Posts Tagged ‘anger’

Leave me Alone (a Crowhands comic)

brent

by Brent Braaten

leavemealone(as usual, click to enlarge)

Where the Wild Things Are

wtwta a review by Jason Wilson

Where the Wild Things Are (2009)
Directed by Spike Jonze
Screenplay by Spike Jonze and Dave Eggers
Based on the children’s book by Maurice Sendak
Starring Max Records, Catherine Keener, Mark Ruffalo, James Gandolfini, Lauren Ambrose, Forest Whitaker, Catherine O’Hara, Paul Dano, Chris Cooper.

Where The Wild Things Are manages to be a kid’s movie without being for children, if that makes sense. From the opening shots of Max chasing a dog around his house wielding a fork, you know you are in for something off the beaten path. Just how far off isn’t fully discovered until after the film ends and you sit in the darkened theatre wondering what it was you just witnessed.

While I am sure I read the book as a child I don’t remember it much except the artwork. No memory serves me that the book was a metaphor for a child’s loneliness and fear in a world he doesn’t understand. Maybe it wasn’t, it has been so long and if Spike Jonze and Dave Eggers were able to take a short children’s book and turn it into this, then they deserve any and all accolades they receive.

Max doesn’t have it easy, but what kid really does? Sure we can all say a kid who has a roof over his head and a parent or parents who care strongly has it good, but easy is a completely different story. Growing up is hard, it’s a fact of life. You find your own way to discover who you are and what the world means to you; you figure it out on your own. Sure you have teachers, peers and guardians to guide you but when it comes to putting the pieces together, you form your own interpretation in the end. That’s what Where The Wild Things Are represents best of all.

Max’s mother is seeing someone new and in an instance where he lacks control or understanding of what will happen, he climbs on the counter and starts screaming at her while her date sits awkwardly in the other room. The mom chases Max down, catches him, he bites her and she very understandably yells at him for being out of control. Max, mortified, flees and runs away as fast as he can. He finds a boat and sails away to a magical land filled with monsters! He becomes their king as they live an unruly life of their own and share a childlike view on the world.

Obviously this part is fantasy. The film never comes out and tells the audience that this was all in Max’s head, but it doesn’t need to be. The wild things he meets are what he viewed himself as in the moment he left. He thought he was a monster for biting his mother but at the same time resented her for changing things at home.

And after all, no adult hates change more than a child.

I remember when I was young and my folks packed up and we moved from one city to the next and a couple years later did it again. This was devastating to me. I cried and cried. I thought my world was over and resentment flowed and I became destructive likely breaking a few of my toys or saying awful, hateful things to my parents. The guilt that follows these outbursts holds some of the sharpest emotional pain possible. To think that you have hurt those you love is nearly unbearable.

The entire time spent with the wild things shows in his mind how he comes to terms with the changes going on with his own life. Max sees that just because things change doesn’t mean his world will end. He learns that no matter how much he hopes and wishes, there is no place on earth where bad or unpleasant things never occur.

While that may seem depressing for a kid’s movie, it isn’t. Max’s love for his mother only evolves through the course of his self-reflection. The monsters inside his mind will never go away for good because he needs them in order to figure his life out. They represent emotion, fear, reason, friendship knowledge and discovery; basically the monsters are experience.

where-wild-things-are-sun

People have been critical of the film saying it relies too heavily on the nostalgic element of having read the book as a child. The film is very nostalgic, but it certainly is not exclusive to those who read it as a child.

Like the fear of change and uprooting one’s self, Where The Wild Things Are reaches back to moments in our very childhoods that goes so much farther beyond the book than you’d think. Max escapes to his own little world like I’m sure all of us have in order to try to understand. He’s exhilarated, happy, curious and absolutely terrified with an obvious metaphor of wanting to return to the womb. Raise a hand if you’ve ever thought the words ‘I wish I had never been born’. Wow, the whole room!

Growing up is so difficult that to parlay that message in an image-laden film must be nearly impossible. This is but one interpretation of the happenings in the film because I related it to my own childhood and my own remembrances of acting out of control on occasion and deeply regretting what I had done. It’s a great film that is unlike any kid’s movie I’ve ever encountered and I doubt I fully grasp exactly how different and special it truly is.

PS. I can’t forget to mention the soundtrack by Karen O. Incredible. That coupled with Lance Acord’s cinematography elevate the value of this film even higher

Dear Asshole #2

dear-assholelogo1

by John McIntyre

Dear Asshole is a weekly column by John McIntyre sharing his angry and often politically incorrect opinions on everything ranging from pop culture to politics. It has a tone of sarcasm in case you didn’t notice. The opinions below reflect his views and not neccessarily those of the rest of Unfiltered Smoke, however funny we may find them.

Dear Gilles Duceppe,

Shut up. Shut the fuck up. You lost the goddamn war you smug little prick, we’ll give you the land back right after you return it to the First Nations. Quit making it so easy for the right wing you selfish, power-hungry bastard.

My party’s success is predicated upon the faults of our bullshit first past the post electoral system! Vive le Québec libre!

My party’s success is predicated upon the faults of our bullshit first past the post electoral system! Vive le Québec libre!

Dear Stephen Harper,

Like seeing Obama standing up against Iran with Sarkozy and Brown at his heels? Feeling snubbed little buddy? Sorry, you’re not a wartime Consiglieri, Tom.

Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper, crying ever so softly

Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper, crying ever so softly

Dear Michael Ignatieff,

You are in it for yourself. Every politician is in it for themselves, you hawkish man-bird. We don’t need an election now, and the Conservatives will still win a minority because your party fucked up so much in Quebec. And another thing. True and Patriot Love? That’s what you title your new book? What the hell do you think you are, Canadian Jesus? Christ that’s corny.

I think this picture speaks for itself.

I think this picture speaks for itself.

Dear Jack Layton,

Go back to Russia you commie-pinko bastard, was Gorbachev a tender lover? Socialism equals Satanism Jack, didn’t you get the memo? We’ve got to get that bloated government off our back–all the regulation has given us a serious lack of ponzi schemes and mortgage crises. What’s the NDP ever done anyway? Universal health care and stronger unions, more like universal hammers and sharper sickles, am I right?

That shirt originally said NDP but I cleverly replaced it a hammer and sickle. It’s a joke you see, implying through hyperbole that Jack Layton is a communist.

That shirt originally said NDP but I cleverly replaced it a hammer and sickle. It’s a joke you see, implying through hyperbole that Jack Layton is a communist.

Dear Elizabeth May,

You’d better win that seat next time or you’re screwed, and the party’ll probably go down with you. Man running against Peter MacKay was stupid. That may have been your only shot and you blew it.

Ah-yuk.

Ah-yuk.

Dear Toronto,

I’m sick of walking through random clouds of a stench I can only describe as “fart juice.”

Couldn’t find the picture of him shooting at a cloud of flu virus

Couldn’t find the picture of him shooting at a cloud of flu virus

Dear Olivia Wilde,

So what if your husband’s a handsome, successful musician, filmmaker and prince? I got heart baby.

Too much sexy.

Too much sexy.

Dear Fame remake,

Jesus Murphy are you unnecessary.

Maybe they had todo something with all the gay left over from the first one?

Maybe they had todo something with all the gay left over from the first one?

Dear David Cronenberg,

Why are you remaking The Fly? Videodrome, Scanners, Naked Lunch, Eastern Promises, you’re the goddamn bastion of great Canadian filmmaking, and now you’re remaking your own damn movie? Are hamburgers going to start eating people? Nothing is what it seems!

Too creepy to make such a shitty move.

Too creepy to make such a shitty move.

Dear Hasbro,

Stop making every goddamn toy and board game into a movie you asshats.

Tool.

Tool.

Dear live action Barbie movie,

*cough*

*cough*