Ahhh, childhood. That simultaneously confusing and illuminating time when nothing seemed to go our way, and yet the mysteries of the world finally began to make sense. I was a certified Good Girl growing up (hence my propensity for naughtiness the older I get!) and there wasn’t much that truly provoked me to act out in defiance. That’s not to say that I was so even-keeled that my deepest emotions were never “inflamed”. After all, I grew up in the ’80s. And in the ’80s, there was Bowie.
Oh, David Bowie has had his influence in several other decades, but none quite had the impact of his turn as Jareth the Goblin King in Labyrinth. The accent! The singing! The undeniably prominent bulge in his spandex pants that had my cherubic cheeks turning as strawberry-colored as my hair! Jareth was my secret boyfriend – the ultimate “bad boy” – and the movie as a whole was at times strange, nonsensical, brilliant, hilarious, and thoughtful. While other kids graduated to the oeuvre of Disney animated films, I held stubbornly to my assertion that Labyrinth was one of the true classics, and couldn’t possibly be matched.
Then Where the Wild Things Are came along, 20+ years after the fact. And while it’s nowhere near Labyrinth on the Awesomesauce Meter, WTWTA does give the former a run for its money in terms of fantasy, oddity, and the poetic interpretation of growing up.
With that said, I’m not altogether certain I actually enjoyed Where the Wild Things Are. In fact, I had to ask Spoony for help translating the film’s message and metaphors, and I appreciated it more after I had a better understanding of what the original story had been about. In a nutshell, WTWTA is a spare picture book by Maurice Sendak, written in the 1960’s and adapted into various forms over the years. At its core, the book is about how the hero, a boy named Max, begins to learn about conquering his emotions and bridging the gap between being a wild and carefree boy, and being accountable for his actions. If it sounds ripe for the Disney/Pixar treatment, you might be surprised.
Spike Jonze (whom I’m was most familiar with as a music video director – remember those?) turned the sparse, 10 sentence book into a screenplay with Dave Eggers, and the combination of his adaptation and directing is a film that’s quirky, curious, visually appealing, but still lacking in a way that suggests that such short works of fiction really aren’t meant for the full-length film treatment. After watching it, the song “Nothing Much Happens” by Ben Lee kept playing in my mind: “a lot goes on, but nothing happens.”
While others thrive on their ability to dissect specific scenes or pick out little nuances, I’m an “experience the movie as a whole” kind of person. So as an experience, WTWTA was interesting but failed to capture me as a viewer. I think perhaps I was hoping that the little girl who thrilled to the Goblins and Fraggles as a child would be captivated by the film, but all I could think was “this isn’t a kid’s movie” and “something is missing”.
That something, however, certainly did not rest on the shoulders of the actors. Max Records, who karmically shares his first name with hero of the story, is luminous. With next to no acting experience prior to WTWTA, he carries the film extraordinarily well and there’s not a hint of hesitation in his dedication to the character. The actors supplying the voices of the Wild Things (most notably James Gandolfini as “Carol”) did a respectable job – although I think the vast majority of the praise for the Wild Things should go to the wizards at Jim Henson’s Creature Shop who created the extraordinary animatronics. In fact, the distinct lack of CGI and special effects are what saved this movie from cheesy, over-produced banality, in my opinion. There’s been some criticism of Jonze’s “shaky cam” style, but I liked that it gave the film more realism. I was also in favor of the very quirky soundtrack, written and performed by Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, which definitely lent itself to the art house vibe that I think Jonze was hoping to capture. WTWTA is a juxtaposition between a Hollywood budget-buster and those sentimental indies that play for two week engagements at the local art theatre. I’m not sure if it succeeds in the crack, but it’s got style. So what doesn’t it have?
‘Nuff said. ;-)
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