Director Spike Jonze deftly delivers with new movie 'Where the Wild Things Are'
Caity Cudworth
Issue date: 10/22/09 Section: Entertainment
10/22/09 - Rarely is a movie treated as a cult classic before it's even released, but the hipster hype for "Where the Wild Things Are," has been building to a slow, Urban-Outfitters-sponsored (yes, seriously) burn for months now.
And, really, it's easy to see why. The trendy trinity of a soundtrack by the Yeah Yeah Yeah's Karen O, the directorial cache of oddball wunderkind Spike Jonze, and a quirky-profound script by Dave Eggers, makes for an indie scenester's wet dream.
And while the hipper-than-thou hype may be maddening (but not that maddening because, c'mon, Spike Jonze is indisputably legit), the movie behind it is so sublimely and uniquely its own that you forget about the $28 T-shirts and $50 wall posters as soon as your butt hits the seat. The movie works spectacularly, thrillingly and brilliantly.
Yep, the "wild rumpus" has officially begun, and brace yourself, because it's a spellbinding, bizarre and darkly joyful one. It's a movie as twisted, tangled and thorny as the forest in which it takes place: filled with lumpy sad-eyed creatures who tumble around their island kingdom like furry boulders and express their feelings in an endless stream of caustic comments, insulting and bear-hugging each other with equal awkward grace.
The Wild Things have human names and messy human feelings like joy, confusion, love, jealousy, and, most notably, loneliness. They are sulky and cynical. They pick fights with each other and upend trees. They insult owls. "I never apologize to owls," Carol says bitterly to his crush, KW, after badmouthing her new lazy-eyed feathered friends, Bob and Terry… "Owls are stupid."
Jonze's answer to the sterile stock of "kids' movie" is off-kilter and unsettling...and, I suppose, that's because this is not a kids movie. At its weird, muddled heart, "Where the Wild Things Are" isn't a "kids'" movie at all. It's but a movie for grownups who still fantasize about building awesome, secret forts, who worry at times, about the sun going out, and who still feel the tug of the terror and joy of childhood.
And, really, it's easy to see why. The trendy trinity of a soundtrack by the Yeah Yeah Yeah's Karen O, the directorial cache of oddball wunderkind Spike Jonze, and a quirky-profound script by Dave Eggers, makes for an indie scenester's wet dream.
And while the hipper-than-thou hype may be maddening (but not that maddening because, c'mon, Spike Jonze is indisputably legit), the movie behind it is so sublimely and uniquely its own that you forget about the $28 T-shirts and $50 wall posters as soon as your butt hits the seat. The movie works spectacularly, thrillingly and brilliantly.
Yep, the "wild rumpus" has officially begun, and brace yourself, because it's a spellbinding, bizarre and darkly joyful one. It's a movie as twisted, tangled and thorny as the forest in which it takes place: filled with lumpy sad-eyed creatures who tumble around their island kingdom like furry boulders and express their feelings in an endless stream of caustic comments, insulting and bear-hugging each other with equal awkward grace.
The Wild Things have human names and messy human feelings like joy, confusion, love, jealousy, and, most notably, loneliness. They are sulky and cynical. They pick fights with each other and upend trees. They insult owls. "I never apologize to owls," Carol says bitterly to his crush, KW, after badmouthing her new lazy-eyed feathered friends, Bob and Terry… "Owls are stupid."
Jonze's answer to the sterile stock of "kids' movie" is off-kilter and unsettling...and, I suppose, that's because this is not a kids movie. At its weird, muddled heart, "Where the Wild Things Are" isn't a "kids'" movie at all. It's but a movie for grownups who still fantasize about building awesome, secret forts, who worry at times, about the sun going out, and who still feel the tug of the terror and joy of childhood.
Be the first to comment on this story