This puppet ‘Alice’ for the over-fives is a trippy treat. Like the swinging decade, it begins with flower power. Wooden Alice idles on a green silk riverbank then dozes off among the daisies. Flower patterns whirl, then she is swept away by the woozy, musical world of Wonderland. In the most psychedelic children’s entertainment since ‘The Magic Roundabout’, Alice drinks jazzy green liquor then loses herself in a flickering valley of the shadows, where she can’t keep a grip on her burgeoning silhouette. On the way back, she meets a cat who can’t stop grinning, then a hatter and a pink-eyed hare who’ve clearly been overdoing it on the wacky woodland tea (it’s poured by a floating teapot with legs, into cups that bloom from the daisies).
Peter O’Rourke, Tim Kane and Ben Glasstone’s version of Lewis Carroll’s story offers plenty fun for the kids, as well as some ideas to blow their tiny minds. Glasstone’s zany songs are harmonised with folksy readiness by the four puppeteers. And the Cheshire Cat, which purrs like a ‘Corrie’ landlady while hymning the joys of being barking mad, is a triumph of carved wooden cheek. There’s also a dark, artful undercurrent. Alice is growing up and losing her identity. When she suddenly gets too big for the White Rabbit’s house, the puppet ballet of houses with girls’ legs protruding from them owes more to artist Louise Bourgeouis than Lewis Carroll.
Not everything is fluent. Voices wobble; so do the boards which are laboriously inserted into the stage to signify doors, foliage and the Red Queen’s playing cards. A group of Victorian sepia portraits of men and girls make a fine backdrop but are rather wooden when they’re lugged on to play bit-parts. Nevertheless, ‘Alice’ is another little wonder from the Little Angel.