The current roster of Hollywood dreck doesn't hold a lot of promise. The one possibility is Where the Wild Things Are. Beloved childhood story, proven director who is a good fit for the subject matter, intriguing trailers. Hope kept alive with the Rotten Tomatoes freshness rating of 69% and Metacritic score of 71.
I was just about to commit to the idea of seeing it this weekend. Then I happened to read Katie McCollow's blog. Opening line from her latest post:
Just got back from Where the Dull, Whiny Bastards Are.No, she didn't just get back from a taping of "This American Life" on NPR. Sadly, she was returning from the only chance I had for a movie this weekend. Excerpt from the rest of her highly entertaining, nail in the coffin review:
Max and the demons spend the next 5000 hours or so working through their issues of alienation, abandonment and disappointment. I know, it sounds super fun, but trust me, it wasn't. Like I said, the best children's stories take on deep issues, but they do it in an entertaining way. This movie, on the other hand, was like having front-row seats into some unhappy family's therapy session. If only Spike Jonz had remembered the wise words of Mary Poppins: "A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down." It was so stupefyingly dull, I was begging for someone to come out and shoot Bambi's mom.