Where the Wild Things Are, the beloved children’s picture book has captured multiple generations with its subtle yet searingly true themes of childhood. In the hands of enigmatic director Spike Jonze, the film becomes a vast and looming meditation on the struggles and psyche of childhood. The boy in the wolf suit sent to bed without supper is still there, but the great adventure prompted by the immortal words “Let the wild rumpus start!” have been expanded into a soul-searching adventure of a young boy facing the challenge of holding a family together when his own is torn apart.
So how does one even begin to adapt 10 sentences of source material into a full-length feature film? The answer of course, is with great artistic liberty. Jonze and screenwriter Dave Eggers have given the story of the precocious Max context for his behavior in a world of dark fantasy and wonder.
Max, full of vivid imagination feels the weight of his parents divorce. His older sister would much rather be with her friends than spend time with him. The opening scenes have a group of the teenage friends destroying Max’s homemade igloo, and apart of his heart in the process. Before long, Max acts up to the point of finding himself cast out from the house. Not by Max’s mother, but by his own doing, he sails away to an island in which anything seems possible, because its Max’s dream.
The paper-thin plot involves the kind of details that on the surface seem little more than backyard childhood dialogue. Max and the Wild things he meets crown him king and then build forts. They discuss what happens at night when the sun goes down, and how max has magical powers unlike anyone has ever seen. The great beasts believe what Max tells them because his imagination demands that they do. The climax of Max’s time on the island involves a great war with dirt clods, the teams being evenly dissected into the “good guys” vs. “the bad guys”
In the most ambitious part of the script, Jonze and Eggers give the Wild Things a distinct personality, with plenty to say. There is the bossy know-it-all Judith (Catherine O’hara), Douglas (Chris Cooper), the sisterly K.W. (Lauren Ambrose), the gentle Ira (Forest Witaker), the boss-Thing Carol (James Gandolfini), and Alexander (Paul Dano) who is closest to Max in size and character.
The beauty of the film is that for the most part it doesn’t get too steeped in dialogue to let its most emotionally heavy-hitting moments shine through. Some of its most breathtaking scenes are shot gorgeously with actors that deliver loads of truth without speaking. The look and feel of the creatures is so real that it becomes hard to tell whether or not we’re watching CGI or actors in costumes.
Still the film feels as though it drags at times, begging the question of whether there really was enough of Maurice Sendak’s book to adapt into a movie. The heaviness of the plot’s themes do get a little cloudy for the film’s own good, but the main story arcs are powerfully derivative of its source. No, it’s not a film necessarily for kids, but it captures the timeless truth expressed in Sendak’s original book. When our world seems torn apart, even the greatest wild thing in all of us wants to know that we are loved and protected. And that our supper will still be warm when we return home.
3.5
