Where the Wild Things Are

Reviewed by J. Lunden on October 16, 2009

Maurice Sendak’s bedtime book, Where the Wild Things Are, tells the story of Max, a precocious young boy who is sent to bed without his supper for one of his many wild offenses. To escape his mother’s punishment, Max’s bedroom becomes a dense forest. Trees sprout from the floor, vines fall from the ceiling, and an ocean appears with a private boat to spirit him away to where the wild things are. The book itself is maybe fifteen pages long, with as many sentences. Yet, this deceptively simple story has an astute psychology to it. Sedak’s story and rich illustrations speak to the power of imagination and the need for transcendence. And that idea is used as a springboard for writer/director Spike Jonze and co-writer Dave Eggers’ magnificent adaptation.

In order to bring Sendak’s brief tale to life, Jonze and Eggers expand Max’s (Max Records) world to include a disinterested sister (Pepita Emmerichs) and a struggling single mother (Catherine Keener). And instead of having Max’s room be the transportive device, Jonze and Eggers utitlize all of Max’s surroundings. Max’s emotions are running wild as the world around him becomes more complex. His sister is older and no longer has time for him. Max’s mother works and is trying to start a relationship with a man (Mark Ruffalo) who is not Max’s father. In a burst of confused emotion, Max, donning his wolf suit, lashes out and bites his mother. She scolds him and Max runs off into the woods. Soon the strange and dark woods give way to the ocean where Max’s boat awaits.

When Max reaches the island where the Wild Things are, instead of just a wild rumpus (though, there is a mighty one), Jonze and Eggers expound upon Max’s “wild side” by fashioning each Wild Thing as a facet of Max—none more so than Carol (voiced by James Gandolfini), who acts as a kind of companion avatar. It’s a sort of dysfunctional family of one.

It was apparently David Fincher’s idea to use a combination of puppetry and CGI to create the Wild Things. Fincher would leave little drawings of Wild Things around Jonze’s office with one arrow pointing to the body of the creature reading “puppet” and another pointing at the head reading “CGI.” This good advice was heeded and the result is extraordinary. The Jim Henson Creature Shop-created bodies are intricately detailed and articulate, and the CGI faces bring the creatures to life with an emotional resonance like nothing I’ve ever seen. As such, the fantasy world to which Max sails is populated by some of the most incredibly realized characters, at times endearing and loveable, and at others, terrible and frightening.

The film’s visual wizardry is not its triumph, though. The most important component in any fantasy film is believability. Not only do the filmmakers have to believe in their world, but they have to convince us, as well. This is the true triumph of Where the Wild Things Are. Jonze and Eggers treat Max’s journey as absolute gospel. They understand the mechanism and the composition of Max’s emotional creations, and they never let the curtain slip, not once. There is a passage to the ocean in the woods. There is an island populated with childlike beasts who have spectacular dirt clod battles and build wondrous architectures. Of course there are. And we all know the way to these lands—at least we used to, once upon a time. So they must exist.

The adventure of Where the Wild Things Are is one of fear, joy and acceptance. It is profound in its delicacy and subtlety, in its invention and exuberance. Karen O and Carter Burwell’s score enrich the atmosphere with palpable electricity that had me wanting to leap from my uncomfortable theatre seat. At times, I wanted to run through the aisles howling at the light beaming from the projector. (I would have freaked out more than a few parents.) Moreover, Where the Wild Things Are is a film to cherish. It’s a classic and intelligent film that should never be mistaken for a “children’s movie.” This is a film for anyone who remembers the wilds of childhood. And for anyone who still dreams of far away lands and grand adventures as their eyes become heavy. Where the Wild Things Are is a masterpiece. It moved me. I believed.