Call me old fashioned; I hate movie adaptations of children’s books. I also hate universal statements.
I'm a big fan of telling a story with the best possible vehicle for that story; period. Some stories should be movies; some should be stage plays, some should be poetry, picture books or chapter books. But rarely, rarely, have I seen a story that works in multiple vehicles. The required metamorphoses is grossly magnified with children’s books because they are simple, linear and generally lacking the multi-layered complexity required for a feature film.
The movie adaptations of How the Grinch Stole Christmas and The Cat in the Hat are perfect examples of botched lobotomies intended to wring more dollars out of an already successful franchise. Shame on Dr. Seuss' widow, Audrey Geisel, for giving life to these atrocities, but good for her on closing the door to another Frankenstein. Following the premier of The Cat in the Hat, I believe she was overheard saying, “I hate Mike Meyers” along with some other very nasty things that will not be quoted here.
But why are they so bad?
In addition to Dr. Seuss, take Jumanji, Zathura, Polar Express among others. The original printed book is not robust enough to support a feature-length movie. So the writers introduce sub-plots, extra characters and whatever else is needed. The result is a cobbled-together monstrosity that has become something other than what it was intended to be in the first place.
And now, in holding with my anti-universal statement statement: I may, just maybe rescind my policy temporarily for Sendak’s live-action Where the Wild Things Are.
The trailer looks phenomenal, but clearly includes numerous extra-curricular activities. The “extras” when Max is with the Wild Things don’t seem to bother me as much because of the fantastic world Max enters in to. My psyche seems to accept those elements more easily; what I see from the trailer doesn’t change my own imaginations of that world. However, I am terrified by what appears to be a concocted sub-plot of Max’s life in the real world, his mom, school and friends. I’m terrified because that sub-plot seems to hold a great deal of power and ability to totally transform the story into something that it shouldn’t be.
So maybe I’ll see it; maybe I won’t. Regardless, you should check out Terrible, Yellow Eyes, a wonderful tribute blog by Cory Godbey to celebrate Sendak's genius.
