Put things in perspective

"Off with her head! Off with her head!," shouted the Red Queen.

I've just seen Alice in Wonderland, the latest adaptation of Carroll's famous tale by the Mouse Empire, aka Walt Disney, directed by Tim Burton. I had to wear these big black glasses, cause the movie is in 3D. And at the end, as I went out of the screen, I felt dizzy, my legs slightly shaky.
I couldn't help but wonder how this new technology will improve over the years. Sometimes I had the impression of seeing a pop-up book instead of a movie, with the characters unnaturally in the foreground and a background overly set at the back of the scene, too blurred. I believe that in a couple of years time we will look at these early 3D movies the same amused way we now watch films from the 1960s, when the scenes where the characters drove were just set in a studio with a fake still backdrop and a shaky bonnet of a car.

You just need to put things in perspective. Wonderland is a magic world where disproportion reigns - a queen with a bump of a head, a king with oblong limbs and slow-motion like moves, Alice who stretches from mouse-size to giant eating cakes. But the real world can be just as puzzling when we cross the borders of our land. Arts prove it. When I went to the Tate Gallery, in one of the rooms I found myself surrounded by enormous chairs and a huge table, much taller than I was. And I became a startled Alice.

My friend recently moved to Germany, some 550 km north from where she has lived all her life in Italy. She couldn't be more surprised, though. First of all, those crazy crucchi don't have speed limits. Hence, they flash past wasted lands (at least where she lives) like bolts. Secondly, those nasty Germans collect the rubbish only twice a month. My friend is still bewildered at the amount of litter she has to keep in her house before putting it out for the garbage truck to come and get it. Thirdly, when her husband tried to get rid of a litter bag on someone else's property (a petrol station), he was tracked down and called back to pick up his rubbish. You may think that the station clerk jotted down the car numberplate. Nope. He rummaged through the rubbish to find a scrabbled number on the envelope of a letter.
Mad people, eh? Compared to the Mad Hatter they're real nuts!

So, you see. Playing cards that brandish swords and rabbits that wear waistcoats are not that far-fetched after all. At the same time, old habits don't die once you've crossed the Channel. I walked back home after the movie, just as I used to walk back home from the video rental after watching a dvd in the middle of the night. Alone. Fast. Looking at my own shadow.
Feeling free and a character of a film myself.

In this city full of CCTV it's almost true.