The book on this film is that it’s dividing audiences. If that’s true, we need smarter audiences in this country.

You’ve probably read the book, or had it read to you – Where the Wild Things Are has sold millions and millions of copies. You probably remember the thin story, at least vaguely. Our hero Max misbehaves, and he’s sent to bed without supper. He escapes to a land full of monsters, who make him their king. He returns home, and his dinner is waiting for him, still hot. That’s pretty much it. The magic in Sendak’s work isn’t the words, it’s the pictures – the mischief in Max, the towering monsters with their sweetly feral faces.

Spike Jonze and Dave Eggers adapted the book into a screenplay with some input from Sendak. I had some fear going in that this pairing might result in something a little too precious, but I’m happy to be wrong. They treat the source material with respect, but not so much that they don’t expand it in all sorts of interesting directions. The dynamics of Max’s real family are mirrored, distorted and maybe ultimately redeemed in his interactions with his adopted monster family. Instead of using the huge studio budget to show us the rumpus, Jonze to his credit uses the combination of Henson shop monsters and CGI expressions to dive into the emotional truth of the story. The result is a subtle, clever movie about the lonely island of childhood that’s aimed squarely at adults.

The cinematography is wondrous, and the voice acting is true and alive. The nine-year-old that won the role of Max is a casting coup – it’s hard to imagine a better performance from anyone. It might not satisfy audience members looking for a full-on popcorn movie, but it’s a solid success as a drama.

Recommended. Note: you should probably see it late so there’s less kids. You know what they’re like.