There was a featured article this week in Entertainment Weekly about Johnny Depp’s career descent into a sort of Disney quirky characters factory. The article wondered, given The Lone Ranger‘s dismal performance at the box office, if Depp would – for lack of a better way to put it – start trying again. The next day, Deadline broke that Depp had signed on to reprise The Mad Hatter in a sequel to Alice in Wonderland (tentatively titled Into the Looking Glass, after the second Alice book by Lewis Carroll). Tim Burton, who directed the first film, will not return; the film will be helmed by Muppets director, James Bobin. So, I suppose the answer to EW’s query would be….nope.
I honestly expected to hate Alice. I’ve tired of Tim Burton and Johnny Depp’s twin descent into career plagiarism, and I’m not sure why I even went to see it in the theater. Much to my surprise, I was really liking it. Wonderland is a canvas more open to interpretation than almost any in literature, and I was kind of seriously onboard with it. Then my review went from a 9 to a 6 in the last ten minutes of the movie. Futterwacken. I can’t even….the syllables are there in the word to make up my response to it. I don’t think a clearer example exists of someone not being able to say to a director or an actor….that’s freaking nuts, cut that. Steven Spielberg makes me feel the same way. He’s gone utterly gutless and can’t figure out how to cut a movie together to save his life, but no one can tell him otherwise. When people get to a point in their career or allow themselves to be surrounded by people who never tell them “No”, then you’re simply futterwacked.