When I first saw the trailer for Where the Wild Things Are, Spike
Jonze's big-screen adaptation of the classic Maurice Sendak book, I was
immediately impressed by the visuals, as young Max and each of the Wild
Things he encounters seems to have been flawlessly transformed to three
dimensions through the magic of puppetry and computer animation.
Although I never counted the succinct but stirring picture book as a
particular favorite, I enjoyed it, and I was curious to see how it might
translate into an hour and a half long movie. I got to find out
yesterday. The visuals still swept me away, as did many other elements
of the film. But though I expected the movie to be a bit dark for a film
likely to be seen by millions of children, I wasn't prepared for how
gutted I would feel during and after the viewing. Rarely have I had such
a visceral reaction to a movie.
Where the Wild Things Are
revolves around Max, portrayed with primal ferocity by young unknown
Max Records, who screams and slashes his way through his everyday life
and his stint as the ruler of the Wild Things, all while dressed in a
wonderful wolf suit. Other humans are scarcely present. Catherine
Keener's role as Max's mom, an understanding but overtaxed divorcee, is
the most significant. Blink and you'll miss Mark Ruffalo as her
boyfriend, who unwittingly sparks Max's massive meltdown. Only barely
more visible is Pepita Emmerichs, another unknown playing Max's older
sister Claire, who clearly loves her little brother but currently
gravitates more toward friends. Max's big scene with her and her pals is
both exhilarating and devastating, with a brief compassionate gesture
by one of Claire's friends our best invitation to sympathize with her
perspective. In just a few sentences in one short scene, Steve Mouzakis
establishes Max's teacher as a man possessing passion but little regard
for his students' sensitivities.
The bulk of the movie takes
place with the Wild Things, each of which has a precise visual
inspiration in the book, though the specific personality traits are
invented for the film. Most of the creatures are representative of some
element of Max's own personality. Big, lumbering Ira (Forest Whitaker)
is gentle and simply longs for affection. Rhino-like Judith (Catherine
O'Hara) is perpetually sullen and snarky, while the nearly silent bull
(Michael Berry Jr.) keeps to himself. Alexander (Paul Dano), a goat,
often feels neglected. Douglas (Chris Cooper), a bird, is fiercely
loyal. Most of all, James Gandolfini's Carol, a loose cannon of a
creature who hero-worships Max and is furious when he fails to live up
to his expectations, reflects the rage and frustration Max has been
feeling. Alone among the Wild Things, K. W. (Lauren Ambrose) seems to
serve a different purpose. Warmly maternal, she helps Max to work out
his complicated feelings about his mother and sister while she attempts
to demonstrate to him that inviting new people into one's life doesn't
have to mean disregarding those who are already there.
All of
these characterizations are well done, and it's magical to watch as
iconic images from the book find their way to the big screen with deeper
layers of context. What's more, the savagery of Maurice's vision is
thoroughly intact. However, therein lies the trouble. This is an
excellently done film. But the anger coursing through it is sometimes
alarming, and the sense of despair it produces is hard to shake off. In
particular, Max's teacher enthusiastically describes the eventual death
of the sun, and as someone who spent many an evening freaking out over a
bloated orange sun on the cusp of setting, half-convinced it was about
to explode, I can thoroughly appreciate the terror this produces in Max.
He revisits this tutorial in a later scene with Carol that is set in
the desert and is so desolate I half-expected Dust in the Wind to start playing in the background. I was forcefully reminded of the disturbing planetarium scene in Rebel Without a Cause,
which I happened to be watching in a culture studies class as the
events of 9-11 unfolded. Despite the undercurrent of affection among Max
and his newfound subjects, most warmly indicated in a scene in which
they all sleep together in one big pile, I couldn't shake the
overpowering sensations of chaos and nihilism.
Jonze clearly
had a vision for this movie, and I suspect he achieved just the tone he
was seeking, and one of which Sendak approves. Nonetheless, I would
hesitate to recommend the movie for young or especially sensitive
children. I'm not a crier, and I didn't have dry eyes for most of the
movie. Obviously it's an effective film if it can provoke such a strong
reaction. Just be warned that if you leap into this wild rumpus, it may
be a while before you can extricate yourself.
No comments:
Post a Comment