Where the Wild Things Are (2009)

I'm pretty sure that I'm supposed to either love or hate this movie -- so it feels a little like I must not have quite gotten it that my feelings, though warm, are not rapturous. There were moments of real beauty, but it just didn't speak to me through the entire narrative the way that I was expecting and hoping it would.

Max Records (the boy in the grubby footy pajamas) is a real find. My favorite sequence in the film was before he ran off to the Wild Things -- when he was playing alone, then soaring high in an impromptu snowball fight, swinging quickly to fear and tears when the fight gets scary, then to rage in the aftermath. Oh, how my former nine-year-old self could relate to Record's genuine performance.

I also really enjoyed the bulk of the time spent with the Wild Things. The voice work was amazing: each character was imbued with such vivid personality and there was casual wisdom dropped and magic made -- I truly believed these creatures and their hurt feelings, sudden rages, and easy forgiveness. Despite that, it did start to feel pretty draggy about two-thirds of the way through, which will always knock a movie down a bit for me.

B+