Alice Through the Looking Glass (1998)

What makes Alice Through the Looking Glass (1998) special is how it treats Lewis Carroll’s oddball logic not as a problem to “fix,” but as a playground to step into—one that feels storybook-lush, gently uncanny, and genuinely funny in that dry, sideways way Carroll fans crave. Kate Beckinsale’s grown-up Alice gives the adventure a warm, bedtime-story frame while still letting the dream run wild, and the film’s pleasures come from its faithful parade of Chessland characters, witty wordplay, and quietly charming performances (Ian Holm in particular feels like he wandered in from a better, smarter fairy tale). The vibe is whimsical and theatrical, more cozy TV-movie enchantment than blockbuster spectacle, with just enough eerie intensity in places to keep the wonder from going soft. It may not be for viewers who want constant action or a modernized rewrite, but if you want a handsome, affectionate adaptation that respects the book’s humor and strangeness, this is an easy evening to say yes to.

This TV-movie version is clearly trying to make “Through the Looking-Glass” accessible for families by framing it as a bedtime story and leaning into a whimsical chessboard journey, with a few solid performers (Ian Holm brings some welcome warmth and eccentricity). The problem is it often feels like a string of loosely connected scenes rather than a story with momentum, and the choice to make Alice an adult can make the tone oddly confused—half children’s fantasy, half grown-up dream logic that doesn’t quite land. The pacing is sluggish and the visuals can look a bit budget-bound, so if you’re expecting the book’s sparkle or a big, magical spectacle, you may end up checking the clock. Worth a look only if you’re a Carroll completist or you enjoy stagey, episodic TV fantasy; otherwise, there are better, clearer introductions to Wonderland for kids and adults alike.