Where the Wild Things Are
I watched Where the Wild Things Are last night. It was very good. Twelve hours later, and I'm still an emotional wreck: if some films strike a nerve then this one grabbed my brain stem and punched it for an hour and a half. Traumatic film is traumatic.
Spoilers & emo behind cut:
I remember two bedtime stories from when I was a kid: Dad once told me the story of Lord of the Rings, and my mum used to read Where the Wild Things are to me. You can understand why it's important to me. I saw the ads and was like "Oooh, wow! I can go relive some of my childhood and get fuzzy-wuzzies;" there is nothing but comfort in remembering the book for me. That's not what I got though.
The basic plot of the book goes thus: "Max is wild. He's sent to his room without dinner for being too wild. He sails away to a far away land with monsters, whose king he becomes. Then he gets lonely and goes home. His dinner is waiting when he gets back." The movie follows this broadly, but obviously has more twists and turns. The early part of the movie shows us Max's life beyond the island of the Wild Things, which I found really uncomfortable: he's the child of a single mother, and copes with the lack of a father (or any real friends) by making use of his overactive imagination, until one day he runs away. I spent the first half-hour or so on the verge of panic, wanting to flee the cinema and throw up - not because it was bad, but because it was so spot-on. It's intense and uncomfortable and perfectly captures the way a child reacts to pain and anguish and incomprehension.
Of course, that means that Max's adventure to the land of the Wild Things takes on a whole new meaning: in the film, he RUNS AWAY, and in an attempt to flee his painful home-life, escapes to his fantasy land. The Wild Things inevitably become a reflection of Max's mental state, and his family life. Again, it's spot-on.
Unnervingly, the film has an underlying sinister edge to it - the very first sequence has Max playing with a dog roughly enough that the dog is subbed out for a puppet... the dog is never seen again. I found myself wincing through much of the movie because so much of the play is incredibly dangerous and violent: just on the border between fun and hateful, exactly the way kids really are.
That's the issue - it's not glamourised, toned down, modified in any way - it's a real child, having real-child feelings, doing real-child things. There's no perspective or explanation or rationalisation, because a child wouldn't understand: you're forced to fill in the gaps yourself and the gaps are all pain and confusion. Of course, I got feedback. I'm still tearing up every time I muse on the last few words of the book: "and it was still warm." Those five words manage to capture and convey so much, while the ending of the movie is just as abrupt and nowhere near powerful enough to wrap up the pain of confusion and loss: Max comes back to his home no wiser, no more settled than before. It's hollow, and I feel that I've lost something for that.
So out of this, it's incredibly confronting, which is good normally, but I can't help but feel like someone's gone through my childhood, found every instance of being really warm and comfortable inside, and swapped them out for pain, confusion and anger.
That said, it's a powerful, beautiful film and absolutely worth watching. Confused? Me too.
Spoilers & emo behind cut:
I remember two bedtime stories from when I was a kid: Dad once told me the story of Lord of the Rings, and my mum used to read Where the Wild Things are to me. You can understand why it's important to me. I saw the ads and was like "Oooh, wow! I can go relive some of my childhood and get fuzzy-wuzzies;" there is nothing but comfort in remembering the book for me. That's not what I got though.
The basic plot of the book goes thus: "Max is wild. He's sent to his room without dinner for being too wild. He sails away to a far away land with monsters, whose king he becomes. Then he gets lonely and goes home. His dinner is waiting when he gets back." The movie follows this broadly, but obviously has more twists and turns. The early part of the movie shows us Max's life beyond the island of the Wild Things, which I found really uncomfortable: he's the child of a single mother, and copes with the lack of a father (or any real friends) by making use of his overactive imagination, until one day he runs away. I spent the first half-hour or so on the verge of panic, wanting to flee the cinema and throw up - not because it was bad, but because it was so spot-on. It's intense and uncomfortable and perfectly captures the way a child reacts to pain and anguish and incomprehension.
Of course, that means that Max's adventure to the land of the Wild Things takes on a whole new meaning: in the film, he RUNS AWAY, and in an attempt to flee his painful home-life, escapes to his fantasy land. The Wild Things inevitably become a reflection of Max's mental state, and his family life. Again, it's spot-on.
Unnervingly, the film has an underlying sinister edge to it - the very first sequence has Max playing with a dog roughly enough that the dog is subbed out for a puppet... the dog is never seen again. I found myself wincing through much of the movie because so much of the play is incredibly dangerous and violent: just on the border between fun and hateful, exactly the way kids really are.
That's the issue - it's not glamourised, toned down, modified in any way - it's a real child, having real-child feelings, doing real-child things. There's no perspective or explanation or rationalisation, because a child wouldn't understand: you're forced to fill in the gaps yourself and the gaps are all pain and confusion. Of course, I got feedback. I'm still tearing up every time I muse on the last few words of the book: "and it was still warm." Those five words manage to capture and convey so much, while the ending of the movie is just as abrupt and nowhere near powerful enough to wrap up the pain of confusion and loss: Max comes back to his home no wiser, no more settled than before. It's hollow, and I feel that I've lost something for that.
So out of this, it's incredibly confronting, which is good normally, but I can't help but feel like someone's gone through my childhood, found every instance of being really warm and comfortable inside, and swapped them out for pain, confusion and anger.
That said, it's a powerful, beautiful film and absolutely worth watching. Confused? Me too.