Movie Review: "The Road"

The one thing I remember about Cormac McCarthy's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel "The Road" is the color gray.

Gray is everywhere in the novel, which takes place in a world that has been decimated by an unspecified disaster. Grey ash covers the ground and the characters live under barren skies. The snow is a grey, sooty color and even the ocean has ceased to be blue. It's a desolate, barren world in which a young Man and his Boy traverse a largely-abandoned road, looking for the sea.

If there's one thing Director John Hillcoat gets absolutely right in his adaptation of the novel, it's the gray. Filming largely without the help of computer generated effects, Hillcoat found burned out, ravaged areas of Pennsylvania and surrounding states to recreate a ravaged, dying world where the trees are empty and dying, stalled vehicles litter the roads and starving, hopeless families have taken unspeakable measures to either survive or escape the horror.

The other thought I had upon reading McCarthy's novel is that it was unfilmable. The writer's sparse prose and ungilded dialogue gives the story much of its weight, demanding readers to create the world in their mind and providing a poetry to the narrative. Few writers pay as much attention to the actual craft as McCarthy and he's the rare wordsmith who is able to create such a compelling tale through so few words.

I walked away from "The Road" realizing I was right: in a certain sense, "The Road" is unfilmable. No movie will ever be able to perfectly realize McCarthy's writing because film provides us with images that McCarthy powerfully evokes...something is bound to be lost in translation.

But Hillcoat comes as close as one possibly could to bringing "The Road" to the screen. While it's not the perfect adaptation that Joel and Ethan Coen's "No Country for Old Men" was, "The Road" retains the book's solemnity and quiet and delivers a difficult, brutal and yet surprisingly moving and beautiful meditation on humanity, grace and hope. Just two weeks after "2012" turned the end of the world into spectacle where millions of people died for our amusement, "The Road" captures the sadness and profundity of what it may be like to be among the last human beings on Earth and moves us over the plight over a father and his son.

Much of the film's success comes from Viggo Mortensen, perfectly cast as The Man. This decade has been one in which Mortensen has proven himself as one of the most versatile and dependable actors, able to lose himself in a role be it that of a noble man ("Lord of the Rings"), a father with a brutal past ("A History of Violence") or a vicious killer ("Eastern Promises.") Here, haggard and gaunt, caked in grime, the Man is a walking skeleton, exhausted and on the brink of collapse. But his eyes light with anger, grief, passion and intensity when it comes to the one thing he has left: his son, with whom he is walking the road and teaching to grow up right, to "carry the fire" of goodness, humanity and dignity in a world that has thrown those things aside in an effort to survive. The boy, played by Kodi Smit-McPhee, at first doesn't do much more than register shock and worry as they trudge through the world. But as the father's words sink in and he begins to apply them, there's a fierce anger in the child's eyes as he questions his father's own stubbornness and refusal to treat others kindly in favor of survival.

Of course, one couldn't blame the Man for holding on so tightly and violently to his son. In flashbacks, we see glimpses of the life that existed before the world went gray--ironically, the first image Hillcoat shows us are blooming trees and verdant fields. The Man had a wife (Charlize Theron) who was pregnant with the Boy when the clocks stopped and the fires started. We see her begin to unravel and lose hope, desperately not wanting to give birth to a child in such a dismal world and then finally, when the Boy has grown, leaving and not coming back. The Boy is all he has, the only thing that makes the Man human and gives him hope ("If he is not the word of God, then God never spoke," the Man says in voice-over).

Hillcoat, whose previous film ("The Proposition") also dealt with the plight of desperate people in a hopeless landscape, does not flinch upon showing us the horror that exists in this post-apocalyptic world. Those who survive have largely thrown off humanity in favor of survival, robbing, raping, killing and eating those who still survive. For the most part, Hillcoat shies away from showing us the most brutal and disturbing aspects, alluding to them through a splash of blood or the carnage that remains. But a visit to a farmhouse--possibly the most horrifying sequence in the novel--remains intact, as terrifying and disturbing a moment as any I've seen on the screen this year.

But Hillcoat doesn't exploit the novel's darker moments and turn this into "I Am Legend" or "2012." Rather he's more interested in the same questions McCarthy poses: can The Man and The Boy survive and keep their humanity intact? And, when the time comes, will the Man be willing to kill his son in order to spare him a darker fate?

And while the film, like the novel, is grim, its peppered with moments of surprising hope and subtle beauty, as the Man and Boy experience unexpected graces. A can of Coke. A bunker stocked with food. A hot bath. The memories of mother. A quiet interlude with an old man (Robert Duvall) in which the existence and compassion of God are called into question.

Even more touching is the story of fatherhood that weaves through this story and the moral questions it provokes. For the Man is not simply living for his child to survive. He wants his child to "carry the fire," and grow into a man who does the right thing. When the child asks if they will not eat anyone no matter how starving they get, it's moving because the kid has a deeper problem than survival. The first moments with the old man and an encounter with a thief on the side of the road become occasions for the child to surpass his father in terms of morality, compassion and warmth. In the later sequence, I recalled Christ's words to love our enemies, pray for those who persecute us and turn the other cheek and found tears welling in my eyes at the beauty of this child. If the world were to end, this is they type of boy I'd hope was left.

In the end, the film succeeds not because it recaptures the power of McCarthy's novel (it never could) but because it recaptures the humanity of the story. It presents us a grim, barren and hopeless world and then asks us if goodness and hope can still exist. In such a dark and harrowing tale, I was surprised to find a warmth in my chest as that question was answered.

Movie Review: "Ninja Assassin"

Originally written for the Nov. 29 edition of "The Source":

Things heard upon leaving a recent screening of “Ninja Assassin.”

”That was more like a slasher movie than an action movie.”

Probably one of the most astute things I’ve heard from an audience member following a free screening. “Ninja Assassin,” the latest action flick from Warner Brothers, spills its blood by not by the gallons, but by the pool.

Of course, one would expect the tale of rogue ninja Raizo (Korean pop star “Rain) on the run from the clan that trained him to have its moments of carnage. Martial arts films are chock full of dismemberments, broken bones and gouged eyes. But from its opening sequence, in which a ninja dices and slices a group of punk teenagers in a tattoo parlor, “Ninja Assassin” wallows in the wet red stuff, eviscerating characters (the term is used loosely in this review) with such wanton gore and bloodlust that even Freddy Krueger would consider it over-the-top.

Of course, some will give it a pass because it’s stylized and computer-generated blood that pours from wounds like a leaky faucet, not the gritty and realistic violence we see in the “Saw” films. While director James McTeigue (“V for Vendetta”) keeps things cartoonish enough that no one will ever buy it as real, seeing a man’s head spliced in half in the first three minutes of a movie is jarring no matter what the context.

The plot also resembles a slasher movie, if you consider the evil ninjas to be the story’s boogeymen. They pick off a random group of people one by one—not high school students but rather high-ranking Interpol officials who catch wind of the clan’s existence. And they set their sights not on a heroic cop but on a helpless young woman (Naomi Harris), whose only hope is the Raizo, who was once trained by the clan and, we learn through a series of flashbacks, turned against them after they murdered his girlfriend.

I bring up the gore first because that’s really all “Ninja Assassin” has on its mind. Even the title screen is nothing more than formed by a splash of crimson. One fight scene even takes place behind a screen where we can’t even see the shadows of the contenders but can see their blood being splashed on the wall. In this movie, throwing stars don’t simply cut someone but tear them apart with the force of an uzi. Forget style, grace or skill; McTeigue is only interested in how much computer-generated plasma he can douse the screen in.

I have no problem with the use of violence and blood in an action movie; after all, swords do cut and bullets pierce. But just as gore in a horror movie doesn’t make the film scary, blood in an action flick doesn’t make it exciting. Especially when that blood is obviously computer generated and watching hundreds of ninjas and police die excruciatingly looks like something out of a videogame.

Which leads to the next thing I heard while exiting the theater.

”That was just like ‘Kill Bill.’”

No, it really isn’t.

I can understand the comparison. Quentin Tarantino’s “Kill Bill, Vol. 1”—possibly the best action film of the decade—climaxes with a 20-minute battle in which Uma Thurman hacks apart ninjas with a samurai sword. The violence in the scene is just as bloody as anything McTeigue shows in “Ninja Assassin,” so why is one a classic and the other a dud?

It comes down to showmanship.

McTeigue is a stylish director. I admired “V for Vendetta” and he’s been a second-unit director on movies like “The Matrix” and “Speed Racer.” He knows action and style. What he doesn’t show is a love for this particular genre of film. “Kill Bill” was bursting at the seams with visual and aural cues that expressed passion for martial arts movies; the spurting blood geysers were not meant to excite audiences’ bloodlust but instead paid homage to the films of the Shaw Brothers and other genre masters. Every swing of the sword, gouge of the eye and kick of the foot was done as a love letter to a particular type of film; the joy of the scene came not from the carnage but the knowing re-creation of a beloved film style. In “Ninja Assassin,” McTeigue thinks audiences simply want to see dismemberments and decapitations for their own sake. He knows the lyrics to a good action movie but not the music that makes the scene dance.

Let’s not also forget that “Kill Bill’s” climactic showdown was done largely without the aid of computers. Tarantino used stunt men and women to capture the grace and beauty of martial arts. “Ninja Assassin” is staged like a typical kung fu flick, with a fight every five minutes or so, but McTeigue forgets that the exhilaration of watching Bruce Lee, Jet Li or Jackie Chan in action is in the long shots that show them performing tremendous physical feats. There is a skill in martial arts that is lost when you’re quick-cutting every five seconds or using computers to do work that Chan could do in grade school. Also, I understand the visual appeal of keeping ninjas in the shadows, but the film is so murky that it’s hard to get a grasp on anything going on; ironically, the blood splashing gives us our only frame of reference. Just as you can’t capture the beauty of Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly without showing their feet when they dance, you can’t recapture the thrill and artistry of martial arts without showing the full body in motion; CGI and rapid cuts take all the danger and thrill out of the fight.

”That movie was really stupid.”

If I could get away with a five-word review, I would have just added that quote verbatim. Forget Rain’s wooden dialogue or Harris’s non-existent personality. Forget the imbecilic Interpol agent who seems to reverse his position every five minutes only to end up as a hero anyway. Forget that a key plot point is that the great ninja assassin gets caught on a home surveillance camera or that Interpol has a team of super agents dedicated to arresting ninjas. And forget that the film’s climax suddenly gives its villain superpowers but he can still be surprised by a “glorified librarian” with a gun. Forget all that, and you forget the entire movie. Which may be a good thing.

”Sir, you’re a walking hazard."

That was actually directed at me as I was attempting to cross the lobby while using my Blackberry. Maybe the lady who chided me was right. Maybe I should learn to walk safer. And the first step of that: walk away from any theater showing “Ninja Assassin.”

Movie Review: "Precious"

I will admit to being surprised when Lee Daniels' new film "Precious" opened in third place at the box office this weekend, bringing in $5.8 million on less than 200 screens across the nation.

After all, "Precious" (which opens in Detroit area theaters this weekend) is not the feel-good type of crowd-pleaser that one would associate with a Saturday night at the movies; it's an often-devastating and emotionally wrenching drama that often hurts to watch. The movie is very good, but it doesn't provide the escapism of "2012" that often propels films to the top of the charts.

While some would argue that the support of Tyler Perry and Oprah Winfrey - who signed on as executive producers after seeing the film at the Sundance Film Festival - has driven much of the movie's support, I am going to chose to be more hopeful: Audiences are flocking to "Precious" because it is the rare film experience that gives you a character worth rooting for and a story worth seeing, presented by actors who rocket past any previous expectations we have of them.

Precious (Gabourey Sidibe) is a 350-pound 17-year-old living in Harlem. She attends middle school because she is illiterate. At home she endures a verbally and physically abusive mother (comedian Mo'Nique) who is less interested in Precious' well-being than in the welfare checks that keep food on the table. As the film begins, Precious is about to be expelled from school; she is pregnant with her second child from her father.

The opening scenes are as bleak as any I've endured in a movie theater: Precious' life makes the kids from "Slumdog Millionaire" look like a vacation in Bombay. We learn, through her mumbled and lifeless narration, that she is good at math but doesn't apply herself at school because of her home life. She retreats into a fantasy world where she's a model or movie star and then, when reality comes crashing in, she confides in the audience that she wishes she was dead. After witnessing one of her confrontations with her mother - as shrill, violent and hateful a character as I've ever seen - we begin to realize that death might actually be considered a blessing for Precious.

But hope is glimpsed when Precious, expelled from her classes, is sent to an alternative school where an idealistic inner city teacher (Paula Patton) sees her potential. Despite her mother's put-downs, Precious begins to apply herself for the first time, learning to read and write, and building friendships for the first time among the girls in her class. The rough, vulgar shell that protects her on the street begins to melt away and Sidibe shows us the smiling, funny and beautiful person that is finally given a chance to come out of hiding and dream of a better life for herself and her children.

The description is probably a bit too simple and, on paper, it sounds like "Precious" is another troubled-teen-makes-good story, ala "Good Will Hunting." Yet Daniels' (producer of "Monster's Ball") is wise enough not to make this the story of how Precious becomes a genius; her struggle is not to publish a book or graduate college. Her challenge is to read, write and learn how to navigate life on her own. The story is not so much about Precious' success, but about the very possibility of success appearing to this girl for the first time; as bleak and dark as the story gets, it's anchored by the goodness and hope of those who don't give up on Precious, such as her teacher or a kind-yet-tough social worker (a nearly unrecognizable Mariah Carey).

To see Sidibe in character as "Precious" and then watch her in an interview is as startling a thing as I've ever witnessed; what she accomplishes with this role is one of the strongest feats of acting I've seen in years. In the beginning of the film, Sidibe captures Precious as closed-up, angry and even violent, her voice a series of rough mumbles and expletives. Yet Sidibe lets enough of the character's humor and longing seep through to garner audiences sympathy; the Precious we see at the end of the film is a transformed, hopeful and wiser young woman, but the transformation is smooth because Sidibe lets those seeds exist in the beginning. The story is a triumph not because Precious becomes a different person but because those glimpses we see of her in the beginning are finally allowed to burst forth and shine.

I was shocked by the work done by Mo'Nique here. In films like "Soul Plane," she's always been a loud, brassy stereotype, grating on the eardrums and the patience. Here, the comedienne creates as evil and despicable a character as I've ever seen, not just in her physical abuse, but in the vitriol Precious' mother spews at her own flesh and blood. A confrontation when Precious brings her newborn child home to meet his grandmother quickly escalates into one of the most wrenching, horrific and heart-breaking moments I've ever witnessed onscreen. Yet Mo'Nique refuses to turn the character into a caricature and there is a scene near the end where she moved this reviewer to tears, revealing that Precious' mother isn't so much contemptible as pitiable.

Much has been made of Daniels' use of musicians like Carey and Lenny Kravitz (as a male nurse) in the film. I was surprised at how low-key their performances were; this is not a case of grand-standing but of clever casting. Kravitz is subtle in his minor role, and Carey's small but crucial role is strong and brave, considering that the notorious diva allows herself to be filmed without makeup or a flattering hairstyle.

Daniels himself could learn to dial back on the theatrics a bit; he's a fan of swooping camera tricks and artistic touches when they aren't called for (a glow coming from the classroom is awkward and ham-handed); this is an otherwise gritty film and the auteur tendencies only call attention to themselves. Likewise, the film's final scene feels a bit abrupt and the impact of a third act's revelation is never fully dealt with.Still, with performances as strong as anything I've seen all year and an undeniably gripping story, "Precious" holds the attention. Sidibe creates a character nothing like we're used to and it's a credit to her that we stick with Precious until the end. And it's the rare film where hope feels genuine, happy endings feel earned and the tears are justified.

Movie Review: "The Box"

Richard Kelly's "The Box" is a fantastic short film padded out unnecessarily to feature length and weighed down by some of the most preposterous science-fiction plotting this side of "The Matrix" sequels.

It's a shame, because the film, based on Richard Matheson's short story "Button, Button" presents a morality tale so intriguing and simple that it's easy to see why Kelly wanted to take a stab at adapting it (the story was also the basis for a "Twilight Zone" episode): A young couple is visited by a strange man who presents them with a box and an offer - if they press the button inside the box within the next 24 hours, they will receive $1 million. The catch - when they press the button, someone they don't know will die. The question is, can they live with the death of a stranger if it allows them to live comfortably?

Why Kelly, who directed the overrated and similarly ridiculous "Donnie Darko," decided to add subplots involving NASA, Mars, watery wormholes and the afterlife to the equation is beyond me, although those who have seen "Darko" or his largely unseen follow-up "Southland Tales" know the director loves to confuse audiences and mistake impenetrability with profundity.

The film's strong first act should have been the film itself - and it makes me bemoan the absence of anthology filmmaking. Cameron Diaz and James Marsden portray the couple who receives the titular box; living in the 1970s, he has dashed hopes of being an astronaut and she's a teacher with a deformity that she tries to hide from others. When the charming, yet hideously scarred Mr. Steward (Frank Langella) shows up at their door with the box, the film hits its highest notes. Who hasn't wondered what they would be capable of in return for comfort and assurance?But only 30 minutes into the film, Diaz presses the button, Langella presents the cash and reprograms the box (with the wonderfully creepy promise that it will be 'presented to someone you don't know'), and the film loses its slow-burn, character-based moral drama for a sci-fi, paranoia-laced thriller so twisty and confounding that even if everything is explained, it still feels inexplicable.

Not that it's a boring ride. Kelly has an eye for style, and he creates a wonderfully eerie and atmospheric thriller that, in tone, is reminiscent of "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" or any number of conspiracy flicks. A slow speed chase through a library builds tension wonderfully and a creepy student who shows up in a few too many places manages to be fittingly unsettling. The score brilliantly taps into the spine-tingling nature of Hitchcock's films, and Kelly goes to great pains to faithfully recreate the NASA facilities and equipment of the time.

Likewise, Marsden and Langella are fantastic in their roles. Marsden brings a subtlety to his protagonist, portraying a good man who finds himself punished for his selfish deeds. Langella, with a hideously burned face, still manages to project charm and empathy, even when it's wrapped up in a quietly threatening demeanor. Diaz, however, is miscast and seems to focus more on getting a Virginian accent right than bringing any emotion or personality to her character.

At its heart, "The Box" is a morality tale centered on two normal characters faced with an extraordinary choice. By trying to explain the box and the button, Kelly robs the parable of its power and focus. The story is no longer about ordinary people facing their own inner evil, but is now about the fate of the world and powers higher than us. When the film refocuses on the characters for a strong third act, the hook of the premise is enough to make us care about the final moral decision awaiting the couple - but we've taken so many rabbit trails to get to that point that we don't really know why they're in this position or what the denouement means.

Kelly keeps "The Box's" plot moving, but fails to bring his characters along for the ride.

Still, there's enough to make the film worthy of a look, if only for the handsome cinematography, the strong performances by Langella and Marsden, or the strong moral questions posed in the first and third act. Kelly still has enough style to make a watchable film; he just overloads them with absurd twists and turns that negate audience investment. Maybe he should stop trying to think outside the box.

DVD Review: "Trick 'R Treat"

What kind of trick was Warner Brothers playing on audiences by hiding such a fun film for so long?

I had first heard about Michael Dougherty's horror anthology "Trick 'R Treat" when I saw the trailer for it attached to the DVD of "300." It looked like a sure fire hit--a creepy, funny/scary collection of scary stories centered around the traditions of Halloween. Dougherty had a nice track record with Warner Brothers--he was the screenwriter of "X2" and "Superman Returns"--and it looked like he had crafted an atmospheric and fun little horror flick. I quickly noted that I wanted to see it when it hit theaters that next Halloween.

Except it was never released. For two years, Warner Brothers kept it hidden away and the only noise I heard about it was when a screening would be covered by Aint-It-Cool-News. It didn't make enough noise to get a release and yet it would always pop up as a topic of discussion at Comic Con or throughout the geek sites, with Warner Brothers promising we would see it "soon."

Unfortunately, "soon" meant 2009 instead of 2007. And instead of a big screen roll out just in time for Halloween, it was dumped with little fan fare to DVD.

The move baffles me. "Trick 'R Treat" is not a great movie, mind you, but it is vastly more entertaining than most of what passes for horror out there. A clever mix of horror and humor, it's an atmospheric and fun homage to everything we love about Halloween.

Four stories interweave throughout the movie, all taking place on Halloween night in a small town in Ohio. There's the school principal (Dylan Baker) hiding his identity as a serial killer, a young woman (Anna Paquin) worried about finding the right boy for her "first time," a group of kids conspiring to play a mean prank on a local girl and a mean old man (Brian Cox) who is tormented by a demonic Trick-or-Treater. Each of these stories twists and turns out of each other and each has a little twist, ever ghoulishly funny or horrifying and each is centered around various traditions--don't go off alone, don't blow out the lights in jack-o-lanterns, don't go to strangers' houses. And if ever a movie prompted kids to check their candy, it would be this.

I find myself baffled that the perennial Halloween movie lately is the latest arrival in the bleak and sadistic "Saw" franchise. For me, the great thing about Halloween was the over-the-top mixture of funny and scary. People dress up as demons, vampires, monsters and werewolves and we spend a good chunk of the month of October going to elaborate haunted houses jumping out of our skin and letting people try to scare us; the fun is the extravagant nature, when the macabre and grotesque can get us laughing at how easily we're scared. "Saw" is too realistic, too hopeless and too dark to capture the fun of Halloween; the type of scared we want on that holiday is a fun house scare that makes us jump, makes us a bit sick but ultimately makes us laugh at how easily we get scared.

Dougherty gets that and utilizes Halloween tropes effectively to re-create the atmosphere of that night--the jack-o-lanterns, parades of bizarre creatures going down the street, the sing-song refrain of "trick-or-treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat." He also knows that we want our scares to be big and larger-than-life...the supernatural has to be darker than we could imagine so that we can laugh at the preposterousness of it all. And he makes sure that when each story takes its dark and devilish turns, there's always a wicked smile at the back of it. Baker's story, particular, has a morbidly funny little twist and the film's final scene includes a creepy/funny little call back.

The cinematography here is beautiful...the dark, rich colors, the use of jack-o-lanterns in the dark night. One particular sequence is wonderfully creepy, as the pumpkins in the fog are extinguished to hint of an oncoming menace. The film draws its inspirations from horror comics and anthologies like "Creepshow," and each shot could easily be a panel of a richly-drawn graphic novel.

The stories are fun in and of themselves; Baker's, as I've said, is the strongest, with its mix of humor and horror. Paquin's tale meanders for a bit before revealing its little twist and Cox's is a bit too standard for my taste. The story of the prank, with its flashback to a bizarre urban legend and its wonderful use of atmosphere, is also effective and best captures the mixture of childlike imagination and terror that makes Halloween so fun.

And if I had a complaint, it would be that I wish Dougherty had toned down the film's gore and adult sequences and made this a film that all ages...including kids...could enjoy. Halloween is, at its core, a child's holiday and there aren't enough scary movies out for children. If this was released 20 years ago I know that I would be trying to find a copy to watch with my friends.

It's a shame that WB sat on this for so long and I hope it finds its audience on DVD. I'd love to see this be a film watched every Halloween and I would even love to see a follow up, a string of new anthologies every few Halloweens as a way to mark the holiday.

That would be quite a treat.

Movie Review: "Where the Wild Things Are"

Originally published in the Oct. 18 edition of The Source.

Anyone who was ever 9 years old will find something to love in the film adaptation of "Where the Wild Things Are."

Max (Max Records) is the product of a broken home; he watches his mother fret over finances and does what he can to cheer her up - it's painful to watch Mom worry. His active imagination comes to life in snow forts and rampages through the house with the dog; sometimes, such as when his older sister ignores him to go with her new, cooler friends, it forces him to lash out in anger. He loves snowball fights, but can break out in tears when the playing gets too intense.

The details are different for us all, but I'm sure every adult can identify at some point with the hero of Spike Jonze's adaptation of Maurice Sendak's beloved children's book. Jonze adds heart and insight to Sendak's nine-sentence story and refuses to pander to kids by inserting fart jokes, pop culture references and slapstick humor. He has created one of the most beautiful and sincere films about what it is like to be a child that I have ever seen.

The basic storyline of the film follows Sendak's short story, with Jonze and co-writer Dave Eggers fleshing out Max's home life to include the distant sister and the mother (Catherine Keener), who has also just begun dating a new man (Mark Ruffalo). Jonze doesn't beat us over the head with these story points but presents them from Max's point of view; it's easy to see where his anger, loneliness and fear come from, particularly when Max encounters a school teacher who informs him that one day the sun will burn out. Max's hyper outbursts seem less the work of a precocious movie kid and more the genuine outworking of a confused, scared child. Who never retreated to a fantasy world as a child or lashed out at their parents when they felt ignored?

Max runs away from home one night and finds himself en route to a mysterious island where giant beasts live, who quickly make Max their king. These aren't friendly, cuddly creatures, at first. One, Carol (James Gandolfini) has thrown himself into and is destroying the village. The others are a mess of psychological issues, fearful, insecure and ready to run away. Jonze treats Sendak's creations not as marketing, Happy Meal-ready characters but as manifestations of Max's personality, personifying the emotions every child feels at one time or another.

For those who think those are deep waters for a kids' movie, you're right, but it's not much different than "The Wizard of Oz."Jonze, the director of "Being John Malkovich" and "Adaptation," might at first seem to be a bizarre choice for this material. Consider, however, that his previous films have dealt with the workings of the human mind, mixed with a dash of whimsy, and it might be easier to see what attracted him to this material.

Jonze is interested in recreating what it felt like to be 9 years old: the playfulness that easily turns into violence, the emotions that run out of control and can be soothed by adults, the fear of finding out for the first time that the world is dangerous and not everyone is on your side. I predict many kids will be caught up in the story and many other adults will be jarred by how closely it hits to home.Very little computer imagery is used in the film; it was shot on location in forests, deserts and around lakes; this is one of the most beautiful films to look at this year. The Wild Things themselves are actors in costumes supplied by the Jim Henson Company; only the faces are digitally altered. Jonze shoots most things with a handheld camera, tumbling alongside Max and the Wild Things as they careen through the woods or attack each other with dirt clods.

The result is a surprisingly intense and primal film that feels genuine from start to finish; Jonze's involvement in the television show "Jackass" may have actually been of benefit to the rough and tumble play between Max and the Wild Things. Some may feel the film gets too intense for smaller children, but I'd argue that children are tougher than we think. The greatest children's work has always had an edge to it, a sense of being scary and nearly out of control. Jonze's greatest feat is that he never once condescends to his audience, and instead shows a keen knowledge of what kids think and feel, and what their play is like.

All of this depends on the work of Records, who turns in one of the most genuine and nuanced child performances I've seen. Never once does the young actor seem to be saying things that are too smart or precious for a child to say; his emotions are genuine, his reactions just what we would expect. It's a confident and surprisingly layered performance for a child to give and Records provides the film with a beating heart.

There's not really a plot to speak of - Max is made king, he rules as best he can while keeping the secret that he's just a boy. But then again, childhood play had no real plot; we made up the stories each day as we went along and in retrospect, probably wrote in our own fears, insecurities, dreams and hopes. Jonze wisely casts actors, not stars, as the voices of the Wild Things, including Gandolfini, Chris Cooper, Forest Whitaker and Paul Dano. The result is believable characters, without the distractions that would be provided by stars like Seth Rogen or Jim Carrey, who would turn it into a joke fest and not the heartfelt work that Jonze has created, balancing joy and energy with sadness and fear - just like childhood.

As I write this review, it's been less than 24 hours since I saw the film and the one drawback of working on deadline is that I don't know that the film has had time to digest properly. I've told you what works and why, but I find myself affected by the film in ways I cannot yet articulate. And perhaps that's the biggest success of "Where the Wild Things Are." In a genre that is often home to junk food and studio trash, Spike Jonze has created a profound, primal reminder of what it is to be a child - fun, scary, lonely, sad and confusing. It's a beautiful and poetic reminder of that time in our lives when adventure was around the corner, the world was beginning to expand and life was wild.

Movie Review: "Paranormal Activity"

When I got up and left the theater after "Paranormal Activity," my initial reaction was that I had seen a skillfully crafted and effectively creepy little scary movie that may be a victim of its own hype.

It wasn't until I laid in bed and started hearing the creaks and taps in my own bedroom that I realized just how far under my skin the movie had gotten.

The latest in a long line of "found footage"movies, "Paranormal Activity" has been selling out midnight shows across the country for a few weeks. Rumor going around Hollywood is that Steven Spielberg, upon seeing it, brought the disc back and threw it away because he had experienced his own strange happenings after watching it. Several people walked out of early screenings because they were allegedly too terrified to stay to the end. Bloggers who saw the film in 2007 (it's waited for a release date while Dreamworks and Paramount sorted out their internal messes) raved that it was the scariest film ever made.

That's quite a burden to put on any horror film, particularly one made for $11,000 that relies solely on sound design and old-fashion trickery to scare audiences. Certainly there will be those who see the movie and leave proclaiming "it's not that scary" and many will feel the film was overhyped--it's the same that happened with "Blair Witch" 10 years ago, even though this film's hype is centered less on convincing us that it really happened and more on convincing us that if we go we will be scarred for life.

Right out of the gate, let me acknowledge that Paramount has been clever in its roll-out of this movie, staging midnight screenings and urging fans to demand the film to go wide. I do fear, however, that all the buzz may ultimately cripple a movie that, at its core, works because it's so low key and old-fashioned.

Hype aside, "Paranormal Activity" deserves a nationwide roll-out. Director Olin Peli's debut is taut, creepy and terrifying at the right moments and every goosebump it puts on your forearms is rightfully earned.

The premise is beautiful in its simplicity. A young couple buys a camera to document strange occurrences in their home. The young woman has a history of paranormal experiences, dating back to when she was eight. The boyfriend reacts just like any man would--at first scoffing and then, when things get bad, refusing to ask for help and trying to solve the problem on his own. A psychic drops by to warn the couple of the seriousness of the events and clarifies that it may be a demon, and not a ghost, that is terrorizing the home.

The film is staged much like "Blair Witch" in that the daylight allows for exposition and discussion and the nighttime--when the camera is stationary--is when all the freaky stuff happens. I won't spoil any of the surprises in the film, but let's just say that whatever is haunting the young couple starts off cordial enough and then, towards the end, gets really, really nasty.

Placing the camera on the tripod seems like a simple stylistic device but it's unrelenting focus--a stationary camera can't turn away--becomes unnerving when things get truly terrifying. There are no clever edits to pull us away from the scene and the audience's eyes are drawn to every shadow and slight movement. Aside from some rudimentary practical effects, Peli doesn't engage in much flash...the suspense of waiting for something to happen, the jolt when it does and the fear of the unknown, the dark corners of the screen, are enough to unnerve audiences. When the film unfurls its most terrifying scenes they are sudden and matter-of-fact that it's easy to forget that none of this is real.

It's a wonderful piece of crafstmanship and Peli has a wonderful time playing the audience like a piano. The daytime scenes lull us into a sense of complacency and then, in the evening, Peli shows a great knack for drawing out the suspense and digging into deep fears of the unknown and the vulnerability of sleep, when we're unable to see what's happening around us. He gets natural reactions from his actors, both of whom create likable characters and sell the reality of the situation.

For the most part, the film is disciplined and intelligently crafted--there's even a clever reason why leaving the home would do no good. The suspense is thick and the terror erupts so suddenly that screaming is virtually guaranteed. Only in its final moments does the movie succumb to Hollywood pressure, leaving behind subtlety for one last shock, a splash of violence and an ill-advised CGI shot.

But by that point I was pretty willing to be reminded that "it's only a movie."