Like many people, I grew up reading Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, so I was hoping this exhibition at the At-Bristol science centre would recreate some of the wonder of Lewis Carroll's imagination. As a child I dreamed of being Alice (didn't every little girl?); perhaps this would be my chance.

To get into the spirit of the exhibition I crawled through a small black tunnel to enter the wonderland. I am not quite as agile as Alice and so a queue of eager schoolchildren gathered behind me; perhaps I should have taken the adult route.

Opposite the tunnel's exit is a hologram of the White Rabbit rushing off with his pocket watch. Effects such as this, combined with original artwork from the book and the physical exhibition structure, help to create an immersive wonderland environment. This experience was lost in some parts, but then regained in other areas of the exhibition.

The exhibition uses the narrative within Carroll's famous books to explore some surprising science. Alice is placed in the role of a scientist, getting 'curiouser and curiouser' and always asking questions. 'If I should keep falling down this hole, when I come out the other side I shall have to ask what country I am in. I wonder if they will walk on their heads?'

Coincidentally, there was an Australian family behind me in the exhibition who thought this was very funny. Together they spent five minutes enjoying a simple exhibit, a globe of the Earth that allowed them to zoom in on Sydney. In answer to Alice's question, they weren't walking on their heads.

Likening Alice to a scientist is a clever and subtle way of empowering young people to ask questions and it helps to remove the stereotypical image of what many people think a scientist is and does. Children are encouraged to follow Alice's example of exploration as they choose their own routes around this non-linear exhibition.

Alice Through the Looking Glass is marketed to potential host venues as 'intriguing visitors with demonstrations of how we make sense of the world around us… exploring the wonders of perception over reality and shows the most fascinating tricks that our brains can play', and its 60-plus exhibits manage to do this.

The scope provided by Carroll and his stories has enabled the designers to select a range of exhibits that produce counter-initiative, weird and surprising effects.

Some ingredients of the exhibition will be recognised by those familiar with many of the 'old favourite' exhibits from the now-closed Exploratory Science Centre in Bristol, and other more traditional exhibits that demonstrate abstract scientific concepts. These include many optical illusions created by Richard Gregory, the British psychologist who developed the Exploratory in the 1980s.

There is also an Ames distorting room that visitors can actually enter. The room has a variety of doors with viewing holes that allows you to peek into the world beyond. The most delightful of these reveals a selection of mini, three-dimensional scenes from Carroll's book.

One of my concerns with an exhibition using illusions is that there is often a trick to getting them to work. If you've ever tried those magic eye books and been instructed to 'look through the pattern' in order see the hidden picture', but failed and just ended up with watery eyes, then you'll have some sympathy.

Some of the exhibits are hard to figure out, but if you are lucky, one of the gallery staff will help you. It can be fun trying to work something out in a group, but on your own you might be left frustrated or assuming the exhibit doesn't work.

Another consideration is that many of the illusions rely on vision, and although there are some multi-sensory elements using sound, smell and movement, the exhibition may exclude some audiences.

Alice Through the Looking Glass was backed by ReDiscover funding and is a collaboration between At-Bristol and the Glasgow Science Centre, which has already had the show.

The two science centres produced half each and after its time at Bristol the exhibition will begin to tour in September, with the venues splitting the revenue from the hire fee. It's a sensible cost-sharing arrangement that seems to have paid off, as the final result doesn't appear like a show of two halves.

Caroll's familiar stories are used to link the exhibition together, not the educational content. Exhibits and images included are loosely related to how our brains make sense of the world around us. While illusions do cleverly show how our brains can get confused, this subject was not developed.

The content jumps around dramatically from the use of onomatopoeia in literature, to quirky activities involving ellipses, parabolas, shadows, colour, light, time, magnification, reflection and much more. These concepts are not explored in any depth, which limits the learning experience.

In addition, visitors might struggle to connect with the content and may end up asking the dreaded question: 'So what?' Perhaps linking the concepts to the visitors' daily lives would help demonstrate their relevance. But this exhibition was designed with families in mind, for whom learning often focuses more on inspiration and enjoyment.

Does it matter that there is little coherence within the educational content of the exhibition if families are inspired by science to get a taste of Alice's wonderland? There are arguments on both sides of the equation.

Vicky Brightman is the acting head of programmes at the Thinktank Science Museum in Birmingham