'Where the Wild Things Are': It's nothing to go wild about

Is my tepid reaction to "Where the Wild Things Are" the result of impossibly high expectations? Spike Jonze's 1999 "Being John Malkovich" was one of the most distinctive directorial debuts in American cinema. Taking the notion of "quirky" to new levels, Jonze perfectly balanced all the humor, depth and horrifying despair that could be mined from Charlie Kaufman's script.

In the very same period, he also directed one of the greatest music videos of all time -- Christopher Walken dancing to Fatboy Slim's "Weapon of Choice" -- and a campaign short for Al Gore so effective in repudiating the candidate's reputation for being stiff that it might have been enough to swing the election if it hadn't been almost buried by Gore's people. In 2002, Jonze directed "Adaptation," from another Kaufman script, arguably the most complex celluloid mobius strip of all time.

After a seven-year gap, he returns with a fleshed-out, even bloated, version of Maurice Sendak's 1963 children's book about Max, a little boy who learns that unrestrained indulgence has its downside. In Jonze's film, Max (Max Records) is a 9-year-old with the energy of the Warner Bros.' animated Tasmanian Devil. Feeling abandoned by his older sister (Pepita Emmerichs) and his divorcée mom (Catherine Keener), he lashes out at Mom and then runs off into the streets.

In a tiny boat, he sails to an island of monsters, whom he manages to con into making him a king. He primarily bonds with Carol (voiced by James Gandolfini), whose childish temper strongly suggests Max's own id. Though Max leads the beasts in large-scale versions of his usual activities -- building a fort, dashing about, destructive partying -- there is a history of personal conflicts among his subjects that threatens his ability to control them.

Jonze and co-writer Dave Eggers have expanded things in ways that obscure the original's essence rather than elaborate it -- which would be fine if it still worked on its own terms. Thanks to both the added story elements and the visual choices, there is barely a drop of "magical" to be found; it's neither wondrous nor scary. The few moments of wonder never last very long before the utterly mundane conflicts among the beasts bring us back down to earth. Fantasy doesn't work unless it bears some resemblance to the real world. But does it have to mirror this much of reality's drab qualities -- exactly what drives us to fantasy in the first place?

This is reinforced by the decision to film in live action, and relatively realistic live action. While it would have been a catastrophe to abandon the familiar look of Sendak's beasts, the sight of people clomping around in huge, shaggy creature suits is reminiscent of "H.R. Pufnstuf." The filmmakers deserve praise for limiting the computer-generated imaging to the subtle animation of the beasts' faces; but even that decision only serves to enhance the dreary realism. In Jonze's take, Max doesn't want to go home because his own wildness has been turned back on him. He wants to leave because his fantasy world provides him with no release: It's just as much of a downer as what he was running from.

--Andy Klein

Photo: Alike: Max (Max Records), right, bonds with Carol (voiced by James Gandolfini). Credit: Matt Nettheim/Associated Press