It made a billion dollars. Seriously. When we look back at Tim Burton’s take on the Underland—not Wonderland, apparently—it’s easy to forget how much of a juggernaut it was. People forget that before the Marvel Cinematic Universe became the only thing anyone talked about, this weird, neon-gothic reimagining was the blueprint for every "live-action remake" Disney has pumped out since. But let’s be real. If you watch the Alice in Wonderland 2010 film today, it feels less like a Lewis Carroll fever dream and more like a high-budget steampunk war movie. It’s strange. It’s gorgeous. It’s deeply polarizing.
Mia Wasikowska was barely twenty when she stepped into those Victorian boots. She wasn't the little girl from the 1951 animation. She was a nineteen-year-old woman escaping a stifling marriage proposal. That’s where the 2010 version shifts the gears. It’s a "legacy sequel" disguised as a remake.
The Underland Identity Crisis
Most people think this is just a retelling. It isn't. Linda Woolverton, who wrote the script, actually positioned this as Alice’s return to a place she visited as a child but forgot. The movie basically treats the original books, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass, as hazy memories.
Critics at the time, like Roger Ebert, pointed out that the whimsical, nonsensical nature of Carroll’s writing was mostly swapped for a standard Hero’s Journey. You know the drill. There's a prophecy. There's a "Frabjous Day." There's a big dragon-like thing called a Jabberwocky that needs its head chopped off. It’s a bit weird to take a book about the absurdity of language and turn it into The Chronicles of Narnia with more eyeliner.
The visual palette is pure Burton. It’s heavy on the CGI. Back in 2010, the "big head" effect on Helena Bonham Carter’s Red Queen was groundbreaking. Now? It looks a little bit like a high-end Snapchat filter, but honestly, it still works because she’s so committed to the role. "Off with their heads!" isn't just a catchphrase; it’s her entire personality. Contrast that with Anne Hathaway’s White Queen, who floats around like she’s on a heavy dose of Victorian sedatives. Hathaway actually described her character as a "punk-rock vegan pacifist," which is the most 2010 sentence ever spoken.
Johnny Depp and the Mad Hatter Problem
We have to talk about the Hatter. Johnny Depp was at the absolute peak of his "I’m wearing five scarves and weird contacts" phase. For some, his Tarrant Hightopp was the heart of the movie. For others, it was the moment the character became too much.
The Mad Hatter in the Alice in Wonderland 2010 film isn't just mad; he’s traumatized. He has a tragic backstory involving the Jabberwocky destroying his village. It’s a choice. It adds stakes, sure, but it also removes the "madness" that made the character iconic. He’s no longer a chaotic element in a nonsensical world; he’s a resistance fighter with mood-ring eyes.
💡 You might also like: Songs by Tyler Childers: What Most People Get Wrong
And then... there’s the Futterwacken.
If you haven't seen the movie in a decade, your brain might have suppressed the memory of the Mad Hatter breakdancing to a techno-remix of orchestral music at the end of the film. It’s perhaps the most controversial scene in Burton’s entire filmography. Even the most die-hard fans usually admit it feels out of place. It’s the ultimate "how do you do, fellow kids" moment in cinema.
Breaking Down the Visuals and the "Burton Tech"
Production designer Robert Stromberg, who had just come off the massive success of Avatar, brought a similar "everything is digital" philosophy to Underland.
- They shot almost entirely on green screen.
- The only "real" sets were bits of the tea party table and the Red Queen’s court.
- Crispin Glover’s Stayne (the Knave of Hearts) was entirely CGI from the neck down to make him seven feet tall.
This reliance on digital environments is why the movie feels so disconnected from reality. It’s hyper-saturated. The mushrooms are too big. The sky is a weird bruised purple. While it won Oscars for Best Art Direction and Best Costume Design (Colleen Atwood is a legend for a reason), the look is what many blame for the "CGI sludge" feel of later Disney remakes.
But look at the costumes. The way Alice’s dress changes size as she grows and shrinks is a brilliant bit of practical-meets-digital design. Atwood didn't just give her one blue dress; she gave her a series of outfits made from the scraps of her original clothes. It’s clever storytelling through fabric.
Why It Grossed a Billion Dollars (And Why It Matters)
Timing is everything in Hollywood. This movie came out in March 2010, right when 3D mania was hitting its fever pitch. Avatar had just primed the pump. Audiences were desperate for anything that promised an "immersive 3D experience."
📖 Related: Questions From Black Card Revoked: The Culture Test That Might Just Get You Roasted
Disney marketed the hell out of it.
They sold the Alice in Wonderland 2010 film as a dark, edgy alternative to their princess brand. It worked. It drew in the Hot Topic crowd, the families, and the curious cinephiles. It proved that there was a massive appetite for live-action "reimaginings" of animated classics. Without the success of this film, we wouldn't have Maleficent, Cinderella, or the 2017 Beauty and the Beast. For better or worse, Tim Burton’s Alice changed the business model of the most powerful studio on Earth.
The Problem With the Prophecy
The "Oraculum" is the scroll that tells the future in the movie. It says Alice will slay the Jabberwocky on the Frabjous Day.
This is where the movie loses the spirit of Lewis Carroll. Carroll’s Alice was a girl who succeeded because she was curious and logical in an illogical world. Burton’s Alice succeeds because she’s a "Chosen One" with a sword. It’s a fundamental shift from internal growth to external combat. It makes the movie feel more like Lord of the Rings Lite.
However, Mia Wasikowska plays it with such a grounded, stoic energy that it almost works. She doesn't scream. She doesn't faint. She’s bored by the Victorian expectations of her life, and she treats a giant monster with the same "let’s get this over with" attitude. It’s a very modern performance in a very loud movie.
Cultural Legacy and Rewatchability
Is it a "good" movie? That’s the wrong question. It’s an important movie.
👉 See also: The Reality of Sex Movies From Africa: Censorship, Nollywood, and the Digital Underground
It marks the transition point where Tim Burton stopped being an indie darling making weird films like Edward Scissorhands and became a corporate hitmaker. It also signaled the start of Johnny Depp's reliance on heavy prosthetics and eccentric voices over subtle acting.
But if you watch it today, away from the 3D hype of 2010, there’s still stuff to love. The voice acting is top-tier. Alan Rickman as Absolem the Caterpillar is perfect casting. His dry, smoky voice is exactly what you want from a judgmental insect. Stephen Fry as the Cheshire Cat brings a certain oily charm that’s genuinely unsettling.
The movie is at its best when it’s small. The tea party scene, despite being over-the-top, has some great character beats. The Red Queen’s court, filled with people wearing fake "flaws" (like big noses or ears) to please their insecure monarch, is a classic bit of social satire that feels very much in line with the original books.
Key Takeaways for Film Fans
If you're revisiting the Alice in Wonderland 2010 film, keep these things in mind:
- Watch the Costumes: Colleen Atwood’s work is the real star. The textures on the Red Queen’s gown are insane.
- Listen to the Score: Danny Elfman’s theme for this movie is one of his best. It’s haunting, whimsical, and grand all at once.
- Contextualize the CGI: Remember that in 2010, this was the bleeding edge. It hasn't all aged well, but the ambition was massive.
- Ignore the "Chosen One" trope: If you try to view it as a direct adaptation of the book, you’ll be disappointed. View it as a Gothic fantasy sequel.
The film's influence is undeniable. It paved the way for a whole decade of cinema. It’s a loud, messy, beautiful, and sometimes frustrating piece of art. It’s basically a theme park ride caught on film.
To truly understand the impact of this movie, compare it to the 2016 sequel, Alice Through the Looking Glass. The sequel tried to double down on the logic and time-travel mechanics, but it lost the Burton-esque spark. It proves that while you can copy the "look" of the 2010 film, you can't easily replicate the weird alchemy that made it a billion-dollar phenomenon.
Next Steps for Enthusiasts:
- Compare the source material: Read the "Jabberwocky" poem from Through the Looking-Glass and see how much of the movie's lore was actually pulled from those few stanzas.
- Track the Burton-Depp collaborations: Watch Sweeney Todd (2007) and then this. Notice how the visual style evolves into the hyper-digital.
- Study the concept art: Look up the work of Michael Kutsche, who did the character designs. His original sketches for the creatures are often more terrifying than what made it onto the screen.