Alice in Wonderland at Marylebone Theatre – review

Alice in Wonderland may be a canonical classic, but it continues to provide endless invitations for reinterpretation. This version, for example, draws attention to Alice’s apparent existential crisis, as she repeatedly wonders “who am I?” when she tumbles down the rabbit hole. Her obsession with her changing height – highlighted here by a series of increasingly large bottles – is particularly noticeable in this context, as she comes to terms with her advancing age.

But this may of course be an overread of a story that is essentially a hallucinogenic fever dream of the kind Lewis Carroll made his trademark (his nonsense poem Jabberwocky is quoted at the beginning of Penny Farrow’s adaptation). It remains strange, almost unknowable, and the ongoing speculation regarding Carroll’s own motivations for writing it undoubtedly contributes to its darkness.

However, director and designer Nate Bertone’s production does a decent job of telling it “straight”, albeit with a sprinkling of contemporary reference points. It’s lavishly staged, the brightly lit magical forest setting catching the eye from the moment you enter the auditorium. The acoustics, it must be said, are less awe-inspiring, leading to several lines simply vanishing into the ether.

There are plenty of inventive touches throughout, such as the oversized teardrops that stream from Charlotte Bradley’s suitably doe-eyed Alice, or when Daniel Page’s Queen of Hearts sings “pink flamingo club” at the start of the croquet match. And there are a selection of fine puppets on show (designed by Bertone and Chris Barlow), which bring minor characters such as the Dormouse (Sean Garratt) and Dodo vividly to life.

The ensemble, who narrate the story in turn, manage a heavy slate of costume and prop business with aplomb, and there are some eye-catching performances from Honey Gabriel as a Caribbean-accented Mad Hatter, Eddie Ahrens’ illuminated Cheshire Cat, and Page’s distinctly Trumpian Queen. Skye Hallam and Katriona Brown make a well-paired Tweedle duo, while Matthew Heywood and Clare Brice bring bouncy energy as the Hare and Rabbit.

Perhaps it’s overly whimsical, a little too reverent to the source, and could certainly lean more heavily into opportunities for reinvention. However, the pantomimic jokes that pepper Farrow’s script (targets include Keir Starmer) are at least a welcome attempt to add some levity, and the musical (Evan Jolly) and design elements contribute to a slick and accomplished telling, which makes for a decent introduction to a much-loved story for young audiences this summer.