ALiCE
Sadler’s Wells Theatre
★★★★
“The thrill is in the spectacle and the sheer acrobatic virtuosity of the dancers”
We first see the eponymous heroine, in Jasmin Vardimon’s dance interpretation of Lewis Carroll’s nineteenth century classic children’s novel, as a chalk animation shifting across the page of a giant book. As it reaches the edge of the page, the real-life version (Liudmila Loglisci) peeps out in wonder and trepidation before taking her first balletic steps onto the stage – or, rather, into the rabbit hole. You can understand her reticence; there is a whirlwind of activity. It appears chaotic and surreal but there is a precision to the ensemble’s movement that is a hallmark of Jasmin Vardimon MBE’s acrobatic and intense choreography.
The pages of the giant book (courtesy of Guy Bar-Amotz’ – along with Vardimon herself – inventive, slightly shabby-chic design) slowly turn, sometimes engulfing Alice, sometimes hurling her into the action. The show is split into six chapters, each representing a sequence from Carroll’s fiction, and each being a formative rite of passage for the malleable young girl. The overriding theme is that of change, particularly focusing on Alice seeking her own identity as she hits adolescence with brute force. It is an ingenious device that superimposes the fantastical elements and characters of the original story onto a very modern tale of coping with today’s socio-political minefield. Barely a word is spoken. Our understanding of the concept relies entirely on the staging, which falls into the category of physical theatre rather than dance for most of the time. It is a visual feast, accompanied by an eclectic choice of soundtrack ranging from Vivaldi to Ryuichi Sakamoto, a touch of Bach, and scratch DJ Kid Koala, among many others.
It is a touch confusing, but then that reflects the bewildering and disconcerting changes our protagonist has to go through, and how it all affects her identity. Multiple pairs of arms reach out from behind doorways, along with shadow puppet hands that paw at the evolving Alice. One of quite a few references to a predatory world, and the unwanted male attention. The message is muddied further: a part of Alice seems to enjoy this while another part is repelled. Uncertain as to which direction to turn, Alice splits into seven copies of herself as the cast dance in unison to Smokie’s much parodied, seventies hit ‘Living Next Door to Alice’.
These welcome moments of light comedy puncture the over-surreal whimsical commentary, and Vardimon works the humour into the piece with ease, so that scenes that depict physical abuse or domestic violence give way to the pleasures that can be derived from turning into an adult. Imagery and metaphor give us the inner workings of Alice’s mind while striking visual projections and scenery create the world she has stumbled into. The Cheshire Cat, a vaping caterpillar, the Mad Hatter, the Queen of Hearts, are all there. Even Tweedledum and Tweedledee make an appearance, wandering from ‘Through the Looking-Glass’ into this wonderland of dance and music.
There is little emotional connection. The thrill is in the spectacle and the sheer acrobatic virtuosity of the dancers. It is often impossible to believe there are only seven in the cast. There are elements of the work of Aurélia Thiérrée, or the acclaimed performance company ‘1927’. However, comparisons do Vardimon an injustice. She is in a world – and a class – of her own, combining theatre and dance in a unique way to tell the story. Not only do we see the ways in which the world she enters changes Alice, but Vardimon also shows the ways in which the world reacts to her metamorphosis. Beautifully dreamlike and unusual, marred slightly by the jarring, yet fleeting, use of literal placards drawing focus on the issues of immigration. The message would be better served among the many others that are subtly woven into the fabric of the piece.
As Alice steps back into her two-dimensional form in the pages of the book, we come full circle. We are not sure whether Alice has escaped Wonderland unchanged or awakened. A twist in the fate of the hookah-smoking (vaping in this scenario) caterpillar gives us a clue. Clues are all we seem to get in Vardimon’s interpretation of Alice in Wonderland. But we have a wonderful time not solving them. Alice couldn’t explain herself “because I am not myself, you see”. This is a show that can be watched, without being explained, simply due to the astonishing choreography performed by masters of their craft.
ALiCE
Sadler’s Wells Theatre
Reviewed on 23rd May 2025
by Jonathan Evans
Photography by Tristram Kenton
Last ten shows reviewed at Sadler’s Wells venues:
BAT OUT OF HELL THE MUSICAL | ★★★★ | May 2025
SPECKY CLARK | ★★★ | May 2025
SNOW WHITE: THE SACRIFICE | ★★★★★ | April 2025
SKATEPARK | ★★★★ | April 2025
MIDNIGHT DANCER | ★★★★ | March 2025
THE DREAM | ★★★★★ | March 2025
DEEPSTARIA | ★★★★ | February 2025
VOLLMOND | ★★★★★ | February 2025
DIMANCHE | ★★★★ | January 2025
SONGS OF THE WAYFARER | ★★★★ | December 2024
