I saw Where the Wild Things Are today. I absolutely loved it. It was a beautiful arrow shot right into my heart.
As different as it is from the book (which I’ve always loved), it really does capture the spirit and essence of the book. But more than that, it captured the essence of my childhood. I wasn’t like Max all that much, behavior-wise–I was about as far from a “wild thing” as you can get. But I was a lot like Max in terms of sadness, loneliness, hope and imagination. In many ways, I felt like I was watching a movie about me. Not that my childhood was bad, just that there’s a lot more sadness and loneliness and wishing for better worlds than most TV shows and movies choose to really explore.
Like childhood, Where the Wild Things Are is both really simply and really complex, with lots of simple problems and very few simple solutions. It’s gorgeous and gritty and cluttered and goofy and sad. I think it’s a brilliant film. Also, anyone who says it’s not for kids is not giving children the credit they deserve.