Where the Wild Things Are is a place where children go when there's too much sadness in their lives.

Nine-year-old Max is a lonely kid who no one in his life has any time for.

After a big fight with the family, he projects himself onto the open sea in a skiff to an imaginary island inhabited by 9-foot hairy clawed creatures just tearing up everything in sight.

Mad has to convince them that he's their king to avoid being eaten.

I liked merging fantasy with the real world, making it totally believable for a great film.

Directed well by the amazing Spike Jones and with good acting, Maurice Sendak's 20-page, 336-word children's classic plods along at a snail's pace, not really explaining anything.

Is it about the duality of nature? The pent-up anger of nine-year-olds? Or the benefits of communication between humans and monsters?

Anyway you look at it, it's a depressing fantasy that gets more downbeat as the story unfolds.

Do we really need to spend so much time inside Max's head?

Where the Wild Things Are is probably one of the most visually interesting, inventive films of the year.

It's a good family picture: it involves viewers of all ages on different levels -- on how kids think and how they feel.

It celebrates childhood in all its unruly glory.

The entire movie speaks on a level that is imaginative and disturbing.

There's no easy answer to the sadness that the young star and the wild things are feeling.

In the end, after all is said and done, he learns in the process about the hardships and rewards of being part of a family.