“I like the way you destroy stuff, good technique, there’s a spark to your work that can’t be taught.”
So says one of the Wild Things to Max in the film version of Where the Wild Things Are. I fancy the makers of this film had high hopes of it being something like the Wizard of Oz of our time. Spike Jonze directed; Dave Eggers co-wrote the screenplay; Tom Hanks is a co-producer. Catherine Keener plays Max's careworn mother. The Wild Things - portly, ramshackle muppet-monsters - are voiced by well-known actors like James Gandolfini, Forest Whitaker and Paul Dano. And the soundtrack features songs by Karen O and various other musical hip-stars. It's all very cool. And it's awfully emo. There's a lot of intimate talking, sharing of secrets, sensitivity to other peoples' shortcomings. There are times when it feels like a therapy session. I enjoyed it, but it didn't have quite the impact I wanted. Whether that's due to the shortcomings of the film or to my own status as a jaded, cynical adult, I can't say for sure.
Generally, when adapting a book into a film, I think it's best to maintain as much fidelity as possible to the source material. The problem with this film, of course, is that the source material is a slim, succinct children's book with nowhere near enough dialogue or action to fill an hour-and-a-half movie. The screenwriters had to fill all that extra space with their own imaginations, and unfortunately, their imaginations aren't nearly equal to that of Maurice Sendak.
I was going to say "Jim Henson has nothing on the Wild Things," but then I read this article stating that it was the Jim Henson Creature Shop that was behind their creation. Call it a muppet monopoly!
One gripe: the film missed my favorite detail about the book as a child: the way Max's room grows, over the course of three pages, into a moonlit forest wilderness!
