Where the Wild Things Are is sad, beautiful, and strange. Having had a day to turn it over in my mind, it’s still difficult to say how I feel about it. But I think that’s a good thing, because despite my initial mixed feelings, the film kept me thinking about it for a long time after I left the theater.
The movie begins with Max (played by Max Records) an energetic, emotional boy who is having trouble coming to terms with his changing world. His sister is becoming an adult and bonding with friends whom she’d rather be around than her little brother. Max’s dad is completely absent and his mom, while obviously a loving and caring mother, is dating a new man. Overwhelmed, Max acts out, eventually culminating in his running away and imagining the land where the Wild Things are. There, the Wild Things make Max their king, and the wild rumpus begins.
Max Records is pitch perfect as the wild, emotive little boy – he carries the whole film on his shoulders, particularly during the 80 or so minutes in which he is the only human onscreen. Which brings me to the Wild Things themselves, which I think are also as close to perfect as is humanly possible. Created with a combination of real puppets and CGI, the monsters are incredibly expressive and realistic. They look exactly like Maurice Sendak’s original illustrations, so if you’re a fan of the book, you won’t be disappointed. And finally, the soundtrack, composed for the film by Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, is simply magical, and seamlessly enhances the story as it unfolds.
Max’s dialogue and demeanor are wholly, authentically childlike, which is surprisingly rare in a movie for or about children. Max is not annoyingly precocious or adorable – he is simply a child, which is wonderful to watch. However, the Wild Things are a little less straightforward, possibly to the detriment of the movie. They are large and intimidating at first, but that intimidation quickly dissolves into cutesy banter and voices that seem just a little too human and adult. In short, the Wild Things don’t seem quite wild enough, though there are a few scenes where wild abandon seems to take over, such as when they have a rowdy dirt clod fight, which are some of the best scenes.
The Wild Things are manifestations of Max, his family and the conflicts taking place within his family (echoes of Max’s mother, sister, and father are obvious in many of the Wild Things), which is somewhat effective. However, the subtext of that the monsters’ dialogue is too complicated for young children to understand, and conversely, too simple for adults. There just isn’t much of a plot in Where the Wild Things Are, which makes sense when you consider it was based on a picture book containing maybe 20 short sentences. Despite all the gorgeous images and pretty music, the story definitely lags during some longwinded scenes with the monsters - they simply talk too much about too little. They are rather depressing monsters, too.
Although sad and a little drawn out, Where the Wild Things Are is an unmistakably striking and affecting film. It truly captures the magic of childhood and the pain of growing up, although it may be a bit melancholic about the whole thing. Either way, it’s worth a look, if only to let your inner child out for a few hours.
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