For Fantasy this week, leading up to this weekend’s release of Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland, I look at nine of the most famous, skillful, or notorious movie adaptations of Lewis Carroll’s Alice books.

Watching all nine adaptations in quick succession had two effects on me:

1. I realized that, even though I’m not the biggest fan of the books, it really is a story perfectly suited to film. Most books suffer in translation from paper to screen, but not Alice; since the books themselves are a breezy series of visual metaphors and hidden meanings, there’s almost nothing about it that doesn’t work in film, and it actually allows a filmmaker to use the story as a wholesale metaphor for something else entirely and still maintain the tone of childlike discovery. That doesn’t mean it can’t be disturbing – it absolutely can (I will never, ever watch Neco z Alenky again, ever*) – it just means that the story is more fluid than I would have thought for intentionally plotless nonsense that’s had a hundred years of being a cultural checkpoint going against any sense of freshness, and I enjoyed a lot of these more than I expected to.

2. I was trippin’ balls, dude. I recommend most of these be seen at a maximum rate of two a day, lest you suffer from a glut of wonderment and end up diving for the Euclid just to read about something that makes some sense.

I recommend the 1915 version above all; I’m pretty sure it’s the best one yet made.

However, the best moment in any of them, for my money, is from 1998’s shoestring-budget Alice Through The Looking Glass, in which Kate Beckinsale (back when her face moved) and Ian Holm (as the White Knight) sit together, and the White Knight tells her his tale. The tale is illustrated in silent-movie fashion (Ian Holm as Buster Keaton: SOLD), including fuzzy-audio interludes, and Ian Holm basically gives a five-minute masterclass in dramatic reading.

It’s very quiet, and very weary, and very, very good. If you have a few minutes, it’s highly recommended.

Tim Burton’s Alice goes under my knife this weekend, and the review should appear early next week. After the clips I’ve seen, my feeling right now is: We’ll see about THAT, Burton. I hope he proves me wrong.

* Seriously, this movie has been retroactively added to my list of “Oh, I Don’t Think So” won’t-review movies over at Con or Bust. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to find some other way to make me suffer, though – go bid!

Sorry for the radio silence; there was work and then family and then writing and then I looked here and realized how long it’s been since I posted. (The Sherlock Holmes posts are miiiiles late.)

Tonight, though, writing takes a back seat, and I’m finally sitting down with the director’s cut of Kingdom of Heaven. I’ve put it off for a while because the theatrical version was so horrible I made a Choose Your Own Adventure out of it. However I had heard that the difference was striking, and knowing how much difference it makes for the director’s cut of Blade Runner not to have the voiceover, I thought I might as well see what Ridley could do with more hours in his day. (And he has to have more hours in his day then normal people, since this version looks about four hours long.)

After watching it for two minutes, I can already tell this is going to be amazing, if not for the quality of the film, for Ridley’s little video essay up front promising you how much better this version is going to be than the theatrical version. I laughed, you guys. That is awesome on so many levels. What would have happened if they’d said no? I can picture him going door-to-door with a copy of the movie. “No, it’s organic character development! Just give it a try!”

Full report to come.

This month’s Top Ten at Fantasy is Fantasy’s Top Ten Ham Jobs.

Things to know:

1. That is the bluest pun I have ever worked in my LIFE.

2. This list was so hard to narrow down to just ten, you cannot even imagine. There are three dozen actors gnashing their teeth and ripping scenery to shreds right now because they just missed the list. (These people include David Thewlis in Dragonheart and Ray Liotta in In the Name of the King, both of whom were just stellar, but David Thewlis was too lethargic to chew scenery with the necessary aplomb, and Ray Liotta will come to my house and yell at me if I make him angry, so they both get a pass. THIS TIME.)

So, among the many graduates of Awesome British Actor Camp, there’s a little subculture of actors who are probably perfectly nice people who enjoy things like accounting and pinochle. Unfortunately, they have a particular aura about them that make them look like escapees from a gang of creepers.

If they really were a gang, and nine of them were being chosen to go up to the Bronx to hear Cyrus give his big speech, Cillian Murphy would be the leader. Dude is an awesome actor, but no one is ever surprised when he turns into a total raging revenge murderer an hour into 28 Days Later, is all I’m saying.

Second one chosen would be Hans Matheson.

If you need more evidence than his face, keep reading.

Hans is a very good actor, though without a steady directorial hand his acting can tip into overacting.

On the other hand, most of the time it’s not his fault; there’s only so far you can rise above the material when everyone looks like this. (P.S. I see what you did here, Duncan Idaho!)

Mists of Avalon was the first time I saw him, and even though the whole miniseries was just a mess (Joan Allen, you put that period piece away RIGHT NOW), he was far from the worst thing in it (Samantha Mathis was! We’ll tackle this later), and he managed some good beats almost despite the script. His face when he discovers his parentage is great.

On the other hand, when you get your big break playing Mordred, fighting the creeper vibe is an uphill battle. Forever.

After that he got a bigger break in Les Miserables, playing Marius, who’s sort of intense under the best conditions, and was an absolute stalker when Matheson played him. It’s not his fault, honest! He was just born under a creepy star! He never blinks!

Lest you think I’m out to get him, let me point out what a sad percentage of his movies I own, and allow me to stress again how nice he probably is. He plays the fiddle!

I’m just saying, there’s something about him, even when he’s playing decent characters, like in Bathory:

…no comment.

My favorite film of his is Canone Inverso, a movie which I bought off eBay and had converted as soon as I was able to find it. (I was in college, and had not really discovered the internet yet. I’m still surprised I knew about eBay.)

In it, he plays a violin genius attending Violin Genius School, who has a love/hate relationship with another violin genius, Lee Williams (who, let’s face it, was really weird in The Forsyte Saga: To Let, and creepy as shit in the Wolves of Kromer, and probably also has a slot in the Creepers):

But even he thinks Hans’s thousand-yard stare is a little much. You’re in class, dude! Just daydream about sex like everyone else!

Anyway, after accidentally-unsettling turns in I am Dina (with the amazing Marie Bonnevie), Doctor Zhivago, and The Tudors, his agent got him a role in Sherlock Holmes, playing Lord Coward. Here’s how that went.

[Hans appears.]

Me, whispering to my mom: He’s evil.
Mom: How do you know?
Me: …he’s onscreen.

[Two minutes later, Lord Coward is revealed to be an intense creep.]

Mom: Oh, this is Hans Matheson!

I’m just saying.

Picture source: hansmatheson.org. H may be a little odd, but he’s easy on the eyes.

Found on ONTD – there is a new Oscar category for Best Thing in the World, and this person is the ONLY NOMINEE:

“Cinema 2009: 1 Year, 342 Movies, 12 Months of Production, 7 Minutes.”

I don’t know if anyone knows this, but I love movies a lot? Anyway, this is basically what the inside of my head looks like, all the time, awake or asleep. (This also explains why I forget real-life stuff – you notice there is no frame in here that says YOU ARE OUT OF MILK, for example.)

Dear person who made this: you are a genius.