Where the Wild Things Are: a beautifully nostalgic rumpus

Where the Wild Things Are movie poster
Courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures

Every child, at one point or another, loved Maurice Sendak’s classic 338-word picture book Where the Wild Things Are and wished they were king (or queen) of their own menagerie of wild things. That is why when the trailer for the film was first released most were not only intrigued, but also absolutely amazed by how Spike Jonze—who has been M.I.A. since his 2002 Adaptation.—had turned this tiny book into a visually stunning 94-minute film.

The buzz surrounding the film was tremendous, especially among those in the 20-somethings demographic who's childhood was spent reading Sendak's lovable work. Jonze’s Where the Wild Things Are is so endearing and intimate that it makes audience members long for their childhood and the days where imagination was infinite.

The film centers around Max (Max Records) and the imaginary worlds he creates for himself. His dad left his family, his sister ignores him and his mother (Catherine Keener), despite loving Max, is focused on paying the bills and finding a new love. This forces Max to retreat into his own creative world with imaginary characters. After one particular fight with his mother, Max storms out of his house, clad in his wolf suit and stumbles upon a boat in a forest.

He sails the boat all the way to this mysterious island where he sees a light through the trees. When he investigates as to where the light is coming from he encounters a group of enormous furry creatures around a fire arguing about the loss of one of their members, KW (voiced by Lauren Ambrose). Their leader, Carol (James Gandolfini), is destroying their huts and Max, who had been hiding in the bushes, decides to join in.

Although Carol is impressed by Max—”There’s a spark to your work that can’t be taught,” he says—the rest of the group menacingly gangs up on Max in an attempt to eat him. They only cease their torment when Max yells out “Be still!” and explains to them that he is a king with powers that conquered Vikings, creatures, he claims, much bigger than the wild things. Carol then anoints Max as their King.

What proceeds next is an example of too much of a good thing: the wild things and Max are enjoying being carefree and spontaneous—they even attempt to create their own world where “everything you want to happen, happens”—until things go horribly wrong and this once perfect world changes.

Jonze has the amazing ability to tell this story without ever saying a word. His subtle ability to show rather than tell is in almost every second of the film. For instance, in one of the first scenes of the film Max is shown lying on his bed dejectedly staring at the globe his father left him. This sense of solitude and sadness that Max must be feeling after losing his father is immediately felt. Jonze cuts to different aspects of the room and demonstrates that Max is really creative in his projects, but also very lonely since he is forced to play alone. It is already apparent that this is a boy consumed by sorrow attempting to escape it with his fantasies.

Yet, not all of the film is tragic. Once Max is with the wild things, the film becomes silly and childlike in its humor. There is a particularly excellent sequence in which the wild things and Max are having a dirt clog fight. Max is telling the opposing team to “Come out” and they respond with “No” to which Max says “Why not?” And they of course say, “Because you are going to hit us in the head with dirt.” This prompts Max to admit very innocently “Man, they’ve really got us figured out.” The childlike naivete and enthusiasm that Max has is beguiling and heartwarming. The fact that he thought that his ploy to lure out his “enemies” by simply telling them to come out would work is quite sweet. Jonze films the movie so intimately that audience members feel, just like Max, that they too have the world in the palm of their hands.

By the end, that illusion is lost and real life trumps. Yet, that feeling of childlike wonder is never lost.

Check out a personal account of a real midnight rumpus for a special screening of ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ published in the Independent Weekly’s Arts Blog.

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