It's can be tough, watching a movie based upon a book that you love. There is no filmmaker alive who can make a better film than what you imagined when you were reading it. So that certainly raises the bar for Spike Jonze's new adaptation of Maurice Sendak's "Where the Wild Things Are," the children's book that is beloved of, literally, millions of people.
So with that said, we should get something straight. "Where the Wild Things Are" is not your movie of that book. It's Spike Jonze's. It is his interpretation, not yours. And you have to decide if you're cool with that. Because if you're not, if you go into that theater expecting to see precisely what you remember being both thrilled by and terrified by as a child, well, you're going to be disappointed. But if you're willing to give yourself over to someone else's vision, you will do well. There's plenty in "Wild Things" that is both beautiful and touching—it's just that its main theme is actually different from the book, even though every part of the film has its roots within those pages. It's just different. Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing is up to you.
You probably remember the basics. Max (in this case, a kid called Max Records) makes mischief one night and is sent to his room without supper. Well, until now, we've never known what mischief Max has gotten himself into. The short version of this is that he's lonely, his older sister is ignoring him, and his single mother (Catherine Keener) is trying to make time for her new boyfriend (Mark Ruffalo). So Max acts out, and when his mother calls him on it, he runs away. No, there's no forest that grows in his room, but he does find a boat and sails to the place where, well, the Wild Things Are.
Every Wild Thing is straight out of Sendak's book, but here, each of them have distinct personalities, living in a small society of chaos and unhappiness. You see, even though they're considerably bigger than Max, each Wild Thing is childlike, which means they can be generous, mean, self-pitying, loving, and lonely. It isn't long before they make Max their king, forcing a subtle role reversal on him—instead of taking orders from creatures bigger than him, he's now giving the orders.
Carol (James Gandolfini) takes a quick liking to him, hoping to replace K.W. (Lauren Ambrose), his friend who has been busy making other friends, something that wounds Carol no end. Gandolfini gives a lovely performance, turning Carol with a man-child, man-monster who is still trying to sort out his own emotional life. You see, unlike the book, the movie of "Where the Wild Things Are" is about children learning to understand their emotions, and more importantly, the impact their emotions can have on others. What Max takes away from his adventures is the fact that even though his mother isn't perfect, he's so lucky to have her, because what these Wild Things truly need is someone who is not just in charge, but who is able to keep these creatures safe, both physically and emotionally. And while that's not something a boy can do, it is something a boy can learn that he can't do. That's essentially the message of "Where the Wild Things Are," and the major change between it and the print edition. In the book, Max comes home to be taken care of by his parents. In the movie, Max realizes that perhaps he needs to take care of his mother just a little. It may not sound like much, but there's a huge difference there. It's not a difference that's necessarily bad or good—it's just where the two separate. And whether or not that makes a difference to you is as individual a decision as is your relationship to the book.