Where the Wild Things Are Review

Quick show of hands: How many of you saw this movie because the trailer featured that rousing “Laa-laa” anthem by The Arcade Fire? Yeah, me too. The ads got to me with that song. They convinced me that I wanted to see this film about a self-destructive boy and his ginormous, wild teddy bears. But I was tricked.

There are 3 things you need to know about “Where the Wild Things Are:”

1. It’s not a kids movie. It might have been a kids book, and it might feature a kid and his imagined furry friends. But it’s too disturbing and deep for your average 15 year old.
2. It’s not “Wild.” There are segments that are “Energetic,” and even “Peppy.” And there is one scene with dirt clauds that could be called “Moderately out of control.” But “Wild”? No.
3. The film doe NOT feature the classic song “Wild Thing” by “The Troggs.” You have every right to expect the director could have found a place for it. There were so many opportunities, and he missed them all. He didn’t get Tone Loc’s classic diddy in, either, but that is more understandable, I suppose, considering the subject matter.

Here is what we are left with: Max is a disturbed boy in a wolf costume who gets so depressed he bites his mom in front of her boyfriend, and runs away to an imaginary island where he can sort out his own issues. The island is populated by a tribe of Babylonian god-like Orcs who can’t seem to get along. Chief among the Orcs is Carol, a chubby fur ball voiced by James Gandolfini. Carol has all the predictable anger issues that come with having a girl’s name. (“Boy named Sue,” anyone?)

When Max arrives, Carol is doing what he does best: throwing a massive tantrum and breaking things. Max befriends Carol and joins the fun until the other Orcs threaten to eat the intruder. To save his own skin, Max lamely informs them that they can’t eat him because he is their king. (Give him a break. He’s only nine.) They buy it, but only because they are figments of his imagination.

Max, now a petty despot, forces the Orcs to throw dirt at one another, sleep in unsanitary, uncomfortable “real piles” (as opposed to fake mounds), and build elaborate forts in his own honor. They oblige him for a few days, until they smell corruption in his leadership–an understandable mistake, as the sweaty wolf-boy refuses to bathe himself.

The whole society finally falls apart when it becomes apparent that Max is, in fact, not a king after all. Upon hearing the news, Carol goes on one last terrific rampage, forcing Max to run for his life and hide in the stomach of Carol’s would-be girlfriend K.W. (It sounds disgusting, but it looked plenty comfortable to me.) There, inside the belly of the beast, Max listens to Carol’s mindless rage through the ears of the patient KW. And for the first time, he hears his own destructiveness through the ears of his mother.

Deep, isn’t it? Some might even say “compelling,” but I can’t go that far. To me, this is an ideal film for freshmen psychology classes, and for 10 pm film club meetings around the back table at the Borders Cafe. If I were around said table, my two cents would look something like this:

Me: “I don’t buy it. If Max is half as screwed up as he seems to be in the beginning of the film, there is no way he can go deep into his own imagination to heal himself.”
You: “A healthy imagination is a good thing.”
Me: “Did you see this kid’s imagination? Not. Healthy.”

{Coffee Sip Pause while my words sink in.}

Me: “I think he needs to make friends with the Backyardigans. Their imaginations are wholesome and musical.”
You: “So you’re saying he needs Less Rumpus and More Mambo.”
Me: (Smiling wickedly at your quick wit.) “Exactly.”

Less rumpus and more mambo. That is my simple prescription. If the rumpus had been more wild, it would have been allowed to stay, and the mambo would not have been needed.

The Kids

Younger kids have a 35% chance of liking this film. The remaining 65% will either be bored to tears of be rehearsing tonight’s night terrors. It’s not the violence or even the costumes. It’s more the dark tone. The boy’s life is just disconcerting all the way around. For this reason, your Drama Tweens and Teens will not fully understand it, but they will still cry, because that’s what they do

The Verdict: Mostly Harmless

For our purposes, I can say this: “Where the Wild Things Are” is at least not annoying. You might hate the movie for being dull, or deride it for being stupid. But it’s not a “G-Force” level irritant. The visuals are interesting, and the music is beautiful and subtle. So rest assured, while your sanity will remain in check. No, you probably won’t rush off to buy the BlueRay edition, but neither will you place a call to Dr. Kevorkian, hoping to end it all.

Choose Your Own Caption!

Spike Jonze commissioned a handful of costumes to be worn at the movie’s premier, including these full body wolf suits which match Max’s in the movie. But he was nine… Anyway, we need a caption! Put yours below in the comments.