Curious creatures have invaded Bethesda's Round House Theatre this freezing November night. Mock turtles, do-dos and even a Pepto-Bismol pink flamingo are in rehearsal overdrive preparing for the opening of "Alice."
Not the Alice of "bang zoom straight to the moon" fame or the one who doesn't live here anymore. This Alice is the pinafore-clad kid who couldn't resist chasing a white rabbit down its hole. And just like Lewis Carroll's "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," playwright/director Mary Hall Surface's adaptation on stage through Dec. 28, is designed for kids 6 and older and any elder ready for a visit to a good-natured loony bin.
Next door in a rehearsal room, Mock Turtle (Hugh Nees) mournfully begins singing "Beautiful Soup" before busting up. The tenacious tenor tries again, but more chuckles ensue. Meghan Grady (Alice) and Marcus Kyd (Griffin) and even Surface laughs at his attempts. Finally, the director announces "Let's forge ahead," good-naturedly calling the mischief to a halt.
She has a point. This world premiere promises to be as zany as the Mad Hatter's tea party. Upon arriving in Wonderland, Alice soon learns that the slide down was easy compared to the rest of her odyssey. Before waking up from what some might call a nightmare, she insults a hookah-smoking caterpillar, watches a baby morph into a pig and tries to reason with a mentally unstable duchess. Unable to control her own metabolism, Alice grows to the size of a baby giraffe, then shrinks to meet the gaze of a field mouse. Due to such intense physical activity, Grady (Alice) proudly notes that she is sporting "bruised knees."
"More ink has been spilled on this book than any, but for Shakespeare's works," Surface proclaims.
She isn't kidding. "Alice's" statistics are staggering. Since its 1865 publication, producers have staged at least a few thousand different adaptations from traditional plays to musicals and even a mime show. Who would have guessed that the 1960s Jefferson Airplane rock band's "Go Ask Alice" would become one of that generation's seminal songs or that today her Wonderland experience would be compared to an acid trip or immortalized in numerous music videos? Scores of youngsters are familiar with the story without ever opening the book.
It's not all mass-media madness either. Add up the literary criticism and analysis of the book's every word and it's apparent the bachelor created magic with his word play, logic and fantasy, often taking digs at his acquaintances and Victorian society.
Top it off with unsavory allegations about Carroll's preoccupation with pubescent girls (more about that later), and the story takes on an almost mythical intrigue.
Of course, Surface knew the history of the man and the topsy-turvy tale. After 25 years of working in children's theater and garnering a Helen Hayes Award nomination, the assignment, the playwright did what came naturally when she accepted the assignment. She started reading, studying and like Alice, dreaming.
Inspired by her 14-year-old daughter and the last page of Carroll's novel, Surface decided to make Alice six years older. The play begins with the youngster celebrating her 13th birthday, which Surface sees as a pivotal age in a girl's life.
"I watched my daughter and her friends change from doing cartwheels across the front yard," she says, noting that now they are "less sure of themselves. I am fascinated with the self-editing."
That Alice's "older sister laments her lost childhood" in the book "kick started" the playwright's approach. Proving her devotion to Carroll's words, Surface recites the pivotal lines: "The rattling teacups would change to tinkling sheep-bells, and the Queen's shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd boy …while the lowing of the cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle's heavy sobs."
This decision was just the beginning. "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" is "perhaps one of the hardest books because it has no plot. She [Alice] meets all these people and goes back up," she explains. "I wanted to make a story that has a strong dramatic impact, and not just a series of odd episodes."
Surface once set "The Odyssey" in Mexico, and figures, "This is no more challenging."
Round House's artistic director Blake Robison, who has a history of staging literary works, concurs. He's not about to have a bunch of "talking heads on stage. We want these characters to spring to life."
He need not worry; these characters have been entertaining children since 1865. Still, even today, Alice's adventures scare some kids and adults. Grady recalls being frightened by the "Duchess, the cook and the baby pig. The story was violent: beating the baby, throwing dishes. [As a child] I wondered, Why is she running around screaming?' But now I have learned that Alice must endure."
Robison mostly remembers the Disney version, laughingly referring to the smiling Cheshire cat as "wicked."
Of course, some might use the adjective to describe Carroll. The writer's reputation has come under attack for his being overly solicitous to young girls.
Surface insists the "jury is still out. He could have been an icky weirdo, but it must be remembered that during the Victorian Era, children were considered next to divine and closest to God, unlike adults who were one step removed and had already gone down a dark sinful path."
Whatever historians decide, for now, Surface believes Carroll was simply celebrating young girls' "curiosity and candor."
If nothing else, he made an industry out of Alice and her gang of anthropomorphic creatures – and right about now – that isn't a bad thing at all.
"Alice," an adaptation by Mary Hall Surface, is on stage at 7 p.m. Wednesday through Friday, 3 and 8 p.m. Saturday, and 3 p.m. Sunday, through Dec. 26 at Round House Theatre, 4545 East-West Highway, Bethesda. Tickets for children and teens are $20; adults; $25 to $60. Call 240-644-1100 or www.roundhousetheatre.org.