Beautiful But Despairing, Spike Jonze's Where the Wild Things Are Revels in Primal Ferocity

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.

Surviving Christmas Not as Difficult as Suspected

The night my brother Nathan came home for Christmas break, Surviving Christmas was on TV. I suggested we watch it; he countered with "Ben Affleck!" And as the "guest," he won the argument, but I slipped the much-maligned flick into my Netflix queue anyway, and Mom and I watched it when he wasn't looking. And you know, I actually enjoyed it.

Affleck stars as Drew Latham, a hot-shot young ad exec whose girlfriend Missy (Jennifer Morrison) recoils when he suggests they flee to Fiji for Christmas. Her disdainful response to his apparent fear of family togetherness leads him to seek out the advice of her shrink, who implants the idea of going to his childhood home, writing a list of grievances and burning it in a gesture of forgiveness. Drew likes the idea, and he's tickled to go back home and clean his slate, but complications arise when Tom Valco (James Gandolfini), current head of the household, sees him loitering outside and knocks him out with a shovel. Yes, this family is just bursting with the Christmas spirit.

Despite the chilly reception, after being brought inside, Drew desperately wants to stay in his childhood home for Christmas. And while Tom thinks the visitor is a lunatic, he is willing to put up with him for a few days for a tidy sum of $250,000. Sounds good to me! Along with gruff, cranky but lovable Tom, we meet his burnt-out wife Christine (Catherine O'Hara), surly teenage son Brian (Josh Zuckerman) and, a little later, snarky daughter Alicia (Christina Applegate), home for the holidays. Throw in a local actor as Doo-Dah (Bill Macy), Drew's grandpa, and they've got a full house. Especially when Missy, in the mood for reconciliation, shows up with her parents for Christmas Eve dinner.

With its PG-13 rating, Surviving Christmas is occasionally crude but generally tamer than I expected. While Drew is considerably more obnoxious than Buddy, the endearing protagonist in Elf, he has a similarly youthful outlook on the world, and he goes about most of the movie with a goofy grin on his face. For the most part, I found him sympathetic. House's Morrison looks elegant as high-class Missy, but there's something very phony about her performance. In fact, I found all of the women in the movie rather grating, especially O'Hara, who got on my nerves in the Home Alone movies as well. I don't know if it's Applegate or Alicia who's trying too hard to be aggressive, but I think she overdoes it a bit, especially in the scene after Drew makes a grand gesture in an attempt to win her over.

Gandolfini, on the other hand, is delightful and makes Tom easily my favorite character in the film. He's grouchy and grinchy, but he clearly cares for his family, and when he smiles, he's radiant. Both intimidating and charming, he is both lovable and hilarious. I also got a chuckle out of both the original Doo-Dah and his replacement (Sy Richardson of Pushing Daisies) and Missy's henpecked dad, Horace (David Selby).

I love the look of the movie, with its excessive explosion of Christmas cheer that starts with the opening sequence, which shows December in all its festive and frustrating glory while It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year plays in the background. There are plenty of other Christmas songs on the soundtrack, and Affleck and Gandolfini get a nifty little duet on O Christmas Tree. All the traditional secular elements of Christmas pop up, from Christmas cookies and gifts in shiny paper to a garishly bright Christmas tree and a community theatre performance of A Christmas Carol. There's even a hint or two of the sacred, as when Drew insists they all join hands and say grace before dinner.

On the down side, there are, as Missy's uppity mother (Stephanie Faracy) puts it, "various incestuous overtones," and though we know they're not legitimate because those making advances on each other are not actually related, it still feels a tad uncomfortable at times. And I really could have done without all of Brian's smutty web-surfing. The direction of the plot couldn't be more obvious; we know Drew and the Valcos are going to wind up one big happy family by the end and that although he and Alicia initially loathe each other, they'll soon be locking lips. It's just the way these things go. And there are aspects of the story that don't make a lot of sense, like when Drew admits he was raised by a single mother who had to work double shifts at the diner to make ends meet. The Valcos' house may not be a mansion, but it looks way too rich for a struggling waitress's blood.

Still, I liked it. It's certainly not one of those Christmas classics that must be watched year after year, but most of the time it made me smile. Keep your expectations modest, and you should have no problem surviving Surviving Christmas.