The Mad Hatter’s Tea Party. White Bear Theatre.

It is 6pm again. Time has stopped, so trapping the Mad Hatter, the March Hare, a farting Dormouse, and the audience in an endlessly repeating tea party. Only the bread is mouldy, and the tea is cold and this being Wonderland “nothing makes sense”.  The Mad Hatter tells us to “you do realise this is a party, don’t you… embrace the madness” in one of many direct addresses to the audience. Avoid the front row if you dislike audience interaction.

Writer and director James Hyland’s absurdist adaptation of one of the most iconic scenes from Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland successfully creates its own world, one that is unpredictable, irrational, and devoid of logic and reason. But what does it all mean? What are we doing here and what are we waiting for? “I refuse to believe there’s a spot of meaning in it” says the March Hare towards the end of the show. You may well end up agreeing.

Hyland’s dialogue is filled with riddles, wordplay, puns, and paradoxes and is often hard to follow. In Carroll’s original Alice eventually grows tired of the nonsensical conversation and leaves. But the audience does not get that opportunity so, try to make sense of it we must. The show blurb poses the question “who is to blame for this never-ending party”. The conundrum is indeed addressed in a disjointed kind of way in a story involving falling out with the queen of hearts, a jabberwocky, and a shipwreck. The tale is rich in imagery if entirely nonsensical.

Narrative obscurities aside there is much to enjoy here, and the 60-minutes of madness passes by agreeably enough. Hyland’s breathlessly physical turn as the Mad Hatter, amplified by the exaggerated gestures and expressions of a 19^th century ham tragedian, comes close to overwhelming the White Bear Theatre’s intimate space. But it is riveting all the same: think Richard E Grant on steroids and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Joshua Jewkes’s quizzical, questioning, amnesiac March Hare, who supposes he has been sitting at the table for “nigh on 100 years” but cannot quite be sure, is less histrionic but equally watchable.

Add in to the mix the said farting Dormouse (courtesy of Hyland as hand puppeteer), evocative accordion music from Chris Warner, and a magic hat that has miraculous and inexplicable effects on an audience member. There is no resolution here and we leave with ambiguity and unanswered questions. “You don’t have to understand, just listen” the Mad Hatter tells us. Sage advice.

Writer and Director: James Hyland