The two names attached to the film that required a viewing are, of course, Spike Jonze (Adaptation, Being John Malkovich) and Dave Eggers (Away We Go, You Shall Know Our Velocity).  It turns out that I put this blind faith in the right hands.  Jonze had turned the beloved children’s book by Maurice Sendak and made it into an ethereal, visceral cinematic experience.

Max (Max Records) is an imaginative, rambunctious boy who’s world is shifting at it’s very foundation when his parents get divorced and his mom (Catherine Keener) starts dating someone again (Mark Ruffalo).  Fighting to find his place he acts out and extremely sensitive, like most little boys would be.  One night, after a squabble with his mom, Max runs away, finds a small boat, which he boards and rides until he gets to the place where the wild things are.

Once he gets there, he meets a motley group of friends: Carol (James Gandolfini), Alexander (Paul Dano), Judith (Catherine O’Hara), Ira (Forest Whitaker), KW (Lauren Ambrose), and a few others.  Like Max, the group finds themselves in a state of change.  The group dynamics are shifting, and no one is really happy about it.  Before the eat Max, he convinces them that he’s a king and can solve all their problems.  Desperate for a leader to fix them, they all play along.

The feel of the film is so perfectly and beautifully lachrymose, it’s impossible not to get sucked into Max’s imagination.  The script (which Eggers had a monumental task of taking the short children’s story to a feature-length film) wasn’t pretentious or obtrusive, it was charmingly hilarious and, when it needed to be, poignant and touching.  Records is a fantastic actor.  I can’t imagine any other child actor working today that could have outdone him in this performance.  While all the wild things were great, Lauren Ambrose really managed to steal the show with her voice acting.

Cinematographer Lance Acord (Marie Antoinette, Lost in Translation) shows off his tremendous talent of framing shots and locations to create a truly unique and affecting world that perfectly contrasts all the emotions Max and his friends could possibly be struggling with.  What everyone is saying is true: it’s darker than the book, and may not be perfect for small children, but this is a masterpiece of film.

4 out of 4 stars

The film begins with an extremely intimate scene between our protagonist couple, pregnant Verona (Maya Rudolph), and Burt (John Krazinski).  Two thirty-somethings confused at their inability to assimilate into normal adult society and expectations.  Both are damaged goods (lots of emotional baggage), and a little scruffy, but their sincerity and modesty (presented in front of a backdrop of heartfelt acoustic music) is enough to win over all but the most jaded of viewers.  Burt and Verona are clever and talented, nearly perfect.  Quickly after the film starts, in a particularly vulnerable moment, Verona asks, ‘Are we fuck-ups?’  It seems the two actually don’t know the answer to this question.  But boy, do we ever learn the answer.

Having extremely flexible lives, the two decide to find a suitable place to raise their daughter, giving them the excuse to travel the country, visiting family members and old friends and reopening old emotional wounds.  The couple encounters an extremely diverse array of people.  But unfortunately, the script doesn’t allow any sort of real human exchanges since the characters we meet aren’t really characters, but caricatures of bad people.  Burt’s parents (Jeff Daniels and Catherine O’Hara) are the definition of self-involved and passive aggressively racist–’Do you think the baby will be black like you?’ the mother asks.  An old boss of Verona’s (Allison Janney) and her husband (Jim Gaffigan), hate each other, and hate their overweight children, berating their kids in front of guests with the dirtiest of mouths.  A seemingly happy couple of old college friends (Chris Messina and Melanie Lynskey) seem to have it all together until they break down, confessing to recently experiencing their fifth miscarriage, and a looming feeling of helplessness that all the adopted children in the world can’t seem to cure.  There are more examples, but this seems to cover it.

All of these maladjusted characters are pocketed away as proof that despite Burt and Verona’s uncertainty, they are, in fact, superior to everyone, with no actual flaws to speak of, besides slightly untrimmed facial hair.  It’s this notion that makes the viewer feel a little robbed of what could have been an interesting meditation about entering adulthood, becoming a parent, and finding one’s own place in the world.  The performances are so unassuming and well done, and the script provides enough laughs, and tender moments that these flaws can easily be (and most certainly will be) overlooked. Praises to Krasiniski and Rudolph who clearly establish themselves as actors to be taken seriously.  Away We Go is certainly better than your average fare, but I think it’s safe to say it isn’t what Mendes hoped it would be.

3 out of 4 stars