gramilano

Neil Nor­man for The Daily Express has no doubt:

I pre­dict that Chris­topher Wheeldon’s tri­umphant pro­duc­tion of Lewis Carroll’s immor­tal clas­sic will become the must-see bal­let for chil­dren and adults alike. As a full-length nar­rat­ive bal­let – the first com­mis­sioned by the Royal Bal­let in six­teen years – it is a cogent and immensely enter­tain­ing work. As a feat of engin­eer­ing design, it is out of this world.

And Debra Craine in The Times agrees:

Alice’s Adven­tures in Won­der­land, with jolly cho­reo­graphy by Chris­topher Wheel­don and stun­ning music by Joby Tal­bot, is a spec­tac­u­lar fam­ily enter­tain­ment brought to life with enorm­ous the­at­rical verve.

Not all are so con­fid­ent. Ismene Brown for The Arts Desk writes:

The first act is a diarrhoeic 70 minutes — even MacMillan’s toughest dra­mas drew stumps at 45 minutes per act.

Zoe Ander­son in The Inde­pend­ent liked the pro­duc­tion elements:

The Royal Ballet’s new Alice’s Adven­ture in Won­der­land is big and glossy, sharp in exe­cu­tion as the Queen of Hearts’ axe. For much of its length, it’s a show more than a bal­let. Chris­topher Wheeldon’s flu­ent cho­reo­graphy some­times has to fight for atten­tion with the wit of designs and sta­ging, helped by Joby Talbot’s exuber­ant score.

But points out the dif­fi­cultly in adapt­ing Lewis Carroll’s classic:

[Wheeldon’s] chosen a tricky sub­ject: this story isn’t obvi­ously dance­able. The self-possessed child heroine falls down a rab­bit hole, meets curi­ous creatures and wakes up. Much of the point is in the lan­guage: puns, riddles, inven­ted words.

Judith Mack­rell in The Guard­ian con­cen­trates on the choreography:

If the bal­let has a flaw it’s an over long first act, in which the com­edy and drama feel too sporadic.

But the second act steps into a dizzy­ing higher gear and over­all this is, by miles, the most suc­cess­ful Alice bal­let I’ve seen. Bob Crowley’s designs have a hal­lu­cin­at­ory ingenu­ity, mix­ing hi-tech pro­jec­tion with pup­petry and masks. And the visual inven­tion is matched by Wheeldon’s choreography.

Styl­ist­ic­ally this is full of sur­prises: a tap dan­cing Mad Hat­ter, a pre­pos­ter­ous Rose Adagio for the Queen of Hearts (with jam tarts) and the genius cast­ing of Simon Rus­sell Beale as the Duch­ess (right), dan­cing and act­ing a comic storm over her Hell’s Kit­chen of a saus­age factory.

But the straight dan­cing is equally excel­lent – ran­ging from rosy, tender, love duets to a thrill­ing neo­clas­sical ensemble for the deck of cards.

And speaks well of Lauren Cuthbertson’s Alice,

Required to range from the hoy­den­ish to the blithe, she rises to it with a per­form­ance that is alert, funny and deli­ciously un-twee.

Neil Nor­man is in full agreement:

The real magic is on the stage, centred around Lauren Cuthbertson’s sub­lime Alice – all little girl flirti­ness to begin with gradu­ally deci­pher­ing the woman who is begin­ning to burst through the child.

Zoe Ander­son praises the rest of the cast,

Actor Simon Rus­sell Beale dances the Duch­ess. It should be glor­i­ous cast­ing, but even he has to push for atten­tion against the whirl of the sta­ging. (He makes more of an impact as a party guest in the first scene, alarm­ing in a bon­net.) Steven McRae’s Mad Hat­ter tap dances vali­antly, but his per­son­al­ity is muted by so much costuming.

Wheel­don has fun with Busby Berke­ley­ish corps dances, and makes eleg­ant duets for Alice and Jack, now trans­formed into the Knave of Hearts. Sergei Polunin’s Jack soars effort­lessly into his steps. Tal­bot lets rip with music for a play­ing card bal­let; the cho­reo­graphy is too polite to keep up. In dance terms, the show is stolen by the Queen of Hearts, the mon­strous dream ver­sion of Alice’s mother. Zenaida Yanowsky stalks through a par­ody of The Sleep­ing Beauty’s Rose Adage, partnered by cava­liers who are ter­ri­fied they’re going to be beheaded. She shim­mies tri­umphantly, seduct­ive and hilarious.

Debra Craine thinks likewise:

Lauren Cuth­bertson in the title role is a nat­ural. Both girl and woman, she is the sweet energy that makes us care from begin­ning to end. Sergei Polunin is a most hand­some Jack and Edward Wat­son a touch­ing White Rabbit.

Rus­sell Beale has the time of his life raging around the stage as the mon­strous Duch­ess, his body flut­ter­ing like a deranged but­ter­fly. But no one is a match for Zenaida Yanowsky’s sen­sa­tional Queen of Hearts, who is little short of demonic.

Ismene Brown who gives a firm thumbs-down acknow­ledges the over­all suc­cess. But asks herslf why.

… Almost the entire audi­ence [was] stand­ing on its feet cheer­ing at the end, while I sat try­ing to work out why. Is it that they can see where all the money’s been spent? Is it a relief that it’s not abstract and that the music isn’t dif­fi­cult and they’re allowed to laugh? Is this the future of privately fun­ded bal­let — every penny solidly vis­ible in known knowns, and none in unknown unknowns?

Judith Mack­rell was one of those on her feet applauding,

This Alice looks set to become a classic.

Pho­to­graphs © Char­lotte MacMillan

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