A Thomas Bess review of:
Directed By: Spike Jonze
Starring: Max Records, Catherine Keener, James Gandolfini, Paul Dano, Catherine O’Hara, Forest Whitaker, Michael Berry Jr., Chris Cooper, Lauren Ambrose
Run Time: 101 tantrum throwing, wild rumpus starting minutes.
Ok, before we get to the review lemme just say this. If anyone reading this far has NOT read Maurice Sendak’s classic Where the Wild Things Are, minimize this window and get thee to a bookstore. Not at the end of the review, not in a few minutes, right flippin’ now. It clocks in at a grand total of about ten sentences and maybe twelve pages so it doesn’t involve a huge time commitment. I’d wager that if you have even a shred of functioning imagination, it’ll stick in your head for a very long time to come. Don’t worry, I can wait… (whistles a few bars of the Halloween theme) Ahhh good, you’re back and presumably your inner child is feeling sated. And if you’re of the kind that has outer children (i.e. real kids) you’re probably wondering if Spike Jonze’s adaptation is worth a trip to the theater. The answer is a qualified yes. You’ll probably dig the hell out of if. But the little ones? Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe.
Plot is as follows — Max (Records) is a precocious, spirited lad without any friends to play with which means he spends a lot of time annoying the hell out of his mom (Keener) and sister. After a few incidents that modern child psychologists would call “acting out” and normal folks would call being downright obnoxious, Max goes running off into the woods and stumbles across a small boat. Displaying a level of sailing ability far beyond the usual preteen, he braves a storm and ends up on an island that’s home to every possible geographical feature on earth and a group of eight “Wild Things” that seem to be in some sort of social upheaval that’s never fully explained. Max soon establishes himself as king of this motley crew (which includes the voices of Gandolfini, O’Hara, Whitaker, and Ambrose) and together they do things like sleep in piles, build a giant fort, organize an epic dirt clod fight and go on a journey of self discovery all before Max heads back to his smaller, less bestial family.
What’s good? From a strictly visual standpoint, you probably won’t see a prettier film this year. The island of the Wild Things is stunning–primeval forests elbowing in against sweeping deserts, sheer cliff faces and I’m sure there are a few other features I’m forgetting. And major kudos to whoever decided on practical effects for the Wild Things. Done by Jim Henson’s Creature Shop, they look like they’ve crawled from the pages of Sendak’s book and the very weight and scale of them makes it far easier to believe Max is interacting with another character as opposed to something that was actually a tennis ball on a stick during the filming process. Voice acting for the Things is excellent all around with Gandolfini’s mercurial Carol and O’Hara’s prickly Judith being the standouts. Personally I was a big fan of “The Bull” (Berry Jr.) but he’s got a grand total of two lines, so he doesn’t really contribute much to the story other than standing around and looking cool.
What’s not good? Gotta be honest, for the first twenty or thirty minutes Max is a total jerkwad. Now it’s hinted he doesn’t have the greatest home life, but his Mom’s trying her best and she certainly doesn’t deserve to get chomped on by the little brat just because he’s not the center of attention. Thankfully he does redeem himself starting midway through the second act, but early on he’s a poster child for why corporal punishment should be okay. On the narrative side of things, there isn’t really any clear conflict established when Max arrives on the island. While it’s clear that the Wild Things are dealing with some sort personal drama, it’s never really fleshed out and even when he takes his leave, their situation hasn’t changed noticeably (though they’re at least starting down the right path). And for a movie that’s supposed to be friendly and for children, there are several sequences that… well, ya know those times when you were a kid hanging out with a group of friends and everyone started in on something fun, then one of them took it too far and it just got uncomfortable? Where the Wild Things Are has three or four sequences that end like that. All in all, it’s a beautiful looking film that will definitely make you think. But it’s not all that fun and perhaps a bit too cerebral for the kids it’s marketed to.
Should you see it? That’s a tough call. If you’re a twenty or thirty something that grew up reading the book, I think you’ll enjoy seeing what Jonze has done to expand the source material. But if you’re looking for something light and breezy to take your own kids to, I’d consider checking it out yourself first before taking them along. When in doubt, just read them the book a few more times. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.
Til next time, always remember that the calls are coming from inside the house.
Tom Bess has sideburns that are so big they might be considered a beard shaving accident from afar. He blames his current mental state on Stephen King, Mike Nelson, Seth McFarlane and Vince McMahon but bears them no ill will. He passes his time writing movie reviews, but will flee the interwebs forever as soon as Allison Mack starts returning his calls.
Most Talked About