I was worried about Where The Wild Things Are. I thought it might be ill with a terrible, often fatal disease. This disease has many names, but I call it “Perfect Trailer Syndrome”. It’s an unfortunate sickness that befalls the efforts of many a filmmaker, where a short version of their film, lasting a couple of minutes and usually set to an amazing soundtrack, so totally encapsulates the feeling of their creation that when audiences finally see the full result, there are few surprises and even fewer positive reviews. The Watchmen is a great example. As one noted expert in the field (my brother) said, “If the whole movie had just been four-second action clips set to Smashing Pumpkins songs, it would have been a great film.” Spike Jonze’s latest offering, Where The Wild Things Are, seemed like another prime candidate for Perfect Trailer Syndrome. When that two-minute, Arcade Fire-backed clip exploded all over YouTube earlier this year, it became an immediate sensation thanks to its whimsical feel and outstanding visuals. But at the back of everyone’s mind was the question: can the hundred-minute film deliver anything more?
The answer is yes – just.
The long-awaited adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s kiddie classic is visually glorious, emotive and generally a viewing pleasure. It’s not a complicated story: youngster Max is confused by the world around him, escapes to a strange land populated by oddball creatures, does some awesome stuff, does some not-so-awesome stuff, gets bored, and comes home to Mum. It doesn’t exactly sound enthralling on paper (or on a computer screen) but on film, well, golly. It looks incredible and, without banging on about it too much, is a testament to what can be achieved when a director invests as much time in costuming, practical effects and location scouting as they do in the new-fangled computer trickery. If more directors took Jonze’s lead, we would no doubt be watching many more films that are genuinely visually engaging, instead of just golden calves symbolising how many CGI soldiers, waves and explosions money can buy. Max Records is well cast and suitably adorable in his little costume. The soundtrack is indie-licious, and the film is beautifully lit.
However, the most interesting aspects of the film are the Wild Things themselves, and not just because they are an amazing accomplishment from a technical perspective. Sure, they are an almost perfect example of the practical and the computer-generated joining forces, and the realistic feel of them goes a long way to giving the film legs. But it’s the Wild Things as characters that really grab hold of the audience’s attention. The fraught romances, the hopelessness, the desperation to break out of the cycle they’re stuck in – the Wild Things are tragic figures, clinging to Max’s coat-tails until he wearies of them and jumps ship (literally) back to the human world. There’s no resolution for them; they are left saddened while their friend returns home to have his cake (and eat it, too).
Of course, there’s a strong argument for the Wild Things not needing any resolution. They are the creations of Max’s mind, and a nine-year-old kid isn’t exactly under an obligation to provide his imaginary friends with a satisfying emotional conclusion. However, it is possible that Jonze is under such an obligation to the viewers, and he doesn’t quite come through for his audience here. The film, which travels at a pace one could kindly describe as meandering, does seem to rush through its finale, and one can’t help but feel that if Jonze was prepared to put so much effort into creating this host of interesting, three-dimensional characters, he could have given them a better farewell than rushing them out of frame in the final minutes.
Do the Wild Things learn anything from Max, and vice versa? In the end, it appears the answer may well be, “No.” Even though that seems like a negative comment, the truth is that this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The difficulty with this film is that it is wonderful to watch, but doesn’t bear much scrutiny. It needs to be viewed as a child views the world: impulsively, emotionally and completely. This film will immerse you in its landscape and make you feel like a child again, if you let it. For a hundred minutes, you will receive the rare gift of feeling like you could create an entire world just because you willed it, and it is amazing. However, when the credits roll and you stand up and walk out, blinking in the light, the cracks begin to show if you analyse it too much.
Arcade Fire warned us in the trailer – when we grow up, our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up. Watch this film with the heart of a nine-year-old, surrender yourself to the memory of being a kid, and get lost in this wonderful, wild world.
That was an amazing review! I can’t wait to see it and then maybe argue with you, or passively agree because it was such a good article!
Spot on review. The best thing about this film was that it was so fully realised that the whole effect of the film on the viewer is greater than any one part. It seemed like nothing special story-wise, but you’re left with a heavy, longing heart and like you’ve just reached out and held the hand of your nine-year-old self and told them that everything will be okay – but then you get sucked back through the time portal as the credits roll and back to adult responsibility.
I liked that the Max can’t sort out the issues of the Wild Things. For me that was a very important part of the story because Max realises out he can’t figure out these emotions (The Wild Things) on his own, he needs the support of his family and in particular his Mother. If he had solved all of their issues, went back home and said sorry to his Mum it wouldn’t have felt genuine because a 9 year old wouldn’t figure that out by themselves.