Where the Wild Things Are is a indie mumblecore movie with a studio-sized special effects budget. It is a vast and visually compelling extrapolation of a kid’s internal dialogue. I really enjoyed it. You might not.
Mumblecore is the completely wrong term, but I’m grasping at straws to label it. The monsters are mumbley, emotional beings. I like the one with the buffalo head.
It was exactly what I was expecting in that it was strange and beautiful, but I wanted to be profoundly moved. I wanted to be weeping. A few gorgeous moments certainly swelled my heart, but I was hoping to be stunned by the beauty of it. I did have a crappy seat though; second row, at the edge, beneath a mammoth screen, so my view was oblonginated.
It’s absolutely pitch perfect at nailing the inner dialogues of a young kid. Being someone that lives largely within my own head, which is to say, I can have a vibrant conversation with myself without opening my mouth, I absolutely identify with Max and his thought processes. And if you can’t identify with him, you won’t enjoy the movie. It’s also completely faithful to the tone of the book.
Despite what you will think of it, I think this movie will be talked about for many years. It requires mental digestion. I’ll watch it again, and then probably again, when it opens October 16th and I suggest you do the same.
UPDATE: The day after. It’s still resonating in my head and I like it more today than I did last night. Good films keep playing over and over in your head after you leave the theater.