Director Spike Jonze’s Where the Wild Things Are has to be the Laure Ling and Euna Lee of movies. One minute there’s trouble with the project (CGI, puppet work, the rough cut) and it’s going to be sent to the proverbial hard labor camp and then poof a trailer shows up (Bill Clinton in this hackneyed metaphor) and all of a sudden the movie is on a plane and headed towards Oscar contention.
Seriously. I’ve never seen audiences react to a trailer in a way that they react to this movie. It’s pure adulation. There is, there has to be, a profound connection between people and the source material. Just the thought of Max and the Wild Things reduces people to a rambunctious six-year-old.
That’s a good thing. A great thing. A thing of beauty.