About kids, not for kids: Great movie, but not a wild rumpus

'Where the Wild Things Are'

Warner Bros. Pictures

1 hour, 41 minutes

At the opening credits rolled on this week's avant garde kid-lit adaptation, "Where the Wild Things Are," I could feel a palpable excitement in the audience. The theatre was packed with parents and kids of all ages, from middle school on down to tiny babies. The logos for Warner Brothers and the other participating studios appear on screen covered in playful scrawls and doodles, and the title lettering comes up in a friendly, wavering kid-script. This looks for all the world to be a cute, if well-made movie for children, on that celebrates the innate wildness and anarchy in every young heart, but tempers it with the warm, safe feeling of security embodied in a family with boundaries. That is, after all, what the book by Maurice Sendak seems to be about.

But as the action starts and time passes slowly by, it becomes more and more apparent that this is not the movie it appears to be. Twenty minutes in, the mood of the younger audience members is mostly that of confusion. Half-way through and that mood has turned to either sleepiness, boredom, or, at worst, outright rebellion.

There were no actual "wild things" in the audience where I saw the movie, but it wouldn't surprise me if in some places that mood turned hostile. At times I couldn't even hear the characters speaking on screen because of a low murmuring grumble from kids bored out of their minds. They had every right to be unhappy, as they were tricked into attending a movie that is, in fact, not for kids, but is rather about kids.

The previous lengthy critique on behalf of my younger moviegoing fellows notwithstanding, "Where the Wild Things Are" is a remarkable film. It's not particularly enjoyable, but it is brilliantly created. Spike Jonze, who also brought us "Being John Malkovich" and "Adaptation," has taken the simplest of children's stories and, without adding a bunch of extraneous detail, crafted an achingly sad and lonely look inside the mind of a troubled kid.

Max, played beautifully by newcomer Max Records, is a boy who, like many his age, has trouble dealing with the tumultuous emotions inside. His father is gone. We aren't told where or how. After all, for a boy Max's age, the whys aren't important. Dad's just not there. Mom works hard to support Max and his older sister, and as a result isn't able to spend the time she needs to help him through his issues. She's not neglectful, just overworked, and sad herself.

Max's wild behavior is obviously a bid for attention and, with no friends around to take the pressure off, all the wildness gets funneled onto Mom. Things finally come to a head when Max, cloaked in his trusty wolf costume, makes a huge scene in front of his mother's date, and in the ensuing melee, bites her on the shoulder.

Max, horrified both at what he's done and at the trouble he's in runs out the door, down the street, and into his imagination. He hops a boat and sails out to sea, braving stormy weather and broiling doldrums until finally he sees an island in the distance. Beaching his boat, he climbs the hill and observes a bizarre sight. Monsters, sitting around a campfire watch glumly as one of their number, Carol, voiced by James Gandolfini, smashes their small stick shelters to bits. Carol, it seems, is angry and sad because another monster, K.W., has decided to go away and make new friends. The remaining creatures seem embarrassed by Carol's outburst, and at a loss as to whether they should join in the destruction or sit and cry. Max recognizes a kindred spirit and rushes in to join the destruction. He declares himself a king with terrible powers and the wild things accept him as one of their own. Max, it is decided by Carol, will make everything better. K.W. will come back, everyone will be friends, and nothing will change.

If only it were that simple.

Though Jonze doesn't change the basic plot of the story, what has been added is here on the island with the wild things. These creatures, with personalities and soft, normal voices that fail to match their outward appearance, each represent an aspect of Max's psyche. But, true to the complicated nature of both life and Spike Jonze's films, it's not a simple as matching an emotion to a monster. At times they each represent his angry feelings, his feelings of loss, and his aching need for acceptance and friendship. At others they become his expectations, both positive and negative, of others. The wild things are Max, and there is a jumbled confusion to them and their behavior that fits perfectly.

There is much to appreciate in this film, from the monsters' amazingly subtle and heartfelt performances to the stark and arresting landscape of the wild things' island. But most impressive are the effects in which giant puppets -- muppets, really, enhanced in small ways with computer generated imagery, are able to express such clear and palpable emotions. This isn't "Labyrinth" or "The Dark Crystal" or any other number of the more "serious" muppet films. These are real performances by very real characters. That they look somewhat like people in suits is appropriate considering both the costume Max wears and the fact that no one ever suggests that this is supposed to be really happening. What we are seeing is Max's psyche, working out his issues and gaining the courage to go home.

The film is, though incredibly well made, not a lot of fun. It's very sad, and even though Max does get his dinner at the end, still warm, as written by Sendak, you won't help but leave the theater in a state of melancholy. There's nothing inherently wrong with this, unless you're 9 years old and just wanted to see a bunch of big goofy monsters in a wild rumpus. In that case, I'd stick with the book.

Grade: A-

"Where the Wild Things Are" is rated PG for adult themes, frightening images and some mild violence.

Chris Jenness is a freelance graphic designer, artist and movie buff who lives in Nikiski.