It was weird. If you grew up in the eighties, you probably remember that specific feeling of flipping through the channels and stumbling upon a version of Wonderland that looked less like a Disney cartoon and more like a high-budget community theater production on heavy hallucinogens. I'm talking about the Alice in Wonderland 1985 film, the two-part musical extravaganza produced by Irwin Allen.
Honestly, it shouldn't have worked. Irwin Allen was the "Master of Disaster," the guy behind The Towering Inferno and The Poseidon Adventure. Why was he making a whimsical musical for CBS? But he did. And he brought every single celebrity in Hollywood with him.
The casting is just bonkers. You’ve got Sammy Davis Jr. as a tap-dancing Caterpillar. There's Carol Channing as a White Queen who literally turns into a sheep. Ringo Starr is the Mock Turtle. It feels like a fever dream because, well, it basically is. Natalie Gregory plays Alice with this wide-eyed sincerity that somehow anchors the absolute chaos happening around her.
The Casting Chaos of the Alice in Wonderland 1985 Film
Most people forget how massive this was for TV. This wasn't just a movie; it was a "television event." Back then, you didn't have Netflix. You had the big networks, and when they put something like this on, everyone watched.
Seeing the Alice in Wonderland 1985 film today is like looking at a time capsule of 80s variety show culture. The makeup is heavy. The prosthetics are... questionable. Red Buttons and Anthony Newley as the White Rabbit and the Mad Hatter feel like they stepped right off a Vegas stage. It’s glorious. It’s also kinda terrifying in parts.
Take the Jabberwocky.
If you were a kid in '85, that thing was the stuff of nightmares. It wasn't some sleek CGI dragon. It was a giant, clunky, terrifying puppet that looked like it could actually eat you. When Alice has to face it in the second half—which covers Through the Looking-Glass—the tone shifts. It gets darker. That’s the thing about this version; it respects the inherent weirdness of Lewis Carroll’s writing instead of sanding it down for a "kiddie" audience.
The Music You Can't Get Out of Your Head
Steve Allen wrote the songs. They aren't exactly Disney-level earworms, but they have this catchy, vaudevillian quality. "Laugh" by the Duchess (played by Martha Raye) is loud and aggressive. "Emotions" is this strange, sentimental ballad.
The songs serve a purpose, though. They break up the episodic nature of the book. Carroll’s narrative is famously just a series of encounters with eccentric weirdos, and the music gives those encounters a bit of structure. You’ve got Shelley Winters as the Bird in the Tree—it’s just bizarre to see these icons in such ridiculous costumes.
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Why the 1985 Version Hits Different Than Disney
Most people compare every Alice to the 1951 Disney version. That's fair. Disney is the gold standard for many. But the Alice in Wonderland 1985 film does something Disney didn't: it captures the claustrophobia of the book.
The sets are clearly soundstages. They feel cramped. The colors are garish. This creates a sense of being trapped in a dream that's slowly turning into a nightmare. In the Disney version, Wonderland feels like a vast, magical world. In the 1985 film, it feels like a series of rooms you can't quite escape.
Natalie Gregory was only nine or ten years old during filming. She’s one of the few Alices who actually feels like a child. Often, Alice is played by teenagers or young adults, which changes the dynamic. When Gregory’s Alice cries because she’s frustrated or scared, it feels real. It makes the bizarre behavior of the adults—the Queen of Hearts (Anne Jillian) screaming "Off with her head!"—feel genuinely threatening.
A Celebrity Roll Call
Let's just list some of these names because it's genuinely insane:
- Sid Caesar as the Gryphon.
- Imogene Coca as the Cook.
- Telly Savalas as the Cheshire Cat (yes, Kojak is a cat).
- Roddy McDowall as the March Hare.
- Arte Johnson as the Door.
- John Meredyth Lucas directed, but you can feel Irwin Allen’s fingerprints on the scale of it.
It was a bridge between the old Hollywood studio system stars and the TV stars of the 80s. You had legends like Karl Malden and newcomers alike. It was a "who's who" that we just don't see anymore in network TV specials.
Production Design: Cardboard and Glitter
Technically, the Alice in Wonderland 1985 film hasn't aged perfectly. The chroma key (green screen) effects are very obvious. You can see the edges of the actors against the backgrounds.
But there’s a charm to it.
The physical props and costumes are incredibly detailed. The Tweedledee and Tweedledum costumes (played by Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gormé) are massive, round suits that look impossible to move in. There’s a tactile nature to the production. It feels like a playground.
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The script, written by Paul Zindel, stays surprisingly close to the source material. Zindel was a Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright, and he kept the wordplay that makes Carroll’s work so distinct. He didn't dumb it down. He let the Jabberwocky poem be recited in its full, nonsensical glory.
The Legacy of the Jabberwocky
The second night of the broadcast focused on Through the Looking-Glass. This is where the Alice in Wonderland 1985 film really left its mark on a generation's psyche.
The Jabberwocky was a man in a suit, but the design was inspired by the original John Tenniel illustrations. It had these glowing eyes and a long, reptilian neck. In an era before Jurassic Park, this was peak creature effects for television.
It represented Alice's fear of growing up. Or her fear of the unknown. Whatever it was, it worked. The "monster" wasn't just a physical threat; it was a psychological one. The way the film builds up to that encounter—the warnings from the other characters, the darkening sky—is actually great filmmaking.
Why It Disappeared (And Then Came Back)
For years, this version was hard to find. It lived on grainy VHS tapes recorded from the TV. Fans of the film would trade these tapes like illicit goods. It eventually got a DVD release, and now you can find clips on YouTube, but for a long time, it was a "did I dream that?" memory for Gen X and older Millennials.
It didn't have the staying power of the Disney version because it's so rooted in its time. It looks like 1985. It sounds like 1985. But that’s also why people love it. It’s a specific vibe that can’t be replicated.
Watching It Today: What to Expect
If you’re going to watch the Alice in Wonderland 1985 film now, you have to go in with the right mindset.
Don't expect Marvel-level effects. Expect a stage play with a massive budget and a lot of heart. It’s long—over three hours if you watch both parts together. It’s a commitment.
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But it’s worth it for the performances alone. Seeing Carol Channing flap her arms and squawk like a bird is a rite of passage for any film buff. Seeing Ringo Starr sing about turtle soup is just... it's a lot.
The film also serves as a reminder of a time when networks were willing to take big, weird risks. They spent millions of dollars on a surrealist musical. That just doesn't happen today.
Critical Reception vs. Fan Love
Critics at the time were mixed. Some thought it was too long. Others thought the "Disaster Movie" producer was an odd fit for fantasy. But kids didn't care about the reviews.
The film became a cult classic. It resonates with people who felt like outsiders. Alice is constantly being told she’s wrong, that she doesn't know the rules, and that she's "just a little girl." Watching her navigate that nonsense and come out the other side—literally walking through the mirror to her own home—is a powerful narrative.
Actionable Takeaways for Alice Fans
If you're looking to dive back into this version or experience it for the first time, here is how to get the most out of the experience:
- Watch the two-part version: Some edits cut out large chunks of the songs or the Jabberwocky sequence. Look for the full 187-minute runtime to get the actual experience Irwin Allen intended.
- Compare the illustrations: Keep a copy of the original John Tenniel illustrations nearby. You’ll be shocked at how many of the costumes in the Alice in Wonderland 1985 film are direct recreations of those 19th-century drawings.
- Check out the soundtrack: While it's not on Spotify in a traditional sense, many of the Steve Allen tracks are archived online. They are fascinating examples of mid-80s musical theater writing.
- Look for the cameos: Half the fun is pointing at the screen and saying, "Wait, is that John Glover?" (Yes, it is. He’s the Doorward.) Use an IMDb breakdown while watching to catch the dozens of blink-and-you-miss-it celebrity appearances.
The 1985 film remains a singular piece of media. It’s weird, it’s colorful, it’s scary, and it’s unapologetically itself. Whether you're a Lewis Carroll purist or just someone who loves 80s kitsch, it's a journey down the rabbit hole that you won't forget anytime soon. It captures that thin line between a dream and a nightmare better than almost any other adaptation.
To truly appreciate the Alice in Wonderland 1985 film, you have to embrace the nonsense. Stop trying to make sense of the plot. Stop worrying about the green screen. Just sit back and let the parade of 80s icons wash over you. It's a trip worth taking.
To continue your journey through Wonderland's cinematic history, look for the Emmy-nominated costume designs by Paul Zastupnevich. His work on this film is often cited by costume historians for its faithful yet practical adaptation of the original book sketches into wearable, three-dimensional art. Seeing how he managed to make a human look like a walrus without using modern CGI is a lesson in practical effects that every aspiring filmmaker should study.