Thursday, January 21, 2010

THE BEAUTY OF A CHILD'S EMOTIONAL LANDSCAPE: a review of "Where The Wild Things Are"

As I am composing my list of the Top 25 films of the decade and will subsequently make my list of my favorite films of 2009, here is a review of a film that has the honor of earning a spot on both lists.

This review was originally written October 18, 2009

“WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE” Directed by Spike Jonze
**** (four stars)

Years ago, I took a classroom of three and four year olds to see a live action theatrical presentation starring the illustrated children’s book characters from the “Franklin” series. It was, at times, an interminable sixty-minute production featuring all of the familiar characters romping around the stage in a plot stitched together from possibly five “Franklin” books and surrounded by a elaborately designed day-glow set and of course, this had to be a musical that featured 900 songs as well. The children ate it up entirely and even asked for seconds. Once we arrived back at school, I asked each child which part of the show was their most favorite. And here is where the children surprised me with their insight yet again. Most of the children expressed to me that their favorite among favorite moments in the entire show was a sequence where Franklin, abandoned by all of his friends and misunderstood again by his parents, sings a lament while seated on a small rock. Out of all of the manufactured joy on display, out of all of the life-sized animal figures springing happily about, out of all of the sights and sounds bombarding their every synapse, the favorite moment was one of sadness and feeling alone. What is it inside of children that made them instantly connect to that emotional state and even derive enjoyment and consolation from it? I had no answer and was even unsure as how to pursue it with them. So, I simply asked each child why they liked that part and none of them were really able to articulate their reasons other than, “it was my favorite.” That particular experience rushed to my brain as I sat through Director Spike Jonze’s brilliantly knowing and empathically wonderful film adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s classic children’s book, “Where The Wild Things Are.”

At the film’s opening we are introduced to Max (played with a refreshing purity by newcomer Max Records), a child of unannounced age but it obviously at the simultaneous dusk/dawn of childhood and early adolescence. His inherent feral-ness is evident immediately through his disruptions of the film’s opening studio credits and our first sight of him is his playful terrorization of the family dog. We next see him in a small snow bank across the street from his home building an igloo fort and it is through this simple act of play where the immediacy of Max’s everyday life comes into strong, cemented focus. He is ignored by his older sister, who is now spending time with her age group. His Father is absent. The anxiety of his increasing knowledge of the life cycle shown through his gloomy schooling as he sits in class listening to the doom sayings of his Science teacher. His Mother (the great Catherine Keener), though loving, is often preoccupied, alternately understanding, confused and angered by Max’s behavior and is now dating a new suitor (in a “blink-and-you’ll-miss-it” appearance by Mark Ruffalo). After an explosive confrontation between Mother and son, Max runs away from home, climbs aboard a boat, sails into stormy waters to find himself on an island populated by a collective of monsters currently embroiled in a heated, destructive conflict mostly orchestrated by the melancholy Carol (beautifully voiced by James Gandolfini). Through sheer creative force, Max rescues himself from surely being eaten by declaring himself their King and bellowing the now immortal line, “Let the wild rumpus start!”

What happens through the remainder of the film is not expressed by an actual plot. Narrative does not drive this film. In addition to recalling the inner/outer travels in Sean Penn’s “Into The Wild” and even the Mother/child conflicts of the John Hughes/Chris Columbus collaboration “Home Alone,” this film mostly reminded me of Sofia Coppola’s “Lost In Translation.” “Where The Wild Things Are” is a film about a feeling, or many feelings, as this is a parable dictated by the instantaneous mood swings experienced by all children. It felt like a travelogue through Max’s competing emotions as times of day, the weather, physical landscapes of deserts, the woods, and protective caves plus the well characterized Wild Things (voiced by Catherine O’Hara, Paul Dano, Forest Whitaker, Chris Cooper and Lauren Ambrose along with Gandolfini) all represent different aspects of Max’s emotional states. What made this inner epic stick firmly was the level of truth on display. Through dirt clod fights, massive fort building, campfire conversations and interpersonal conflicts, there was never a moment that felt fabricated, inauthentic or misrepresentative of what this child is going through.

Jonze and his co-screenwriter Dave Eggers have fashioned a beautiful landscape on many levels. The starkness of the opening sequences gives the story and Max’s emotional domain a respectful gravity that carries seamlessly to his island adventures. Also, a masterstroke and a tribute to Jonze’s tenacity during the film’s production, was the decision to have the Wild Things exist as real, tangible creatures through costumes and only using CGI for facial expressions and mouth movements. Again, this allowed the story to have the required gravity and to not float away into fantasia. No matter how foreign anything appeared to be, we are always and solidly placed into a real world because everything Max and his new friends feel is something anyone could relate to. Even their collective manner of speech is childlike, possibly also bordering on adolescence, by always remaining clear and straightforward.

The goat creature Alexander is anxious and consistently ignored while the horned Judith is petulant and confrontational. The winged Douglas and the long-nosed Ira are methodical and tender where The Bull is silent, sitting back and regarding all before and around him. Carol is closest to Max in terms of his desires, fears, inner confusion and constant hopes that everyone will just stay together and sleep soundly in a wooly pile forever and the fragility of those hopes makes for a character-and time of life-that is quietly honest and heartbreaking.

Of course, the biggest question that has been and will most likely continue to be asked is whether this film is appropriate for children and whether it will be too frightening. While more sensitive children may be put off by the monsters, I think that most children will relate to the presentation of this material quite easily as they are going through the exact terrain that Max is. While some may not quite be able to articulate it themselves, they can easily look at the screen and fully understand what it means to be in complete control of your emotions or be utter folly to their whimsy. To soar above it all or be almost swallowed by them completely only to emerge again. To feel unconditional love so powerfully that words need not be uttered.

Jonze has given his audience the respect, dignity and comprehension that children do indeed understand their surroundings, the people and places within their lives and their continuous search of how they fit into their individual grand schemes. Jonze understands not only the magic that occurs when children are given the opportunity to just play but also the lessons they are teaching themselves through their play. They have the ability to build self-regulation and control and comprehend what it means to spiral out of control and the consequences of doing so. The film also depicts very well how something that may not be that significant to an adult is devastating to a child. The presentation of how explosive tantrums can erupt and how children return from those elevated and furious states leaves all of us more informed. Like those students I took to that “Franklin” show, they understood and I think young viewers of this film will do the same.

For those expecting a neon colored, musical romp through the trees will be disappointed as this is not an experience of forced merriment. “Where The Wild Things Are’ is not a “dark” ride but a truthful one filmed with a bittersweet, autumnal glow that could not be any more perfect. When it was announced a film version would be made of this book, I worried and wondered how were these filmmakers going to adapt a book that contains only 10 lines into a two hour motion picture. We have all seen the sad results of movies and plays like that (the stage production of “Go Dog Go!” is the single worst show I have ever seen. Complete misery!). But, Spike Jonze and his collaborators, by remaining faithful to the source material and the childhood experience itself, have fashioned a tale that can exist on its own terms alongside the book. It is a film that children can grow with and for adults to return to as the inner journey and all of the wild things contained therein, exists for us all.

“Where The Wild Things Are” has beautifully sailed to being one of my favorite films of the year.

No comments:

Post a Comment