Review by Screenjabber
Stars Max Records, Catherine Keener, Mark Ruffalo. Plus the voices of James Gandolfini, Paul Dano,
Forrest Whitaker, Catherine O’Hara, Chris Cooper, Lauren Ambrose | Written by Spike Jonze & Dave Eggers
UK certification PG | UK RRP £22.99 | DVD Region 2 | Runtime 101 minutes | Directed by Spike Jonze
Director Spike Jonze has taken the novel approach of redefining the phrase “kids' film”, and this is an important key to one’s appreciation of Where The Wild things Are. Normally those two words together conjur simplistic, garish entertainment – cartoon zebras, pratfalls, product placement, logos printed on lunchboxes, and so on. Where The Wild Things Are is not that sort of a kids' film.
Taking its inspiration from the popular children’s picture book, Jonze’s film expands those illustrations into a surreal universe created in a child’s mind. Freed from the constraints of adult logic, the film flits from laughter to despair, from playing in the snow to fighting on a beach. Non-sequiturs and surreal flourishes aplenty, Max’s make believe island his playground – this time, the kids' film is one that forces an adult audience to regress to a state of blissful naivety.
It is somewhat inevitable that a two-hour film based on a 10-sentence book is light on plot, but it is admittedly adherent to the book – 9-year-old Max (Records) is sent to bed without his supper after shouting at his mother (Keener), wearing his best fancy dress wolf outfit, he runs away and finds himself in the company of the Wild Things. Jonze has given the scary monsters names and personalities- slowly it becomes evident that each represents a facet of Max’s psyche, be it argumentative, needy, insecure, or brash and inconsiderate. The Wild Things are psychologically complex individuals – their spats and arguments will probably be taken at face value by a younger audience, while adults will appreciate the depth and subtle nuances in the dialogue.
Shot in a fire-ravaged forest in Melbourne, the film is beautifully textured. Watching it, one can’t help but admire the attention to detail and craftsmanship on display, and that’s before we even talk about the eponymous beasts. The Wild Things are a genuine marvel of technical wizardry – the Jim Henson company constructed the life-sized creatures which were filmed in situ, but then their facial expressions and dialogue were augmented seamlessly in post production with CGI. They have genuine weight and a believable bulk as they are smashing up trees or play-fighting, but no subleties are lost in a tender moment. Can you imagine mediating a violent argument between Snufalufucus and Big Bird from Sesame Street over whose plans for fort building are better? Well, now you don’t have to, because this is as close as you will come.
Where The Wild Things Are is a love letter to a lost childhood, when things didn’t have to add up, where you could spend all day rolling in the mud and all night reading by torch-light in fortress made of bed sheets and cushions. It is heartening that in a time of reboots, remakes, franchises, and cash cows, a film as idiosyncratic and unique as this can still get a $70 million budget from a major studio. Those that enjoy this film will be sure to cherish the nonsensical adventures and will happily revisit it time and time again.
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SECOND OPINION | Neil Davey ? I have been known to, ahem, differ wildly from the majority of the reviewing world. However, even in the most extreme cases (the frankly pigging awful There Will Be Blood, for example) I can, to some extent, see why others would be singing their praises. Where The Wild Things Are though has left me utterly baffled. It's as bad a film as I've seen, well, ever. I'm only giving it one star because our scoring system doesn't go below that mark. It's overlong, out of focus and shot in fantastically nauseating shaky cam. Plot is abandoned for endless scenes of the Wild Things falling over or throwing things at each other. Records, as well as being too old to play the stroppy lead, is eminently slappable: I don't know much about the technicalities of filmmaking but, if you find yourself thinking you'd like the "star" to drown 20 minutes in so we can all go home, I'm guessing the problems are more than the something you can fix in the edit. The script is a mess. The film is not so much charm-free as in negative charm territory, sucking up the appeal of other films as well itself. I swear if you watched this back-to-back with It's A Wonderful Life, you'd be left thinking that George Bailey was a bit of a whinging bastard and not giving a monkey's about Zuzu's petals. The whole thing is scored with more jangly, navel-gazing, twee fucking acoustic wank than even Juno could muster. Having vowed at the turn of the century that I wouldn't walk out of a film, Where The Wild Things Are broke my ten year record, and I got my coat after 70 minutes. On the downside, I'm not proud of the fact. On the plus side, I did at least salvage 31 minutes of my life. I'd recommend you keep all 101 minutes of yours and do something more interesting and worthwhile. Like auditing your lentils. A colossal load of (furry) bollocks.
EXTRAS ★★★ We have a multi-pack here, which means that for your money you get three copies of the film – the Blu-ray, a DVD and a digital copy. That's pretty good value there for a start. Plus there are quite a few bonus featurettes: Higgelty Piggelty Pop, or There Must Be More To life – a new short based on the Sendak book, and featuring the voices of Meryl Streep and Forest Whitaker; HBO First Look, a behind-the-scenes look at the making of the film; and eight behind-the-scenes "webisodes" – The Absurd Difficulty of Filming a Dog Running and Barking at the Same Time, The Big Prank, Vampire Attack, The Kids Take Over the Picture, Maurice and Spike, Max and Spike, The Records Family, and Carter Burwell. All good stuff, but some deleted scenes and a commentary from director Jonze would have been nice.