REVIEW: Alice in Wonderland - Ballet Theatre Queensland

Ballet Theatre Queensland – Alice in Wonderland

Choreography, Direction & Story: Clare Morehen

Music, Orchestrations & Story: Lucas D. Lynch

Costume Design: Rebekah Ellis

Set Design: Josh McIntosh

Lighting Design: Ben Hughes

Sound Design: Wil Hughes

Orchestra: Cadenza Chamber Players

Photography: Quince and Mulberry Studios

Fresh off the success of Snow White and Cinderella in 2025 — and well-earned Stage Buzzie Awards — Ballet Theatre Queensland has built a reputation for taking familiar stories and refusing to treat them familiarly. With Alice in Wonderland, the company delivers an exhilarating reimagining that whisks Lewis Carroll’s iconic tale out of the rabbit hole and onto a bustling 1930s Hollywood film studio. Think sepia Art Deco and Depression-era grit colliding with neon signage, sequins, and big-band pizzazz. It was the kind of Golden Age glamour most of us only know through classic films and theme-park recreations… until now.

From the moment audiences arrived on opening night, there was a very particular kind of buzz in the air: the “we’re about to be thoroughly spoiled” variety. The whole venue felt celebratory before a single note was played. And when that first note did arrive? Oh, it wasn’t a gentle invitation. It was a wink and a warning: time is ticking.

Lucas D. Lynch’s score leans into this tension, with ticking motifs and whimsical descending phrases creating a sense of urgency that never quite lets the audience relax; as if the entire world is behind schedule and only Alice is curious enough to question why. It’s an immediate signal that this production isn’t just pretty to look at; it’s purposeful, playful, and packed with ideas. Composer–choreographer collaborations of this depth are a core strength of BTQ. And it shows! Because every scene is purpose-built, musically and physically intertwined, rather than layered after the fact.

With performers drawn from 24 different dance schools, this production doesn’t just showcase excellence in dance, it showcases community. The stamina required across this predominantly young cast — from rapid sequences, cramped backstage, stylistic shifts, and relentless pacing — cannot be overstated.

Sepia Streets to Technicolour Dreams

The ballet opens in a world of restraint and repetition: a muted, post-depression street scene. Alice enters in a brown schoolgirl outfit and boots, nimble and grounded, reading her copy of Alice in Wonderland. Around her, similarly dressed townsfolk drift beneath a dull Hollywood sign, some seeking work, others simply passing time, all caught in the monotony of routine.

The action shifts into a classroom overseen by a domineering Headmistress, ruler in hand, complete with an actual blackboard (where did they find one of those nowadays?!). The children are drilled through repetitive, nonsensical exercises, their movement stripped of individuality and joy. As the teacher twirls around the room with oppressive precision, the choreography by Clare Morehen beautifully captures control masquerading as order.

When Alice follows the flustered White Rabbit down a steam grate and straight through the orchestra pit, the transformation on stage is exhilarating! The music slides into jazzy intrigue, the palette bursts from sepia into shimmering colour, and Wonderland is revealed not as the rabbit-hole fantasy we know, but as the luminous imagination of Golden Age Hollywood alive with possibility! This is an Alice built not on whimsy alone, but on industry, imagination, and the cost of creativity.

A Wonderland That Never Stops Moving

Once inside the Hollywood film studio, the eye is constantly drawn everywhere at once, thanks to Josh McIntosh’s set design. This Wonderland never stands still. Dancers move the set pieces themselves with impressive coordination, meaning transitions happen mid-motion and momentum is never lost. Doors appear, dressing rooms materialise, and entire worlds shift before you’ve even registered the last one.

The use of double-tiered staging at the rear of the set allows for even more visual surprises, particularly during large ensemble numbers. While one group dazzles front and centre, another is already building the next picture behind them, creating a constant sense of activity that mirrors the frantic energy of a real working film studio. Top hats off to the creative team and dancers (especially given the Concert Hall’s lack of wings or a fly tower!) Around them, neon signs — including a clever glowing “Drink Me” vanity and “Eat Me” diner sign — illuminated props, glowing puppetry, and sequinned showgirl flamingos flood the stage.

Glamour and Glitter

The costuming is nothing short of extraordinary. Rebekah Ellis’ designs lean fully into 1930s Hollywood glamour while still allowing complete freedom of movement. Alice’s transformation into her Wonderland attire is a visual delight: pink satin, golden sequins, and a signature purple ribbon that keeps her instantly recognisable amid the chaos. The attention to detail given to every costume piece of this large ensemble cannot be understated (all the way down to the colourful pointe shoes!) Even the littlest performers — dressed in tiny pink hearts, and dapper suits, they were utterly charming and brought audible “awws” from the audience. The onstage costume changes of the Diva and Alice (clearly necessitated by the venue’s constraints) become part of the spectacle rather than a distraction.

Genevieve Schofield’s Alice absolutely glistens with imagination. From her first entrance, she captures that essential sense of curiosity and wonder, balancing childlike movement with highly assured technique. Schofield blends ballet, jazz, and theatrical storytelling with ease, adapting her physical acting as Alice grows in confidence and agency. Her solo moments shimmer with dreaming and possibility, and she remains the emotional anchor of the production throughout.

Jordan Lennon’s Leading Man (the Blue Caterpillar) is suave, commanding, and undeniably cool, complete with a fabulous suit-and-hat design — with actual smoke coming from his jacket somehow (?!). His movement quality is smooth and confident as he toys with Alice through riddles and gorgeously fluid lifts.

As the Mad Hatter-turned-film director, Jayden Grogan delivers one of the production’s biggest highlights. His bluesy, jazz-laced showstopper crackles with energy and showmanship, unapologetically bold in its eccentricity. The percussion section was clearly having the time of its life, propelling the number forward and pulling the audience along for the ride.

One of the evening’s biggest laughs comes courtesy of the diner kitchen scene, led by Matilda Kimlin’s gloriously frazzled Cook and Scarlett Hutley’s serenely oblivious Duchess. Paired with a frenetic strings score and staged with gleeful screwball chaos, the comedy hits the mark. Kimlin’s reactions — especially in the later slow-motion dressing-room meltdown — had me absolutely cackling. Tweedledum and Tweedledee — Chloe Hough and Zara Strelen — appear as mischievous wardrobe assistants in vibrant dresses, sunglasses, and beautifully styled wigs, stitching themselves directly into the story.

As the perpetually flustered film producer, Matthew Erlandson’s White Rabbit is everywhere at once and utterly brilliant at it. Darting across the stage in a vibrant orange tuxedo, he leaps like he’s got springs in his shoes and captures the stressed-out energy. Kohei Iwamoto as the Diva’s devoted and long-suffering PA (King of Hearts) brings big attitude and big hair to the role. Lily Pietsch appeared as the energetic Cinematographer (March Hare), and Hadley Hooper’s adorably exhausted PA to the Director (Dormouse), whose commitment to perpetual fatigue was both so real and hilarious.

And then there is the Diva...

Sophia Gougoulas makes an entrance worthy of legend, arriving in a Daimler-style '30s shiny red vehicle. Draped in red fur, crowned with an enormous hat, and adorned with a dazzling heart-shaped necklace, she commands immediate attention… and fear. I literally said “YAS QUEEN” as she stepped out.

Her Queen of Hearts is deliciously dual: impossibly glamorous and soft-focus romantic when the cameras are rolling, yet ruthlessly volatile the moment they stop. Gougoulas navigates this split with relish. A romantic pas de deux in a slinky white gown and bouncy blonde wig opposite Jordan Lennon reveals her at her most refined — all old-Hollywood grace and luminous poise. This “Action!” sequence is underscored by a score that feels like My Fair Lady meets La La Land… but better. Then, just as quickly, the glamour unravels. Her off-camera dressing-room meltdown — staged in slow motion — is a masterclass in theatrical comedy.

Music, Movement & Spectacle

Lucas D. Lynch’s ambitious score throws its arms wide and fully commits, drawing from jazz, blues, Broadway, and classical with nods to Gershwin, Porter, and golden-era film composers. Lynch makes full use of his expanded brass and winds orchestration, and at times it feels as though every instrument and sound effect at his disposal is in play at once. From smoky nightclub moods to glorious big-band blasts, the score never settles into predictability.

The Cadenza Chamber Players rise admirably to the challenge of this demanding new music, navigating its rhythmic complexity with impressive stamina and cohesion. With a full 46-piece orchestra in the pit, the sound has a cinematic sweep rarely heard in dance productions of this scale. Filmic sound effects — including the whirr of a rolling film reel — heighten the Hollywood illusion and immersion, while Ben Hughes’ lighting design expertly guides the audience through the visual feast, drawing the eye precisely where it needs to be amid constant motion and layered staging.

The choreography by Clare Morehen features extensive use of canons, particularly in the feathered fan sequences, creating ripple effects across the stage that are both visually thrilling and technically demanding. Full-throttle jazz explosions accompany kicklines, parasol and feather-fan movement, and exuberant Charleston sequences (while wearing pointe shoes I might add!) Every number somehow manages to top the last.

A particular highlight is the Cheshire Cat — a large, glowing, fragmented puppet. Cleverly concealed puppeteers and low lighting create the illusion of floating, disembodied body parts and a mischievous grin, prompting audible gasps from the audience. It’s theatrical magic at its most delightful, and yet another reminder of the ingenuity on display throughout this production.

The courtroom scene swings into a deeply jazzy blues groove, anchored by a sultry bassline and shimmering cymbals that ooze drama. From there, the production launches headlong into its finale, erupting into glorious, organised chaos. Hats off to Stage Manager Emma Healy, because the sheer coordination required in these final moments is breathtaking. With onstage costume changes, fast-moving set pieces, and a cast pouring in and out of the action, the energy never drops. I found myself holding my breath, acutely aware that just beyond the makeshift wings there must have been absolute mayhem.

Alice returns to a world that appears unchanged... but she is not the same girl who left it. Inspired, emboldened, and full of possibility, she pulls out a notebook and begins to write. It’s a simple, quietly powerful ending that lands beautifully, reinforcing the production’s central message: that adventure can be found through books, through imagination, and through the act of storytelling itself.

I couldn’t agree more.