Les Misérables (2012)

Let me start by professing my cultural ignorance when it comes to musicals.  My top three musicals are South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas.  My least favorite musicals are Seven Brides For Seven Brothers, Chicago and Rent.  Suffice to say, if you are a fan of movie musicals, then my opinion may mean nothing to you.  I normally wouldn't go out of my way to watch this movie, but Les Mis is apparently the most successful musical of all time and I knew nothing about it.  Musicals may not be my cup of tea, but that sort of gap in my knowledge is inexcusable.  And who knows?  Maybe I'll be one of the millions who love Les Misérables.

Les Misérables is the first musical adaptation of Victor Hugo's novel to reach the big screen, although there have been a few dramatic big screen adaptations already.  In other words, if you don't know the story by now, SPOILER ALERT.  The story begins in 19th century France with Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman), a convict whose crime was stealing bread for a starving child.  After serving a mere nineteen years for his crime, Valjean is paroled by Javert (Russell Crowe), the French equivalent of Boss Godfrey.  Valjean quickly realizes that there are not many opportunities out there for someone who's spent more of his adult life in prison than free, so he chooses to skip bail and start a new life with a new name.  Years later, Valjean is living under an assumed name and is living the good life; he is a factory owner and the mayor of a town.

I wonder if he ran on a "tough on crime" platform?

In his factory, one of his workers, Fantine (Anne Hathaway), is fired.  Why?  As far as I can tell, it is because A) she won't sleep with the foreman and B) she has a child, to whom she sends a sizable chunk of her paycheck.  Neither reason would pass muster nowadays, so I'm not exactly sure why being a parent mattered.  Whatever the reason, Fantine is fired and quickly starts selling parts of her body for cash; her hair and teeth are the first to go, but it isn't long before she is a bald, toothless prostitute.

Why so glum?  Now you don't have to brush your hair or teeth!

The next thing you know, Fantine is dying.  Jean "I'm totally not Jean Valjean" Valjean and Javert discover her, and Valjean takes her to the hospital and promises to take care of her daughter Cosette if worse comes to worse.  In a movie called "The Miserable," I wonder how likely that outcome is?  Simultaneously, Valjean learns that someone (specifically, not Hugh Jackman) has been arrested and is sentenced to die for being Jean Valjean.  Because he's a master of planning ahead, Valjean reveals himself to the court and basically says "Yeah, yeah, I'll serve my sentence," and then tells the dying Fantine that he'll be the father to her child.  Those two don't go hand in hand, so when Javert shows up to arrest him, Valjean fights and escapes, finds the child, and takes her with him to live a new life under yet another identity.

You know a kid's got a tough life when this guy is the less creepy option

We then jump forward in time again, until Cosette (Amanda Seyfried) is an eligible young lady.  Unfortunately, she falls in love with a French radical in the 1830s.  While her love seems doomed, Javert is seen sniffing around their neighborhood for Valjean once more.  Toss in some an unrequited love, a dirty kid, and some comic relief, and this decades-long plot is ready to come to a head.  And if you want to know the effect of open sewage on gunshot wounds, this movie might not be the most scientifically accurate.

Little known fact: Valjean dips everyone he carries in open sewage.  It's a fetish.

Here's a factoid that everyone who talks about this production of Les Misérables cannot help mentioning: the cast sang each take live, with only piano accompaniment.  Most musicals record their soundtrack several weeks ahead of time and later mime their performances for the movie cameras.  In other words, the actors of Les Mis had a better opportunity for onscreen chemistry because they had the freedom to change things up from take to take.  Did they make the most of it?  Well, I have to admit that the emoting in this film is pretty good.  Hugh Jackman did a reasonably fine job in the acting department; his character goes through the most changes and Jackman doesn't ever seem silly in the process.  Russell Crowe played "stern" capably, although I would argue that this is one of his more wooden performances, overall.

Russell Crowe: making movies, making songs and fightin' around the world

Anne Hathaway was a scene-stealer with limited screen time, even though I really didn't like her character at all.  Who sells their teeth before their flesh, anyway?  And why does anyone want to buy her teeth?  Sure, Hathaway seems to have roughly five rows in her mouth, but that's just weird.  I'm not a huge Amanda Seyfried fan, but she played her (to be fair, totally bland) role well.  I don't know what it is about Eddie Redmayne, but his face genuinely bothers me in this movie; I think it has something to do with his awful brushed-forward/There's-Something-About-Mary-gel-scene haircut.  He's okay as a youngster rebelling and falling in love.  The more I see of Sacha Baron Cohen, the less impressed I am by him.  He's not bad or annoying in this movie, but he doesn't seem to have the ability to play anything resembling human.  I liked Helena Bonham Carter well enough, though, and the two paired up decently well.  I was impressed by Samantha Barks, even though her part was fairly small. 

...and, apparently, underclothed

But Les Misérables is a musical!  What about the singing?  I would have to say that the best singers in the cast were the supporting women.  Hathaway and Barks were pretty impressive, and Seyfried was pretty good except for too much vibrato in her falsetto.  I didn't care for Hugh Jackman's songs.  He's a bit too "musical theater" for my tastes.  And yes, I know that this film is probably the best place for someone with a musical theater background, but that doesn't change how much I liked him.  I was surprised to hear how strong Crowe's voice was, until I remembered he had a finger-quotes rock band.  Bonham-Carter and Baron Cohen were comedy relief, so their voices were intentionally at odds with everything around them; I wasn't a big fan, but they served their purpose. 

Their purpose: to look like a Christmas hangover

Tom Hooper chose Les Mis as his directorial follow up to The King's Speech.  He could have gone for another British period piece, but he chose to bring a musical that is entirely singing to the big screen instead.  This is only the second film of his I've seen, but I'm going to go ahead and say that Hooper is a pretty damned good director.  The choice to not pre-record the vocals was interesting, and I think he got some of the best acting-while-singing I've ever seen.  The camerawork was very good and the set designs were impressive.  Since the film jumps around so much in time, there were a lot of different sets, and each one looked great.

I'm pretty sure this building was only in about 15 seconds of film

From what I can tell, Hooper did an admirable job bringing this huge musical to the big screen.  Too bad I didn't like it.  Despite that, the final scene still hit me like a ton of bricks, out of absolutely nowhere, which just goes to show how effective Hooper is at working his script.

So, I didn't like Les Misérables.  The directing was good, the acting was fine, and I liked some of the singing (just not particularly the two male leads).  What's my problem, then?  If I had to narrow it down to one reason, it would have to be the songs.  I didn't really like any of them.  There were a few snippets, here and there, that I enjoyed --- Anne Hathaway's signature song, and the beginning to the love song of Cosette and Marius --- but they served as segues to larger medleys that I didn't care for.  My overwhelming impression of the songs in this musical was "Shouldn't these rhyme more?"  My imagination tried to help fix the songs, too, by pairing any line ending with "gone" or "on" with "like Jean Valjean."  Not surprisingly, it didn't help.  It also doesn't help that the entire film is sung, so I could not truly enjoy the downtime between medleys, either.

I also had some major problems with the story.  Ignoring Javert's insatiable bloodlust for Valjean --- which seems more than a little out of proportion, especially given all the other criminals Javert had met that were worse --- still leaves me with points that I just couldn't comprehend.  Fantine's storyline confused the hell out of me.  I think she was fired from her crap job because she had a child; this somehow turns into accusations of prostitution, which still should be nobody's business but hers and the police; once she's out on the street, Fantine almost immediately contracts a fatal dose of prostitution.  I think that's the gist of her story, but the logic behind it escapes me.  Almost as bad was the little revolutionary street rat, Aladdin Gavroche.  That little shit caused more trouble than anyone else in the movie (with the possible exception of that loaf of bread Valjean stole before the first scene).  This film would have 70% fewer casualties if he hadn't essentially shamed the rebels into fighting to the death.  I also don't understand Javert's motivation when he pinned a medal on Gavroche's corpse; for someone who viewed crime as black and white, that felt very uncharacteristic.

For the record, cute girls in newsboy clothes are hot, while revolutionary boys with girl hair are little shits

Obviously, I am only speaking for myself.  Countless people have seen and heard this musical and love it to shreds; if there is going to be a movie that satisfies that audience, this is it.  I can appreciate the work that went into this production, and the craftsmanship of Tom Hooper and the cast is undeniable.  It just didn't tickle my fancy.  If you're into musicals, you'll probably dig this one.  If not, then this won't change your mind.  If you're somewhere in-between, I think the artistry will win you over.  But for me, it falls into the realm of barely worth watching.

Why didn't I like the songs?  I think I just have a problem with people singing different songs at each other:

The Dark Knight Rises

Audiences for Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight trilogy fall into roughly three camps.  There are the devoted/rabid fans, the casual fan that likes blockbusters that aren't always vapid, and those that just can't get past Christian Bale's "Batman Voice."  After seeing The Dark Knight Rises, I'm reasonably sure that this film won't be changing anyone's mind about the series as a whole.  But what about this last chapter, specifically?


The Dark Knight Rises picks up eight years after the end of The Dark Knight.  Does that mean you need to watch The Dark Knight to understand what's going on here?  Well, it doesn't hurt and it gives you an excuse to see Heath Ledger's Joker again, but it's not necessary; it does help the beginning make more sense, though.  Gotham City, once a hellhole of crime and corruption, has now become a safe city, thanks to legislation passed after TDK.  Batman, once a staple in the city's grimy streets, has not been seen since and remains a suspect in a murder he did not commit.  But, other than that, things are just fine.  Instead of spending his evenings with thugs trying to kill him, Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) has opted to go the Howard Hughes route, avoiding human contact in his mansion and feeling sorry for himself.

He'd put the suit on, but he doesn't want to devalue it by removing the original packaging

Meanwhile, a series of seemingly unconnected crimes and shady business activities prove to be the work of a single mastermind: Bane (Tom Hardy).  Bane claims to be the heir of Ra's Al Ghul (Liam Neeson) and the leader of the League of Shadows.  What does that mean to folks that haven't seen or don't remember Batman Begins?  Bane wants to destroy Gotham City and the dude has, like, ninjas on his side.  Or random street thugs.  Whatever.  Oh, and this time, it's personal --- Batman (more or less) killed Ra's, so Bane is gunning for the Bat.  But first, Bane wants Batman to suffer.  All the advantages Batman has had in the past --- his brains, his brawn, his skill, and his money --- are negated as Bane either removes them from the equation or one-ups Bats.  AND Bane holds the entire city hostage with a fusion bomb.

AND Bane insists on leading when they dance

Things look pretty bleak.  Then again, you have to fall before you can rise, I guess.

The recognizable cast in The Dark Knight Rises swells from past entries, but I generally liked the focus on the core plot and not the characters.  Once again, Christian Bale is Batman/Bruce Wayne.  I think Bale did another great job embodying the odd personality of Bruce Wayne; he conveys the mix of privilege and riches with determination and psychosis quite well.  I've never been crazy about his "Batman Voice," but I generally like his portrayal of the Bat.  Anne Hathaway has a sizable supporting role as Selina Kyle (NOT Catwoman) and she was far better than I had expected.  It's not that I doubted Hathaway's acting skills, but I didn't buy into her costume in the promotional footage.

As it turns out, I actually didn't mind the costume at all, in the context of the film, and I liked the quasi-femme fatale qualities of her character.  However, Batman is the greatest superhero because he has the greatest villains, and TDKR had a lot to live up to after Ledger's Oscar-winning performance in the last film.  I wouldn't say that Tom Hardy's Bane steps entirely out of that shadow, but he was pretty damn awesome.  The character design was very cool and Hardy managed to be both physically intimidating and a believable mastermind.  You can argue that Bane sounded like someone doing a Sean Connery impression through a broken vocoder --- and you would be correct --- but I enjoyed the dialogue I understood (roughly 60%) enough to not mind the bits I missed, kind of like my attitude toward Brad Pitt's accent in Snatch.

Sadly, Bane never says "Man talk, baby" in his Robo-Connery voice

Joseph Gordon-Levitt shows up to play a beat cop that sees value in the moral space between Batman and Commissioner Gordon.  Marion Cotillard also has a small, key part.  While neither of these actors stole their scenes, their parts were clearly there to fill thematic purposes, and they played them well.  As for how necessary their characters were...well, if you're going to include them and not make the story as a whole suffer, then this is the way to do it.  Gary Oldman returns as Commissioner Gordon and I thought this was his best work with the character yet.  Morgan Freeman also returned, although in a greatly diminished capacity.  Similarly, Michael Caine once again played Bruce Wayne's faithful butler, Alfred, but he isn't in very much of the film at all.  There are a few other noteworthy bit parts --- Matthew Modine is a useless cop, Liam Neeson briefly reprises Ra's Al Ghul, the guy whose face was digitally removed in The Social Network (Josh Pence) played a young Ra's, and Cillian Murphy returns because...well, just because.

However, the acting in a superhero movie is really secondary to the spectacle.  As much as I enjoyed Tom Hardy here --- and I did, quite a lot --- this is a Big Movie, made for IMAX, and it shows.  The largely practical effects in The Dark Knight Rises were excellent.  The opening scene with the plane being destroyed and the shots of the bridges being blown were my personal favorite visual moments (aside from Bane tossing aside the broken Batman mask), and that ignores the vastly improved Bat-cycle and Bat-plane scenes.

Where do you park that thing?

The action scenes are solid and large in scope, but this series has never been about intricate fight scenes as much as it has been about Batman being a scary bastard.  But with Bane outdoing Batman, does that really work this time?

"I'm not internationally know, but I'm known to rock the microphone"

Director Christopher Nolan did a great job bringing this trilogy to a close.  It ties in with Batman Begins and The Dark Knight, but has an identity of its own.  The camerawork is good, the big scenes feel huuuge, and this epic sequel managed to hold onto that epic feeling throughout.  As a comic nerd, I appreciated the choices made with a lot of the characters and I was impressed with how many classic Batman ideas were included in this story without it feeling disjointed or suffering from the (lower case "b") bane of superhero sequels: too many villains.  More than anything else, Nolan crafted a tale that is as realistic as a Batman movie can be and actually concludes logical character arcs.  Is this as good as the excellent (but flawed) The Dark Knight?  Maybe not quite, but it's damn close.

Here's the biggest problem with the film, though: there isn't a lot of Batman in this Batman movie.  This is a great story about Bruce Wayne, the man inside the suit, but it is not the quintessential Batman movie.  That's fine by me and was obviously a conscious choice by the filmmakers, but it feels like a bit of a missed opportunity.  Yes, Bruce Wayne overcomes personal and physical obstacles in his quest for victory, but there are not nearly as many moments here where the Batman seems truly bad-ass.  You can also make a valid argument that time was an enemy in this film, specifically its liberal use.  The time gap between TDK and TDKR is fine, for the most part, but it raises some interesting questions.  For starters, just how low was Alfred willing to see Wayne sink before telling him about that letter?  The best detective in the city, Gordon, never tried to identify Batman?  Even a rookie could (and did) figure that out --- just look for the guy who can afford all those wonderful toys.

"This Batmobile piece reads 'Property of Wayne Enterprises.'  Hmm..."

And the convenience of the fusion bomb's countdown nearly matching Wayne's recovery period was a bit much.  And how did a penniless Bruce Wayne get from Hell's Toilet, Middleeasternistan, to the US, much less inside the isolated Gotham?  And if removing his mask puts Bane in unbearable agony, how does he manage to maintain such a perfectly smooth shaved head?

A: he has a mohawk ponytail underneath the center strap

So, no, it's not perfect.  Hell, it's not even that fun to watch; it is 2:44 of gritty angst.  It is, however, a fantastic end to a trilogy.   It could have been better if we saw Batman outsmart Bane instead of just punching him in the face, but the scope was so epic that I didn't mind the second Death Star that Batman solved his problems by punching harder.  I will go so far as to say that The Dark Knight Rises is the single best movie to date that features Batman.  I may like The Dark Knight a little better, but the flaws are fewer and less important in this film.  This is also one of the few trilogy endings that actually delivered; I would put this above Return of the Jedi, but below Return of the King and Slap Shot 3: The Junior League. 

To put it another way, The Dark Knight Rises might not have a lot of Batman in it, but it gets to the core of what makes Batman great; Batman is the single greatest superhero for many reasons, but his legacy, influence, and punk rock DIY attitude toward justice shine through here.  In the hands of just about any other filmmakers, the last few scenes of this movie might have come across as a cheap teaser for the next sequel.  Instead, Nolan & Co. closed the Bruce Wayne chapter appropriately, even if the story still goes on.  This unexpectedly became less about Bruce Wayne as Batman and more about Batman as an abstract idea.  I wasn't expecting that, and I found that approach very satisfying from a film and comic nerd perspective.

And if you really just can't get past Bale's "Batman Voice," enjoy this clip from Attack of the Show.  I think it captures the ridiculousness of The Voice rather well.

Alice In Wonderland (2010)

Tim Burton is one of my favorite directors, because he makes odd little films that somehow manage to become big hits.  I tend to prefer his more intimate work (Edward Scissorhands, Ed Wood, Big Fish) over his obvious blockbusters (Batman, Planet of the Apes), but I always find his work interesting.  When you add my favorite actor and Burton collaborator, Johnny Depp, to the mix, you definitely have my attention.  Add those two oddballs to the fictional world of Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland, and you have a guaranteed formula for weirdness.

It should be pointed out that, despite the title, this actually isn't an adaptation or re-imagining of the source material, or even of the Disney animated classic.  Instead, it serves as a sequel of sorts.  This time around, Alice (Mia Wasikowska) is a teenager instead of a child.  Like all Wonderland stories, this one begins in the real world.  Alice is attending a party when she fields an unexpected (and unwanted) proposal for marriage; she is at the marrying age for Victorian England, and the match is sensible and proper.  And, in typical Tim Burton style, "sensible and proper" seem positively horrid, with madness being a preferable alternative.  Almost as if she is signaling for a rodeo clown to distract the bull away from her, Alice notices a white rabbit wearing a waistcoat.  Since her options are follow the rabbit or definitively choose a life path, the nineteen year-old Alice opts to follow the rabbit.  From here, things begin to get a little deja vu; Alice visits all the same places and meets all the same characters that she did in the original stories --- she eats stuff and grows/shrinks, she chases the White Rabbit (voiced by Michael Sheen), she goes to the Mad Hatter's (Johnny Depp) tea party, and gets confused by the Cheshire Cat (voiced by Stephen Fry) and the Caterpillar (voiced by Alan Rickman).  Alice seems to be going through these experiences for the first time, but something seems...different about everything.  The only clue we have that this is a new tale is the fact that all the the inhabitants of Underland (not Wonderland) remember an Alice from years ago.  It has even been prophesied that Alice will be the one to kill the Red Queen's (Helena Bonham Carter) fearsome dragon, the Jabberwocky (voiced by Christopher Lee).  Alice is supposed to kill a creature of Wonderland?  Well, that's different.  And, as this film insists, this really isn't Wonderland, but Underland.  What's the difference?  While both are filled with imaginative landscapes and characters, Underland is the nightmarish twin to the world of Wonderland; apparently, things were once shiny and happy, when the White Queen (Anne Hathaway) ruled, but things have gotten darker and more serious under the Red Queen's reign.  But is this Alice the Alice of the prophesy?  Or is this all something else, something darker?

Not too long ago, I read Lewis Carroll's works for the first time.  Frankly, I was underwhelmed.  I will admit to an unusual joy of language present in these stories, and some pretty interesting imagery, but I wasn't impressed on the whole.  In all honesty, I think that these stories are excellent launching points for adventures, but I am happy to see that most adaptations to the stories aren't slavishly devoted to the source material.  Obviously, then, I have no problem with Burton's Underland.  I do have a problem with the title, though.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I think that film titles are important indicators of the film's content; if I pop in a DVD titled Bambi, it had better be an animated deer story, and not a live-action bestiality flick.  Titling this Alice in Wonderland seems disingenuous to me, because the films goes to great lengths to differentiate itself from previous movie incarnations and the source material.  Alice in Underland would have been more appropriate, I think, and still drawn the connection to Wonderland.

The first thing that struck me about this film was its appearance.  Visually, this is a fantastic piece of moviemaking.  The environment, even though it is almost a post-apocalyptic version of Wonderland, is still full of color and detail.  The character designs were astounding, so different from the classic versions of the characters, and yet they all had something iconic that made them seem somehow familiar.  The use of CGI in the film was some of the best I have seen utilized in any motion picture.  Obviously, the environment was largely CGI, but most of the characters had something altered in post-production, some in subtle ways; Crispin Glover, who plays the Red Knave, had everything except his head replaced by CGI.  Tim Burton has always been a visual filmmaker, but this was really a step above anything else I've seen of his.

This film was chock full of recognizable actors, each of whom did a good job.  Many of them stuck to the classic interpretation of their characters, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.  Matt Lucas (Tweedledee and Tweedledum), Michael Sheen, Stephen Fry, and Alan Rickman were the principal actors who followed that practice.  There were several bit parts where I recognized the actor, but not the character.  Timothy Spall played a bloodhound, Michael Gough voiced a dodo bird, Crispin Glover was awkward as ever as the Knave, and Imelda Staunton was one of the talking flowers --- none of these were huge roles, but I found it interesting that such small parts were played by actors I have seen in so many other films.

Now let's talk about the departures from the norm.  For starters, Paul Whitehouse's March Hare had a dangerous edge to him that bordered on sociopathic.  While Christopher Lee's lines as the Jabberwocky fell in line with Carroll's poem, I'm not so sure about the use of this character as a fearsome enemy.  Anne Hathaway was okay as the White Queen, showing a few hints at bizarre character traits, but I don't think she had enough screen time to develop her character much.  Helena Bonham Carter had more screen time, but most of it was spent emphasizing how odd her character was and was, I think, supposed to generate more laughs than I gave it.  I felt that Mia Wasikowska did a pretty good job as Alice, making her one of the stronger heroines I've seen in a children's movie; I'm not entirely convinced that her "roll with the weirdness" attitude was the right one for a character entering Underland, but it was a choice and she stuck to it.  And then there's Johnny Depp.  The Mad Hatter isn't a character that is usually given depth, but here he has a back story and plays a critical role in the film.  To do that, Burton and Depp had to change the character significantly, and not just cosmetically (although his CGI/makeup was some of the most interesting in the film); this Hatter seems to have almost a split personality, with the harmless goofball character that is well known and a Scottish (I think) warrior character that is brand new.  I think Depp captured the mercurial nature of his character well, but his character is one of the aspects of this film that I found disappointing.

I have heard that Alice in Wonderland is not so much a children's story, so much as it is an acid trip told in nonsense rhymes.  Yes, this is a story that is typically aimed at children, and yes, this story does has some surreal nightmare qualities to it.  I think that balance lends itself nicely to Tim Burton's guiding hand; much of his work appears dark, but has a childlike quality at its core.  On the surface, this is a can't-miss concept.  In practice, though, all the visual effects in the world can't disguise the fact that the story in Alice in Wonderland is lacking.  There isn't a strong narrative, which shouldn't be a problem, since this is a story that should be about the wonders of this Underland.  But the whole movie builds toward a final battle that fails to do anything imaginative and ends up as a surprisingly dull action sequence.  Because this movie has that climax and they foreshadow it from the beginning, the rest of the story feels like an unstructured jumble that rambles on without much purpose.  Personally, I would have preferred a story where there was more rambling and a less typical climax.

With that story structure in place, though, Alice must be given motivation for trying to thwart the Red Queen's rule.  Since Alice is a stranger, that motivation has to come from the supporting cast, which ends up being the most prominent Underland inhabitant, The Mad Hatter.  I love me some Johnny Depp, and he is occasionally very charming in this role, but the militant edge to his character is left largely unexplained and his shifts into that persona are abrupt and unexplained.  This could have been circumvented if Alice had a personal stake in Underland, but she does not, and remains fairly dispassionate about the bizarre events surrounding her.

This movie just feels like ninety percent of the creative process focused on how the film would look, and maybe ten percent was spent on the story itself.  There are so many pieces of this film that work.  I liked all the voice acting and I didn't see a poor performance in the whole film.  I don't particularly like Depp or Mia Wasikowska's characters, but I think they both played their parts well.  There are all sorts of high concept issues brought up in this film (Colonialism, feminism, etc.), but I was happy to see these topics left without any explicit conclusions.  And let's not forget just how gorgeous this movie is.  Just looking at promotional posters for this movie makes me want to watch it again.  No, that's not right...they make me want my own production stills, framed and mounted on my wall.  I really liked a lot about this movie.  I just didn't like...well, the movie part of it.  With such a surprisingly limp emotional core, I was left unsatisfied with the film and extremely disappointed in Johnny Depp and Tim Burton.  The gorgeous peculiarity that is Alice in Wonderland is certainly worth viewing, but the story is inconsequential at best.