Reel Review: Alice and the Vampire Queen

“Alice and the Vampire Queen” is a fun culinary concept, but poor choices and undercooked jokes left me feeling extra salty.

I need to be frank (as in direct, not referring to hot dogs). Yes, this is going to be a thing. Get used to it. Food-themed wordplay will keep us entertained as I explain my thoughts on Alice and the Vampire Queen.

Having words like ‘angry’ and ‘acrid’ simmer in my mind as the best terms to describe my reaction to a movie is rare. It’s rare, like atypical, not undercooked — although I need to weave that word here, too. That’s because if he is ever trusted to helm another feature project, Dan Lantz should be required to seek feedback during the writing and storyboarding phases of his effort. And that feedback should come from more than just white, male-identifying sidekicks.

Now, I need to take you on a quick tangent to articulate why I should have been the ideal patron at this Alice in Wonderland-themed establishment.

I am partial to the full spectrum of full-blown reimaginings and subtle nods to classic tales and folklore. I taught Sunday School in an Episcopalian church in high school, drawn to sharing the lesson-based Biblical stories. My first introduction to mythology was in fifth grade (grade 5 for my Canadian peers), and I took every elective course on the menu through high school and university to expand my knowledge in the area of mythology and folklore.

I have had the privilege of learning with and from First Nations, Métis, and Inuit here in Canada, where teachings often come through stories and oral traditions.

My appreciation for this type of cinematic cuisine is grounded in a profound interest and love. Therefore, I offer A LOT of grace to those who share this appreciation and attempt to infuse their flavor into a familiar dish. I also try to approach any review from a strengths-based position.

Ok, hold up — a second digression. I can do that.

Some of the ingredients were fresh.

The vampire club’s need for a chef as a means to connect Alice and the Queen was intriguing (there was so much untapped potential in this relationship). Shelby Hightower (Alice) and Graham Wolfe (Charles) offered the only dishes worth ordering here with their performances. I did appreciate the walk-in freezer and cleaver scene teased in the trailer, too.

The vast majority, though, inspired those other, more pungent descriptors.

So, how can I say what I’m feeling about this film without those rage-y sentiments souring your experience here? Fuck it. I can’t. So, Mr. Lantz? If we ever meet face-to-face, I’m prepared to own this Richie-worthy moment of unabashed honesty (you knew I couldn’t do this review without a reference to The Bear, duh).

First, Lantz should have had more faith in the audience’s intelligence or palate. Alice in Wonderland is such an oft-applied construct that many (if not most) would taste and name the notes easily.

There could have been a (much lighter) drop about the White Rabbit to gently confirm suspicions and then let us discover the brilliance of the full menu and pairings. And Lantz didn’t just puree the connections for ease of consumption; he slathered on the overt references like the gloopy hollandaise you’d expect over the local diner’s eggs bennie.

We’re talking ladle-fulls; the Mad Hatter’s equivalent was named Gordon Ramsay Dahmer.

(Don’t get me wrong, there’s a reason why almost every breakfast joint offers eggs bennie.)

This might even sound funny and now be piquing your interest, but I promise it’s better on paper than in practice.

Of course, one miss does not tank a whole meal. So, what was the nail in this vampire’s coffin for me? Or, in keeping with the theme, what was the dish that caused heartburn worse than the splintered crosses in the final tartare offering?

I have no time for the lower-than-entry-level, bullshit attempt at presenting strong, central women characters with what feels like little-to-no authentic appreciation or empathy for the very real experiences that would inform the characters or defining moments of this film.

Alice, the Vampire Queen, Madeline, and Sofia should never have been plated around lines like these:

And these are only a few I bothered to jot down. A sampler plate, if you will. Jabs aimed at those on the bottom of the coin must be handled deftly and with purpose.

Only some had a purpose. Others were attempts at “jokes” that had as much taste as cream of celery soup. Then, Lantz’s directorial choices in each of these moments left me feeling like he was preparing beef carpaccio with room temperature meat and a hatchet (read: worst possible approach).

The bottom line in this horror content Yelp equivalent: This establishment doesn’t deserve your money.

Further to that, any time Dan Lantz tries to make a reservation of my time, I will be fully committed.