A maddeningly beautiful trip to "Where the Wild Things Are"

Of all the wild and raw emotions flying around in Spike Jonze's "Where the Wild Things Are," the one I hadn't counted on feeling during the flick was sympathy for all the studio suits who had to market it.

When they finally sat down to watch it, however, rather than fighting with Jonze for years and years, I'm confident that like me, most of them found that - despite the movie's often-lumbering pace - he got all you possibly could and more out of Maurice Sendak's magical book by turning it into a glimpse into a 9-year-old's troubled mind.

And it certainly helps that the 9-year-old in question was played by Max Records, though the studio fought him on that choice too. As the movie Max, young Mr. Records captures his state of mind perfectly, wanting to be - and often acting like - a savage while at the same time unable to mask the fear and doubt that cloud up his life. As he rampages through the woods with his wild creations, Jonze isn't afraid to let young Max get as sweaty and snotty (enough to match his attitude) as a kid would left to his own devices. My favorite Max moment, however, came early on as you see the perfectly reasonable horror on his face after a teacher tells him the sun is going to die. It's all around certainly the best movie performance by a youngster this year.

In fact, what I was most surprised to find about Jonze's movie is that, as magical as the realm of Max's wild things often is, the best segment is the first 20 minutes or so that take place in Max's often-cruel (at least in his eyes) real world. Jonze and screenwriter Dave Eggers deftly flesh out the details that will shape Max's fantasy world once he runs away from it all, from his sister's friends who destroy his igloo (but only after he started a snowball fight) to his sister and mother who don't pay enough attention to him. Best of all is that, though it's a small role, the writers and Catherine Keener quickly turn the mother into a harried, lonely but mostly sympathetic character (and I loved that scene where she distracted herself from the tedium of work by typing into a report the much-more-fun story she cajoles Max into telling her about the consequences of vampires biting buildings.)

But, of course, it's supposed to be all about the wild things here, and that's where the movie will lose some audience members - young and old - because of just how morose they often turn out to be. Here too, however, it's still written with a lively spirit as it is all filmed by Jonze and cinematographer Lance Acord with an inquisitive touch, always making us uninvited guests at this savage summit of creatures infused with all of Max's simmering frustrations.

What made it all work so well for me was that though there are often some complicated psychological issues being hashed out, Jonze and Eggers have enough confidence in the audience that they never tell us directly what's going on but instead just let it all unfold in front of us, often in the most beautiful ways. It's the alluring landscape (in Australia, if I'm not mistaken) juxtaposed with the consequences of the wild things acting out all of Max's most savage wishes (the snowball fight turns into a dirt clomp fight, and the igloo becomes the greatest fort of all time) that give the movie most of its power.

And though the actors who voice the wild things all do a a great job (James Gandolfini as Max's alter ego Carol and Lauren Ambrose as K.W., who embodies Max's sister, in particular), it's the CGI folks who create the facial expressions for the wild things who are some of the real stars. The thing that bugs me most about computer-enhanced animation is that, particularly with human beings, they just get more and more bizarre as animators try to make them look more "real." With the wild things, however, using giant puppet suits from the Henson shop that are inhabited with actors other than the voice stars, the emotions portrayed through computer animation are more moving and ultimately satisfying than anything ever created by the power of 3-D.

I've probably gone on long enough about all this splendid mess, but I wanted to take issue with one particularly annoying criticism that I read of the ending (but the critic will remain nameless - no name-calling here.) If you somehow don't know how the story ends and don't want to, please just skip to the next paragraph. When Max finally returns home after learning that "All Is Love" (as expressed in the often-enchanting soundtrack by Karen O and the Kids, which you can listen to here by clicking on the widget at right) and that, no matter how big a fort you build, you really can't "keep all the sadness out," he's welcomed home by a relieved Keener with a smile and a warm meal. One rather snotty and condescending review I read of this flick took big issue with this because Max is never punished for first berating his mother (and threatening to eat her!) and then, of course, running away. Well, I'm not a parent myself, but if my kid had run away like that, though I'd certainly be a little angry, I certainly hope I'd first be happy to have him back and give him the meal he so impetuously skipped out on. Punishment may surely have come, but in that instant, I thought Keener, a definite favorite around these parts, just captured the moment perfectly.

And in the end, I suppose all those Warner Bros folks who fought this before ultimately giving in and putting together a rather brilliant marketing campaign certainly have to be smiling now that the flick took in $12 million on Friday alone and clobbered all its competitors. Huzzah to that, and if you haven't seen it yet, I encourage all movie fans young in body and heart to take it all in. Peace out.

The flameout of "Jezebel James"

Even if the end was inevitable - because the show was in many ways just bloody awful - this is still an awfully harsh fall from grace for the creator of the often sublime "Gilmore Girls."

After airing only three episodes (over just two weeks) of the only seven episodes ordered, Fox has indeed already pulled the plug on Amy Sherman-Palladino's new show, "The Return of Jezebel James." To give credit where it's squarely due, this news was broken by TV-obsessed Michael Ausiello here.

There were a number of factors going against this show from the outset, but though it pains me to say it, the biggest problem was easily Parker Posey. It wasn't that she's not Lauren Graham - because there can of course only be one of those rather perfect human specimens - but a whole other problem.

Posey could keep up with ASP's rapid-fire dialogue, which hasn't seemed to slow down much at all, but in order to do so she had to adapt the mannerisms of a meth addict, which along with being thoroughly annoying just didn't gel too well with her New York book publisher persona. Lauren Ambrose fared better by playing it a little more cool, but still ended up often looking nothing but awkward.

The second big killer was that laugh track, which is easily the worst I've heard in many years (though I don't watch many sitcoms.) Why do networks still use this? It never sounds real, and when it's turned up very loud in all the wrong places - as on "Jezebel James" - it just points out how unfunny the show really is.

If I can digress a bit, it was great to see Sarah Chalke on "How I Met Your Mother" - another show that should just dump its laugh track - last night. Britney was, as I guess should have been expected, just pretty darn awful, but Chalke was just as charming as she's always been on "Scrubs." Could she be the secret "Mother" in this puzzle? Probably not, but that would indeed be pretty friggin cool if so.

But, getting back to "Jezebel James," the real shame here is that buried beneath all its obvious faults was the foundation for a pretty good show. The relationship between these two sisters with almost entirely different views of the world could well have developed into something very interesting, but for once at least I can't blame Fox: The gap between potential and payoff was just too wide with this one. R.I.P. Jezebel James.

The "Cadillac" of movie casts?

I've recently added Blackfilm.com to my morning reading list (in place of the froggy site Cinempire.com, which has just fallen off precipitously of late), and it's definitely a welcome addition.

As might be expected, they tend to track the minute details of movies that others pay little attention to, as they're doing with the rather fun-sounding "Cadillac Records," which is quickly attracting quite an A-list cast.

The newest addition is Gabrielle Union, who I'll admit to being smitten with ever since "Bring It On." She'll play Geneva Wade, the girlfriend and later wife of Muddy Waters, being played by the great Jeffrey Wright.

Written and directed by first-time feature (but long-time TV) director Darnell Martin, the story is about Leonard Chess, the legendary founder of the South Side Chicago blues label Chess Records, who will be played by Adrian Brody. Also confirmed for the biopic are Cedric the Entertainer as Willie Dixon, Beyonce Knowles (heard of her?) as Etta James, Eamonn Walker as Howlin' Wolf, Columbus Short as Little Walter and, easily one of my favorite actors working today, Mos Def as Chuck Berry.

Mos Def as Chuck Berry? It just doesn't get much cooler than that, so definitely keep your eyes on this one. Peace out.