An Adventure That’s Mad as a Hatter
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

Coming from Chicago’s imaginative Lookingglass Theatre — the home of such stunning productions as Mary Zimmerman’s acclaimed “Metamorphoses”— an adaptation of Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland” and “Through the Looking Glass” might be expected to make full use of the material’s visual possibilities. Unfortunately “Lookingglass Alice,” now playing at the New Victory, is not a satisfying, seamless theatrical experience, but simply a pretty good circus show.
Actually, scenery is kept to a minimum in David Catlin’s production — largely because of a decision to seat a chunk of the audience onstage and have the five actor-acrobats perform in the round. With parents and kids sitting right behind the characters, there’s no chance to fully disappear inside Carroll’s loopy fantasy world.
Pared down to five performers and various props, Mr. Catlin’s show (which he also adapted) may be eye-catching and the clowns may get laughs, but the story quickly starts to feel like window dressing. Ultimately, Alice’s quest to become a queen — and the weird chess moves that advance it — feel irritating as a gnat buzzing in your ear.
Part of the trouble lies in Carroll’s original conception of a story in which a young girl encounters setback after rough setback. Populated with annoying characters who won’t answer Alice’s questions and constantly criticize her, Alice’s “adventures” are really exercises in frustration. Her impatience is palpable, and cabin fever rapidly sets in.
Yet what Carroll understood — and what the kids in the New Victory audience verified at Saturday’s matinee — is that the right kinds of frustrations are uproariously funny to children. When the Dormouse gleefully keeps counting sheep despite orders to stop, or when the bumbling White Knight (Larry DiStasi) gets stuck in a split on the floor, giggles ensue.
These little bursts of laughter — along with some heart-pounding aerial stunts — are what keep the audience relatively engaged through the overlong 90-minute show. The aerial tricks are especially gripping, in part because of their apparent danger. A blindfolded fellow walks on the railing of one of the theater’s upper boxes, feigning a stumble on the ledge. Later Alice (Lauren Hirte), an accomplished acrobat, hangs by her ankles from untied ropes as she swings 20 feet over the stage — a sequence that makes the front rows want to hide under their seats. Without evident nets or spotters, the trick seems almost ghastly — one false move, and it’s ambulance time.
Part of the trouble is that this Alice — no doubt chosen for her acrobatic skills — performs her role too brightly, like the circus star that she might otherwise be. There’s little depth to her acting, and she’s the only actor who’s continuously onstage. Unable to get attached to the main character, the young folks wait eagerly for the next special guest — a way-cool three-man caterpillar, a Red Queen on giant stilts, Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee on a Tarzan rope.
Each of these funny-annoying characters arrives (on a wave of musical underscore) like a jolt of caffeine, only to disappear, temporarily leaving us with the bland Alice and her confusing mission (which involves an ill-explained Lewis Carroll figure). By the end of the show, when Alice and her crew send giant balloons bouncing into the house, the kids are more than ready to stop watching; they seem to forget all about the stage as they pass the balloons back and forth over their heads.
There are enough wonderful theatrical moments in “Lookingglass Alice” to make you wish these beads had been threaded together rather than dropped haphazardly into the show. An opening sequence involving a mirror over a fireplace is a bit of dazzling stagecraft, as Alice sees another character’s reflection in her looking glass. The terrific fairy-tale costumes (by Mara Blumenfeld) include the Red Queen’s yards of gleaming red velvet skirt and delightful green-striped outfits for the three-man caterpillar. The White Knight’s vaudeville-like bicycle routine, complete with neighing horse sounds and a unicycle variation, is the perfect blend of comic sketch and circus act.
Yet the elements don’t cohere, largely because Mr. Catlin’s adaptation bites off more material than any show can chew. The kitchen-sink approach results in having to rush through gems like “The Walrus and the Carpenter” and “Jabberwocky,” while confounding his young audience with an elaborate index of this universe’s rules and exceptions.
Meanwhile, Alice is diving through a rabbit hole that turns out to be a circus performer’s ring, rising 20 feet in the air above the stage without a net. With so much to take in, you may grow as confused and disoriented as Alice herself — but like her, you’ll also find enough curiosities and diversions in “Lookingglass Alice” to keep you moving along the trail.
Through February 25 (New Victory Theater, 209 W. 42nd St. at Broadway, 212-239-6200).