"Wild Things" proves to be both thoughtful and challenging

Spike Jonze wastes no time revealing the subversive intentions in his film adaptation of Maurice Sendak's 1963 children's book "Where the Wild Things Are"; the hand drawn Warner Brothers logo is quickly interrupted by a running, screaming child. He chases a cat, but there's no playful innocence to his pursuit, only aggressive malice. The child is Max (Max Records) and when he finally has the feline in his grasp, a freeze frame displays his anger and the title of the film.

It's an explicit homage to the greatest film ever made about childhood strife, Francois Truffaut's The 400 Blows (1959). Where the Wild Things Are intends to operate on a level of cinematic artistry and, for the most part, it succeeds.

The crux of the film involves Max, who feels betrayed by his sister and her bullying friends, as well as his distant mother. He flees after a quarrel with his mom (Catherine Keener) one night to an island inhabited by large, furry (but far from cuddly) creatures. They include Carol (James Gandolfini), Judith (Catherine O' Hara) and KW (Lauren Ambrose), all with whom Max eventually forms a complex bond. However, this complex bond is just that, not the kind of ungainly sidekick shenanigans found in many modern films that involve children.

There is discussion of mortality, love and the human experience. Max ultimately comes to value the well-being of others, in the communal sense, before the aggrandizing of himself. It's stark material, yet it belongs in a film that is fundamentally about the mood swings of childhood, which isn't colored only by happy thoughts. A few critics have suggested the film works like a modern day The Wizard of Oz; it's a fair comparison, given the cinematic panorama of Jonze's vision.

This incredibly favorable resemblance should not suggest, though, that Jonze's film isn't without error. Given the adaptation from a children's book which contained only ten sentences of story, co-writers Jonze and Dave Eggers fail to flesh out the middle third. It even has a tonal formula, which involves a one-on-one with Max and a "Wild Thing", then a peppy montage set to a song by Karen O. from Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

The film drudges on too long and becomes flabby; either the script needed richer material, or the middle third should have been cut by 15 minutes to preserve the tight construct. Where the Wild Things Are is at times, like Max, too self-satisfied for its own good. Its recalcitrance as a children's film is refreshing, but bordering on smug, especially in the more philosophical segments. It's but a quibble, though, given the film's dexterity with regard to those troublesome adolescent years.