“I don’t even know if there is such a thing as a king who will do all the things he said.” – Alexander the Wild Thing
Where the Wild Things Are is a beautiful film in its portrayal, but it’s a deeply upsetting film in what it raises – then sweeps under the carpet.
Our hero Max, fresh from a backdrop of domestic turmoil, arrives at an island of wildness and chaos, an island screaming out for order. It’s an island where sadness and loneliness go unchecked, where Things hurt and abuse each other, helpless to stop but desperate for the king who will make it all go away.
They can’t love one another for the pain they deal out. They are just Wild Things, after all, and for every word of comfort they give there are three more of tearing down.
It’s an island that is slowly dying, inexorably turning to dust.
And Max is king of this island, crowned on the promise that he will bring all the Wild Things together, and somehow rid them of loneliness and sadness.
Running under it all is a dark undercurrent, the knowledge that the Wildness in the Things is not just fun and games and that they will destroy Max in a moment, just as they might destroy each other. A very real savagery is at play; it is the knowledge that the wildness is dangerous and destructive.
It’s a poignant portrayal. In the jumble there is friendship and compassion, but it is constantly getting trampled down by the chaos and disorder.
Does the island find a king who is true, who has power and who keeps his word? Do the Wild things find a ruler who administers justice, who heals their wounds and brings them together in peace? Is their Wildness redeemed?
No. Max lies his way into the kingship, finds that he is absolutely unable to rule justly or fairly or even with compassion (he’s just a kid, after all), and leaves the island community as fractured and decaying as it was when he came. Having made friends with the Wild Things, he abandons them – they are too wild for him. The piece of wisdom he takes away is that, “Family is hard.”
As he sails away from the island, the upbeat music kicks in and he’s tremendously happy to be away from it. Fin.
Oh, but this is an unsatisfying film. Where is the king the monsters long for, the king who will speak truth? Where is the father (Max doesn’t have one at home, by the way) who can resolve disputes and bring warring Things back together? They long to sleep together in one big, happy pile, but Max abandons them to a future of discord on a bleak, dead island that is slowly turning to dust.
This film sweeps everything under the carpet. It goes so far as to point out that there is a badness and that it’s best to stay away from it. But while it might show a child, “I know how you feel inside.” it offers no hope of rescue, just a little bit of uplifting music at the end to tell us that, (for no reason whatsoever) we should be happy.
Never saw the movie, but it sounds a bit like a re-make of “Lord of the Flies.”–without the Biblical overtones.
The tragedy of 21st century N.A. is the weak/seared conscience, superego, Parent–or whatever your favourite psychobabble would dictate. We suffer from too many friends and not enough heroes.