Where the Wild Things Are

Where the Wild Things Are resembles the sort of trendy toy that is bought more for the parent than the child. I'm thinking of the beautifully crafted toy boxes with tasteful red soldiers that kids just ignore: its what's inside that counts. This is definitely a kid's film made for adults. Its not fun, there's not many laughs, but it is a great representation of the loneliness of childhood. I remember Maurice Sendak's book as if it was a dream, (it was my mum that reminded me I actually had it), and it had a deep effect on me as an introverted boy. Spike Jonze's film is a sad, nostalgic, piece that had me reflecting on the lonely moments of early youth. 


However, when the film focuses on the injustice of childhood (no food for misbehaving) it can't help but reflect Truffuat's The 500 Blows, the definitive cinematic statement on the subject. All that Where the Wild Things Are adds to it is that injustices can happen to advantaged American boys as well as French disadvantaged boys. Whatever else it tries to reveal just comes off like a bad episode of Big Brother; all character flaws and joylessness from the protagonists. The Wild Things come to represent psychological conditions, and all but happiness is included. I think its because of this that I found the film so disappointing. Max's world is full of darkness and the kind of aggression that is unique to young boys, but with Jonze, it also has the seriousness unique to pretentious young men. He steadfastly keeps to his own hand held sun set look, rather than succumb to a more typical kids film style, and for that it has to be congratulated as a brave film. Otherwise, it came up frustratingly lacking the substance which would have made it a classic.