Lewis Carroll

Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking again. "Dinah'll miss me very much to-night, I should think!" (Dinah was the cat.) "I hope they'll remember her saucer of milk at teatime. Dinah, my dear! I wish you were down here with me! There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?"

I've been musing over Carroll's style, so distinctively British, with its delightfully gratuitous hyphenations, light but constant rhythm, and demure wit. The distinctly British imperialist tone and the woodcuts which perennially accompany it harken to Kipling and the wit to Wilde and the æsthetic movement, but where does the light matter-of-factness about extraordinary events originate?

More clear is the impact of Carroll's style. Extending far beyond England, authors like Tove Jannson and Lemony Snicket have re-interpreted the style to great effect. Beyond children's literature, the style has gained popularity in a surrealist cinema, perhaps via Roald Dahl, in shows like Pushing Daisies and films like The Fantastic Mr. Fox and The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, among many, many others.

As the new Alice film approaches, it is curious to examine the full influence of Carroll's witty humor. Does the banter of Ocean's 11 owe a debt to Carroll? Southland Tales? Breakfast at Tiffany's? Garden State? Any fiction my brother has ever written? Probably. The question, then, is what is the appropriate style for Tim Burton's new Alice? While not all of Burton's work could be called Carrollian – he is notably darker – he does have a history of surrealism, as does Johnny Depp, on display in their collaboration on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Burton's detractors are worried, though, about his likeliness of ruining Alice – or at least making it more horrific, in both senses. However, he undeniably has the imagination to make an original Alice, if not the one everyone wants.

So whose Alice would find the desirable balance between tonal fidelity and an homage to the subsequent development of the Carrollian style? Jason Reitman? Too depressing. Brad Bird? Too childish. The Wachowski brothers? Too...something. Soderberg? Too mature. Cameron? Too plotless. Peter Jackson? Too plotful.

Despite being convinced that someone else could do this better, there's something about Alice distinctly suited to Burton. He has the ability to make the story his own, without losing the original wit. While this production will surely be flawed, who could make the ideal Alice? Someone, I'm sure...I just don't know who.