The late 1890s. We are in Lewis Carrolls rooms at Oxford complete with piano, chaise longue and massive chandelier (Assemblys, but nevertheless), and beautiful blonde haired muse Alice Liddell is visiting him. The two are to enact Alices Adventures in Wonderland - it later turns out for one 'last time'. Only, hang on, its actually not Oxford but Eastbourne - and Carroll is not Carroll but Charles Dodgson. And wait, Alice is not Alice but Isa Bowman, a Cockney actress in a wig. Gyles Brandreths Wonderland has a great premise: self-reflexive theatre must ensue, in which person plays personae and fact and fiction bleed together. And so it does. Flora Spencer-Longhurst, playing Bowman, switches with ease and conviction between little well-spoken Alice, the voice of various creatures like a couple of Liverpudlian marionettes, and spunky though lovely actress. Michael Maloney is almost exhausting as Carroll, given often only the stereotype of tripping-tongued, booming eccentric to play with until a breakdown late in the play where his gaudiness has wound up to such an extent that it fails. Amidst the hints of a darker, obsessive side to Carroll in his 'liking' of young girls, things become genuinely tender as Bowman comforts him/Dodgson, and we believe her absolutely when she says she loves him.The problem is that the two-handers stellar performances seem to be pushing against the tide of the play. Everything has rather a desperately frenetic feel, perhaps because most of the time the piece cant seem to decide what it is and thus a ton of energy is needed to carry it through. It has sometimes music-hall like, sometimes jazzy singing accompanied by piano; it has the acting out of Alice in Wonderlands story; it aims to have a love storys emotional punch. So, we have something of a variety show: musical meets pantomime meets theatre. By no means do I argue that the genres should always be discrete, but there is awkward inconsistency in Wonderland: the audience dont know whether to clap after the songs; only titters meet the childish Alice story which is often rather tediously ridiculous. Maloney and Spencer-Longhurst are troopers in the face of difficulty; they have an almost explosive energy and clearly support each other to an endearing degree. Especially telling is the moment when Maloney tries to help fix Spencer-Longhursts skirt in media res - the fastening breaks early on, and Spencer-Longhurst frantically tries to fix it throughout whilst still acting competently. Ultimately, however, this A-team of two virtuosos cannot save the play. Wonderland is all about being stuck in the rut of wanting to recreate a magical story and the difficulty of moving on from this magic. The production seems stuck in its own rut - despite performances full of gusto and moments of potency, Wonderland is imprisoned by its writing.
