Where the Wild Things Are

I went to see the movie this morning. Wow. Most certainly not a children’s movie.

The Wild Things are scared, sad, angry, and lonely. They are searching for meaning in a mixed up world. For love in a lonely, dark night. As a result, their actions and words are scary and mean, sometimes even laced with an occasional swear. The Wild Things, large, oversized, and dangerous, reside in the dream world of Max, and they live life in a similar fashion to the thoughts and emotions of Max as he tries to process and understand the world.

The film itself is hauntingly beautiful. Dry, unexpected humor mixed with grit, dirt, and sorrow. Texture abounds in the clumpy, greasy hair, the dust, and in stick structures. Mixed with the dirt clods are moments of warmth both in cinematography and scattered glimpses of joy and laughter.

Adding to the mood is an amazing soundtrack, reflecting the inner and outer child’s search for adventure; adventure that has cookies and milk waiting when the roof of life unexpectedly caves in.

This film is for anyone who has known pain or trepidation on any level in his or her childhood. And by anyone, I mean everyone.

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