nostalgia trifecta: where the wild things are, fantastic mr. fox, alice in wonderland

"the best moments in reading are when you come across something - a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things - which you had thought special and particular to you. And now, here it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met, someone even who is long dead. And it is as if a hand has come out, and taken yours."
— Alan Bennett


a gregarious tip of my hat to spike jonze, he who has successfully interpreted and produced a beautiful, authentic, timeless film version of the classic children’s story where the wild things are. jonze kept things simple and unfettered, as they were in maurice sendak’s 1963 book of the same name; at just over 300 words long, the original doesn’t lend itself to complication.

but simple doesn’t mean boring, nor childish, and this is especially true in the case of this film. instead, wild things is a deeply sensory, dreamlike vision filled with golden hues, captured beams of sunset filtering through autumn woods and across the camera’s eye, magical landscapes and other-worldly design. the ethereal, effortless original score written and recorded by jonze’s ex-girlfriend karen o is in perfect emotional sync with the film: at times an exuberant, bouncing frolic on songs like rumpus and all is love, with a rollicking kids chorus in the background and swelling keyboards and smashing cymbals; other songs like igloo and worried shoes are guaranteed to balloon even the most calcified of hearts.



take a wee listen here:

http://www.imeem.com/karenoandthekids/playlist/MW0cdjqf/where-the-wild-things-are-soundtrack-music-playlist/


through the frosted glass of memory, my vision of where the wild things are, as i knew it in book form so intimately from my childhood, was strong in my sights and i prepared myself for the let-down that so often comes when trying to reconcile oneself with a new vision of something preternaturally ingrained into your softest, tenderest folds of perception and aesthetics. but every detail of jonze’s adaptation, from max’s wolf suit, crown and scepter to max himself, played thoughtfully and with depth and mischief by 12-year-old max records, to the wild things, played by actors in 8 foot costumes, was so extremely authentic to my nostalgic memory of the book.



and no coincidence, perhaps, since the costumes were designed and created by the jim henson company, those responsible for the original sesame street characters, the muppets and those creatures from 1986’s labyrinth. and no coincidence either, since the film was shot almost exclusively at golden hour, the first and last hour of sunlight every day. this lighting is soft and warm, and cuts the shadows long and sharp. as the sun comes onto the horizon, illumination comes directly from the sky; more blue light is scattered, casting everything into sumptuous reddish orange.



so, as i said, a gregarious tip of the hat to spike jonze: this movie joins the ranks of classics in my heart, nestled deep beneath the princess bride, the neverending story, beetlejuice, and so on: ones that manage childlike without being childish, ones that make your insides rise up with hope, ones that dive in deep to the purity and adventure of wild imagination. and soon wes anderson’s vision of fantastic mr. fox, one among the dozens of roald dahl stories that inform a great heaping deal of my writing, my sense of the universe, my sense of magic and of humor; and then tim burton’s alice in wonderland, out next year.

it suits my sensibilities just fine, both this mood for nostalgia, and an intense appreciation for my own simple, beautiful, hazy-eyed childhood.