I felt strong pangs of nostalgia during this movie. More awkwardly, I heard the restless wrestling of the youngins' and their regretful parents around me. This was far too deep for humans not old enough to reminisce. Perhaps you have to be older than 18 to enjoy it, to be able to look back at your youth with regrets and longing. Max is a 9 year old to a fault. His haphazard imagination is full of tangents and half-thoughts. It's the moments of passing clarity (Max's fear when his Wild Things avatar, Carol, is off the handle; KW isn't wrong to seek out new friends; emotions are strange) that will fly over the heads of those 9 year olds in the audience. We old timers (at 27, I feel simultaneously part of the target hipster and the silly nonsensical kid demographics without wholly belonging to either) see the insecurities masquerading as confidence in Max. I got a lot out of it. The rivers in the land of the Wild Things run deep. Even as the Wild Things cumulatively lose the plot, I saw value in the confusion it created. It's about feeling alone and out of place even amongst a crowd, even in your own mind.
Spike Jonze steps out of the Charlie Kaufman shadow he helped create to claim his own vision. This is the work of a visionary cued to the artistic instincts of a master getting better, staying true to his gut. The film has moments of exquisite beauty, but the aesthetics are strictly rough around the edges - like Roger Deakins' family vacation home movies. If the film has failed to connect with viewers - I might just have to play the snob card - they just don't get it...or aren't old enough to get it yet. A child's psyche is a place where Wild Things roam. It's not high and mighty to realize I want my mom sometimes, and I don't ever have to say so. I can always go home. Even if cliches always say otherwise.
****
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