★★★

“a visually striking, fantastically acted, fun family show”

Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland is a classic and this adaptation, written by Penny Farrow and produced by Ethan Walker, Nate Bertone and DEM productions, is a stunning family-friendly take with a grown-up edge, though not without flaws.

On a sleepy afternoon, Alice follows a waistcoated white rabbit into Wonderland. She meets many colourful characters (literally and figuratively), and navigates a maze of nonsensical rules until, emboldened by confidence and frustration, Alice finally takes a stand.

Aimed at a younger audience, Farrow’s writing distils the more iconic moments and cuts others (such as the pig baby). This brings out a coming-of-age story of sorts, highlighting Alice’s transition from ingénue to self-possessed young adult, underscored by delaying Alice’s re-enlargement to later in the plot. Perhaps Carroll wouldn’t have approved, as I understand he helped end didacticism in children’s literature; but I find it more satisfying and meaningful. Farrow hasn’t forgotten about the adults either, weaving in a layer of modern parody which I think Carroll would have approved of. Though the first act could have done with more jokes and silliness to match the pacier and funnier second.

Director Bertone and Associate Director Eva Sampson lean into the more magical moments, bringing them to life without special effects. For example, Alice’s shrinking uses expertly timed sound and movement plus enlarging props. Though the stand-out is the puppets, designed by Bertone and Chris Barlow, which bring the real magic. This elevates what is already a visual feast – the second you walk in, you see the stunning Wonderland set. Designer Bertone, Associate Designers Will Fricker and Christian Fleming, and Assistant Set Designer Mauri Smith realise a fantastical space, with playing cards suspended above you as if whizzing about. The stage transforms delightfully with each scene, most impressively into the Queen of Hearts’ garden complete with throne and more in jokes (Queen, you did indeed slay). Not to mention Zoe Burt’s sumptuous costumes, including Alice’s embroidered blue and white dress referencing key plot points. Hair and make-up extend the magic, with a range of contrasting styles from Tabitha Mei-Bo Li. Lighting designer Jack Weir expertly evokes the right mood at the right time, from mysterious to matter of fact to menacing. Evan Jolly’s composition seamlessly complements the action. Ella Wahlström’s sound design perfectly punctuates certain moments too, such as the hedgehogs’ whacks during flamingo croquet and their subsequent plaintive cries.

The cast are fantastic. Charlotte Bradley is completely immersed in her Alice and executes physicality with precision. Katriona Brown and Skye Hallam as Tweedles Dum and Dee are hilarious, nailing the comic timing. Daniel Page’s (drag) Queen of Hearts is brilliant, camping up the character without losing an ounce of malice. Eddie Ahrens’ Cheshire Cat is a movement masterclass, with skilful characterisation and choreography. Clare Brice’s White Rabbit pulls off acrobatics while maintaining a nervous edge. Sean Garratt’s Caterpillar is elusive, but it’s Garratt’s Dormouse who steals my heart with his endearing characterisation and reactions. Honey Gabriel’s Hatter and Matthew Heywood’s Hare bring madness and joy to the party.

A few things are less successful. As well as the first act being slower, the pacing is a little inconsistent, spending a long time on Alice’s shrinking and crying. The narrative climax lacks punch: during the pivotal moment involving a deck of cards, said deck appears… and then sways about, evoking a convenient scene change rather than a threatening moment. With what looks like two downstage microphones and no headsets, the dialogue is harder to make out upstage and sometimes drowned out by music (or children). Given this version is abridged with some rather wordy passages, it impacts the flow and loses you at points.

That said, if you’re looking for a visually striking, fantastically acted, fun family show that children and adults will get something out of, Alice in Wonderland is a treat. Though if you’re not bringing children, it might not be for you.

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 IN WONDERLAND

Marylebone Theatre

★★★

“a visually striking, fantastically acted, fun family show”

ALICE IN WONDERLAND

Marylebone Theatre

Reviewed on 20th July 2025

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Steve Gregson

Previously reviewed at this venue:

ALICE IN WONDERLAND

ALICE IN WONDERLAND

ALICE IN WONDERLAND

ALiCE

Sadler’s Wells Theatre

★★★★

“The thrill is in the spectacle and the sheer acrobatic virtuosity of the dancers”

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:

ALiCE

ALiCE

ALiCE

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