K.B. Tokin is assisted this month by guest writer Dr. Theo Boone.

Hello, Cinema Fans:

It may come as a shock to you that Mr. Tokin is allowing me to write his movie review for Red Shtick Magazine this month. I must say, it’s even more of a shock to me, as the only reason I am “allowed” to write this piece is that Mr. Tokin is quite unable to do so himself.

Still, despite the drug-induced fog that he is, by degrees, beginning to snap out of, it was stressed to me that he was on a deadline, so I offered to help.

I am not, by nature, a humorous man. Most doctors of psychiatry have this in common. However, like anyone else, I do enjoy a good movie. And so it was that I drove my son Ian to the local cinema for a night out.

The only parking space available was next to a car that was so beat-up it seemed to reek of bad decisions. I call it a car, but it gave the air of being more of a relic from some old war in which it had fared badly.

I was more than a bit nervous about parking there as, surrounding the car, there was a small group of men attempting to coax another man off the roof of the vehicle and back onto the ground. While normally I would inquire if the man needed assistance, this was a rare night off with my son, and I simply wanted to get inside.

As we passed, I noticed the man on the car was wearing 3-D glasses, watching his fingers wave in front of his face, and occasionally whirling about the roof of the car while muttering something musical under his breath. No – definitely not anything I wanted to wade into that night. And so it was that – amidst the angry pleas of 3-D Man’s friends – Ian and I made our way inside.

Alice in Wonderland: One of my favorite stories from my youth had again been turned into a motion picture. I was excited to see what Ian’s reaction to the classic story would be. I was also delighted to find out it was in 3-D – though it was an unpleasant reminder of the gentleman outside.

I had never seen a film by director Tim Burton, and I was immediately taken in by the lushly composed music. But almost as soon as I began to settle in, I realized this was not the Alice of my youth. This was a bleak terrain with bright but sickly coloring that I imagine Salvador Dali would have seen as a Nirvana. What I was seeing was Alice in Cooper-Land.

OK, I took a stab at being funny. I told you I wasn’t.

I cannot describe my utter astonishment at the dark beauty of what was unspooling before me. This was not a pretty world I saw; however, it was utterly beautiful.

My son’s reaction was pretty much what I feared it might be: abject terror! Imagine the scariest thing that crawled from your imagination as a child. Now imagine that it was right there in your face and looked able to jump into your lap and steal your popcorn. We didn’t last 30 minutes.

Back in the parking lot, my crying son stopped midsob and pointed. “That man is still on that car, Daddy.”

This caused all of the man’s friends to turn toward us as we approached. They had been staring at the man in a patient way, the way you might study a really interesting bug. They seemed resigned to wait until the man stopped his muttering and came down.

But 3-D Man kept whirling about and exclaiming he was “Late. Very important date. Must not be late.” Then he would sing the same musical tune under his breath I’d heard before.

It all became too horribly clear. The man was not just acting an ass: He was clearly under the influence of some drug, or he was not in his right mind. I would have to help. Jim Dandy.

I waded in (after locking Ian in the car). “Um, pardon me?” I said to the nearest one. “What seems to be your friend’s problem?”

The large man turned to me. “Gone mad, I expect.”

“I see. And is he like this often?”

“Depends on what he’s taken,” said another.

I could not ignore the musical muttering. “Is … is he singing?”

“Wrote a song,” said the large one again.

“The ‘Bong Song,’” said the other.

“The what?” I asked.

Suddenly, 3-D Man sang quite clearly. “Bong ba-bong bong bong.”

“We don’t like it,” the larger man offered.

“Look, can I be of some help …” And so it was that, to make a long story short, I made arrangements for 3-D Man, whose name, as it turns out, is K.B. Tokin, to be taken to a hospital.

I took it upon myself to perform an informal examination of Mr. Tokin while he awaited the hospital staff. His helpful friends had removed the last three “hits” of LSD from his pocket before they drove his “car” away from the flashing ambulance. It became clear in very short order that Mr. Tokin had taken more than his share of LSD before watching Alice in Wonderland, and the ill effects he was suffering were the result.

What follows is some of my conversation with Mr. Tokin. It should be noted that I later returned to the theater to watch Alice in Wonderland in full so that his comments would be better understood.

Some random comments from Mr. Tokin:

“The Red Queen. Head. Really big head.”

This is true: Helena Bonham Carter, who, I understand, is engaged to the director who currently supplies my son with his nightmares, does play the Red Queen, and the special effects have made her look as if she has a giant head.

“I think they just shrunk her body, cuz her head has always been huge.”

Now that I think on it, Mr. Tokin is correct.

“The White Queen. Head.”

Anne Hathaway plays the White Queen. However, she is as beautiful as always.

“What about her head?” I asked.

“I want her to give me head.”

Walked right into that one.

“Did I get here in a ‘bam-ba-lance’?”

Yes. I had called a “bam-ba-lance.” “If you’d got here in a hearse, it would’ve been worse!”

He did not laugh. Apparently, even to the doped-up, I am not funny.

“Was Johnny Depp driving it?”

No. Johnny Depp was the Mad Hatter in the film, and as usual, he made the part his very own, providing a twist of magic and oddity as only he can.

“Hey, did you hear my song?”

I did hear the song.

“Did you like it?”

I … I did hear the song.

“I’m gonna be late! I have a very important date.”

With some prodding, it was explained that he meant the due date of his review. I told him I would take care of it.

“Hey … hey … hey … guess what?”

“What?”

“Zzzzzzzzzzzz…” And so ended my time with Mr. Tokin.

For what my opinion is worth, Alice in Wonderland is a great film. The experience is breathtaking. The script Mr. Burton works from now seems like a more linear story than the random series of events it has always felt like before.

There is a special bond between Depp and the wonderful Mia Wasikowska, who plays Alice. For the first time I can remember, Alice is played with depth and humanity instead of as the starry-eyed “little girl lost” that we all remember.

The scope of the cinematography cannot be overstated. The locales in this film are spellbinding and make you jealous you did not fall down the rabbit hole to join Alice in this off-kilter world.

I recommended the film itself and Danny Elfman’s score with zero hesitation.

Well, this has been unusual but fun. As I understand it, Mr. Tokin is doing well and slowly recovering. I hope my efforts on his part have not been too feeble.