Where the Wild Things Are (review)
Will there be a bigger disappointment for me this year than Spike Jonze’s *Where the Wild Things Are*? Gosh, I hope not: I’m not sure my heart could take it.
Will there be a bigger disappointment for me this year than Spike Jonze’s *Where the Wild Things Are*? Gosh, I hope not: I’m not sure my heart could take it.
Did I get to all those screeners and VOD movies I wanted to watch last week? No, of course not. There just aren’t enough hours in the day or the week. If only I could get away with not sleeping, it’d help. But I can’t. And here we are with another week beginning, and I’m … more…
I’ve been seesawing with myself on Street Kings since… well, since I was sitting in the screening room watching it. It’s not an easy movie to recommend — I can’t honestly be totally gung-ho on it — but it’s not an easy movie to dismiss, either.
A movie is never more of a crushing disappointment than when you’ve gotten your hopes up, when against your better judgment you’ve bought into the hype and the advertising and the how-can-it-miss high concept. Imagine how sad the entire geek community is going to be if Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man sucks. (But it can’t suck, right? Right? I mean, it’s Sam Raimi. It’s Spider-Man. Please, whatever movie gods there are, don’t make it suck. Don’t do that to us.)