I cried at the end of Where the Wild Things Are. I guess I expected the film to be about the son of divorced parents whose escape was an imaginary world of happy monsters … you know, upbeat. Turns out the heart of the film was more reality than fantasy. The monsters, it seems, had very complex emotions … human emotions. Okay, if they felt threatened by you, they’d eat you. But otherwise, they suffered from a terrible sense of isolation resulting in sadness, anger, bitterness, and out of control rage. The relationships between them tapped into those emotions...
