Wild Things

Where the Wild Things Are was something of a reference point in my house growing up. Max - the ultimate of all wanton, incontrollable children is sent to bed without any supper. My parents even recommended it for families who had a son called Max, as a tentative warning perhaps of the wonders he may conjure up. Comforting ey. It was read to me over and over, in an attempt to calm my wild rumpus. With all these connotations, maybe deliberately on my little rebellious part, the fawn and grassy colours of the Wild Things' surroundings and the din of their wild rumpus came together to be one of my favourite stories (besides the Owl Who Was Afraid Of The Dark, that is.) There was something limitless about Max's adventure that I dreamt of every time I packed my bags to run away; only faltering when common sense tugged at my sleeve and pointed out I had no money and was seven.

The brief snippets of Spike Jonze's project appeared in autumn and winter trailers, and from my first glance at Max's iconic wolf suit I was enthralled to see how such amazing visuals had been created - and of course to see the magic of childhood temper and frustration showcased on a big screen not a little lap. With author Maurice Sendak involved as a producer you can relax knowing that this may be one book-to-screen adaptation that will truly achieve. Max heads off the land where the wild things are in a boat transplanted from the book and returns home in the very same. The wild things, each echoing a facet of Max's personality are gorgeously and luxuriously brought to live in resplendent gruffness.

Much like Wes Anderson's Fantastic Mr Fox there is a simple model for adapting that involves respect for a novel and a deep seated love for the story that allowed directors and screen writers' imaginations to run wild as the author may have; if not writing a children's book. In the case of Jonze, an eleven page screen play is drawn from from ten lines of text, and reams of illustrations. Where The Wild Things Are is quite clearly a homage to childhood, rages, let downs and parents all in one considered bundle of wonder... but for grown ups. Kids in the audience choose to make their own sound effects in the more thoughtful passages, and the laughs from the adults were merely echoed by kids’ squeals as they attempt to get in on the gag. As far as I'm concerned, they have enough of a good time – this one is ours.