Wheeldon’s Alice is an attractive but disjointed spectacular

Last seen in 2017, Christopher Wheeldon’s take on the classic Lewis Carroll novel returns to the Royal Opera House stage, or rather Royal Ballet and Opera as we must now call it. Premiering in 2011, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is a complex tale to bring to life and is done via a visual assault of colour and creativity. Joby Talbot’s intricate and meandering score takes us down the rabbit hole to a bizarre world of curiouser and curiouser figures. The result is spectacular and Bob Crowley’s designs are unique and memorable. It’s just a little light on dance.

Although disjointed, the overall narrative is clearly drawn. Starting on a light, bright Oxford Lawn, Alice (Francesca Hayward) dances with her friends. This gang are sweet and skittish in pastel shades, overseen by her pedantic and stern mother (Lauren Cuthbertson, the original 2011 Alice, more on her later). In this busy opening scene, Jack, a young gardener (William Bracewell), gives Alice a discarded red rose in a fleeting interaction and it’s not long before we’re down the rabbit hole and into an unhinged new world.

What quickly becomes apparent is the heftiness of the central role in Wheeldon’s work. Alice barely leaves the stage, and must lead the action alone for prolonged periods as she is manoeuvred through door frames, “eat me” and “drink me” packages and must swim in a lake of her own tears. Hayward flies through this endurance test with all the necessary poise and youthfulness expected. Her Alice wears her curiosity lightly and with good humour, but it’s a big stage to fill with little true choreography in sight early on.

What follows is a conveyor belt of chaotic characters which provides much of the company with opportunities to shine. James Hay’s White Rabbit is slick and mischievous. Gary Avis and Kristen McNally delight as the Duchess and machete-wielding Cook respectively, their slapstick and stage presence elevating every scene they appear in. The opening night crowd responded vocally to the return of Steven McRae, agile and energetic, tapping raucously atop a table as the Mad Hatter. First dancing the role in 2011 and numerous times until 2017, he has battled through severe injury for much of the time since, and he charmed with tangible charisma.

Act 2 offers some welcome choreographic meat, with a dreamy waltz section set in floral tones and dancers seen floating down the aisles of the Opera House. Finally too, there is time to focus on Alice and Jack (transformed into the Knave of Hearts). Together they are light and romantic, Bracewell brings such a sincerity to everything he does and his Knave is no different here. Alice flies across the stage with his able support but choreographically it’s not exciting, and quite a perfunctory pas de deux.

The final act sees a relocation to the royal gardens which delivers the most successful and cohesive scenes of the show. The card themed tutus, mechanical steps, jittery gardeners painting over roses display an overall deeper level of attention to detail. The jewel in this particular crown is Lauren Cuthbertson in a commanding debut as the Queen of Hearts. Alice was Cuthbertson’s role back in 2011, where she was taken off all other duties to perfect the intricacies of it. Now, in a satisfying full circle moment, she is a woman on a mission to get her own way.

Unafraid to dominate the stage, her rose adagio (a parody of the Sleeping Beauty classic) commits fully to the Queen’s pomposity and awkward physicality. It’s a role that only works when exaggerated and Cuthbertson mimes and acts to her fullest and then some. The Queen is a critical role and feels pivotal to the overall impact of Wheeldon’s creation.

After a seven year absence, Alice brings some welcome vibrancy to open the new season, and is undoubtedly an accessible production for newcomers to ballet. However, the brevity of many of the scenes means the narrative misses some depth and feels fragmented as it runs towards a happy conclusion for Alice and Jack to tie everything together. It would benefit from deeper focus on fewer scenes and better use of the male lead. Alice is left with a little too much to do, as charming as she is.