Released in 1985, the film Dreamchild, written by the late Dennis
Potter (The Singing Detective) and directed by Gavin Millar, is a
pseudo realistic portrayal of the ‘real’ Alice in Wonderland.
The journey begins as Alice Liddell Hargreaves (Lewis Carroll's young
friend, to whom he dedicated his masterpiece) at the age of 80, travels
to New York in 1932 to participate in Columbia University's celebration
of the centenary of the birth of Lewis Carroll.
Old Alice (Corale Brown) is a sour, perfectly mannered (though not
entirely polite) Victorian, accompanied by a young orphan named Lucy
(Nicola Cowper) whose innocence and hopes are securely entrusted to
her elderly charge. Upon arrival in the New World, Alice and Lucy
find themselves bombarded by gum-chewing, loudmouth reporters eager
for an exclusive. Alice will have none of their vulgarity, however,
until she meets young Jack Dolan (Peter Gallagher), an unemployed
journalist whose charm and charisma enchant Lucy and lead Alice into
a brief (but profitable) stint in media promotion.
Everyone wants to meet (and use) the young girl of Carroll's delightful
stories, which Alice initially resists, until the lure of ‘easy
money’ proves to powerful. Deep-seated years of guilt and repressed
memories of her childhood begin to surface; at the same time, the
gentle Lucy falls for Depression-weary Jack, whose fraudulent nature
becomes too-readily apparent. As a young child, Alice Liddell (an
exquisite Amelia Shankley), along with sister Lorina and Edith, lives
an idyllic life within the high garden walls of Oxford University.
Alice's mother is more than a little dismayed at the attention mathematician
Charles Dodgson (Ian Holm) - aka Lewis Carroll - has been giving young
Alice as of late.
"He seems to confess a great deal to you, my dear," She
frowns. "Why?"
Alice's answer is simple, direct, and innocent of any possible misunderstanding.
"Because he loves me, of course."
Charles Dodgson is a stammering, shy and pious man, given to a great
love of whimsical storytelling... and photography. Several key scenes
involve young Alice posing for portraits by the lonely don, who worries
that his young friend will too soon forget their happy times together
when she grows up. Though Alice promises otherwise, her mother has
other plans. Old Alice is swept emotionally and surrealistically back
and forth in time, in an attempt to reconcile her happy (if somewhat
confusing) memories of Dodgson, with her mother's attempts to stifle
the author's intense affection for Alice.
In a fantasy sequence, old Alice revisits the hookah smoking Caterpillar,
to whom she confesses:
"She burnt all his letters to me...why would she do that, unless
there was something...wrong...something I can't bear to think about?"
She finds herself admonished by the old Caterpillar, who forces her
to recite:
"You are OLD MRS HARGREAVES!"
The recitation is like a slow-motion dam burst: she realises, perhaps
a little late, that she has wasted too much time, forgetting her childhood
friend (something she promised Dodgson she'd never do) and suffers
guilt over her own self-serving behaviour, ‘using’ the
fame he brought her (out of love) for monetary gain. Old Alice is
haunted by her memories, some of which she is allowed to revisit,
including the macabre Mad Tea Party, which features grotesquely drawn
versions of the March Hare and Mad Hatter (supplied by Jim Henson's
Creature Shop); who punish old Alice for forgetting her childhood
promise to the author - or for simply disregarding her youth (and
his love) all together.
As he leers menacingly, the Mad Hatter hisses: "You stupid,
ugly, old half-wit, you should be dead, dead, DEAD."
Is this Alice punishing herself, or is it Dodgson, returning (as
she at first believes) to exact his revenge?
Coming to terms with her past is the only way for Alice to be free:
in a soul-baring moment, she confesses her story to Jack, who's underlying
compassion (and real love for Lucy) helps to redeem the trio, and
put in words all that Alice wishes to say. At the celebration finale,
Alice gives her speech, which is inter-cut with a mortifying moment
from her past: maturing Alice, flanked by her sisters and their suitors,
is embarrassed by the schoolmaster's pious, childlike dignity, and
makes fun of him as he recites a poem from Alice:
"Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the
dance?"
Dodgson's song is an open invitation to her young heart, which she
immediately scoffs.
Elder sister Lorina, always compassionate, saves the moment by acknowledging
Dodgson's sincerity and recites the closing poem of the story:
"Then she thought how this same little Alice would, in the after
time, be herself a grown woman. And how she would keep, through her
riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood; and how
she would gather around her other little children, and make their
eyes bright and eager with many a wonderful tale, perhaps even with
the tale of Wonderland, of long ago. And how she would feel with all
their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys:
remembering her own child life, and the happy summer days." The
poem is a reminder and a kind of punishment; she has not been honest,
and not recognised what the author had intended for her: a fact she
recognises now, and relates to her audience:
"At the time, I was too young to see the gift whole, to understand
what it was, to acknowledge the love that had given it birth...but
I see it now, at long, long last. Thank you, Mr. Dodgson, thank you."
Her mind flutters back to that embarrassing moment and its resolve:
little Alice, despite the disapproving stare of her mother, rises
and embraces the humbled writer. A paean to innocence and the love
so easily lost with it, Dreamchild is a film every parent and child
should see: the journey of misunderstandings, that can so easily oppress
the imagination and overwhelm the heart, is ultimately the path of
love and redemption.
Review© D.J. Hall.