Where The Wild Things Are

First up, parents, be advised that this is not really a film for children. Yes, it's film based on a children's book; yes, it's a film about childhood – but those hoping for a fun-lovin' romp through the kooky world of Max and his zany monster pals are likely to be disappointed.
 
Given that the original story is about 300 words long, it's been padded out considerably via a script written by director Spike Jonze and writer Dave (A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius) Eggers. That's why the film isn't 12 minutes long, and it's also why people are going to divide broadly into two groups: people who find the film's ruminations on the mindset of a child and the violent emotions of youth at best fascinating and at least original, and terrified children for whom 'being-swallowed-by-a-giant-muppet' is now part of the language of their nightmares.

The structure is much as you'd expect: the troublesome Max is sent to bed without dinner, runs away to the land of the titular Things, where he declares himself their king... but where the book ended with Max leading the wild rumpus and heading back home, Max is faced with the rather trickier job of maintaining his post-rumpus position with a series of large, emotional creatures that could crush him with their enthusiasm – or, for that matter, decide to eat him. Those are the moments that are going to terrify today's pre-teens, incidentally: the film is filled with claustrophobic scenes (such as Max in his igloo, or in a pile of Wild Things) and much of the story is set in a foreboding forest filled with eucalyptus trees, as befits a film shot in Melbourne.

The look of the movie is perfect: a strange, autumnal twilight with muted tones and deep shadows. And while the central character of Max is played to ADD-perfection by newcomer Max Records, the best performances are by the CG artists and puppeteers who give the Wild Things their life: the voice performances by James Gandolfini (the feisty Carol), Catherine O'Hara (the snarky Judith) and Lauren Ambrose (KW, the emotional centre of the Things) are superb, but it's the performers in the Henson Creature Shop-designed suits, and the programmers doing the astonishingly nuanced facial animations, that bring Maurice Sendak's illustrations to life. Similarly, the music – by Yeah Yeah Yeahs frontwoman Karen O – is as grotty and unpredictable as the creatures on the screen.

All that being said, there is a sense of "...so, why was this made, exactly?" Kids will find it slow moving and/or terrifying, and adults may cringe at the ending (although it's handled with a deftness rare in films these days). What's most interesting, though, is that it's not alone: it precedes Wes Anderson's Fantastic Mr Fox and Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland as an oblique, highly personal re-evaluation of a childhood story by a fascinatingly idiosyncratic director. What that says about the culture is hard to say, but it'll make for unusually interesting times at the multiplex.