Where The Wild Things Are

“Inside each of us, there is a wild thing.” So says the trailer for last week’s release of Where the Wild Things Are. The trailer also claims that the film comes from one of the most beloved children’s books of all time. The second statement is true because the book proves the first statement. Maurice Sendack’s world of wild things is the place that every child who falls asleep in a four-walled bedroom and every adult who falls asleep in a four-walled cubicle hopes to dream about. However, the film attempts to bring the world of the wild things back to a reality that tends to kill the magic more than it ignites it.

The film follows nine-year-old Max (relative newcomer Max Records) as he attempts to make sense of the world around him. His father is gone, his mother is with another man, he’s not allowed to break things or bite people the way he wants to, and, on top of it all, his teacher has just cheerfully informed him that the sun is dying. This seems like the perfect time to run away from home and straight into a group of giant creatures that completely understand the desire to break and bite everything- just try not to eat each other, or break too much.

Visually, the film works. The creatures are slightly goofy looking, but for a children’s movie, it’s both forgivable and lovable. The landscape of the wild things’ homeland is a beautifully peaceful forest and shore that would make anyone want to run away to join the creatures, bad tempers and appetites and all. Records is wonderful as Max, acting very much like a nine-year-old kid when the role calls for angry or adventurous yelling and ranting while maintaining sweet and serious innocence in his quieter moments.

However, the film fails when it tries to go outside of what the book called for. It is nearly impossible to make a decent film based on a twenty-page picture book. Almost anything else would be a preferable medium. Maybe a television series or web comic about Max and the creatures. Maybe some recording artist could create an album with songs about each individual wild thing and dress in Max’s creature suit and golden crown at concerts. Even a short play could work better than a full-length film based on the book. The film feels long when there is no plot, and what little plot there is tends to fall flat.

Why would the audience want to watch a failing love story between two of the creatures? It’s supposed to be a parallel to what Max’s parents have gone through with their divorce, but all it does is remind the audience why they want to escape into the world of the wild things. Sendack’s book took one image and made it last. The film takes the same image and makes it long and pointless.

The film might insight imagination in adults and children, but really, audiences would be better off reading a book or creating a world like this for themselves, alone in their rooms, allowing the trees to grow and the wild things to appear as Max does every time they turn the page. Grade: B-