“Where the Wild Things Are” holds a special place in the hearts of many children and adults roaming the world today. It’s a simple, yet magical story told through fantastical images of the creatures, 338 words and of course — Max, who captures emotions we’ve all felt while growing up and integrating the world around us into the lives we still haven’t quite grown into.

Finally adapted to live-action — as live action as Henson Creature Shop and flawless CG faces can be — this book has become larger than life via the wonders of Hollywood.

The film captures this flash into the mind of a child perfectly in its opening. Max gets to “play” with some older kids as he vies for his older sister’s attention — whose “fun” involves the notion that you must be an obnoxious, know-it-all young adult. The older kids go too far and collapse Max’s snow fort while he is still inside it — leaving Max with tears welling-up in his eyes — then abruptly abandoning him in order to avoid the emotional little guy.

Later, he dons his boy-in-wolf’s-clothing pajamas to get his mother’s attention from her boyfriend, biting her and running away from home.

For that, Max is sent to bed without any supper. There, a jungle grows transforming it into the land of the wild things.

From here we travel across the sea to the island of the wild things — aka Southern Australia.

The story plays out after the fashion of “The Wizard of Oz” complete with the same messages. Each creature represents some facet of Max’s personality or the people around him. His iniquities shine in the creature Carol (voiced by James Gandolfini — imagine Tony Soprano’s anger as well as his misunderstood want to be accepted and appreciated poured into a giant anamatronic muppet). While this does allow for some funny and slightly heart-warming moments, the message is far different from the Maurice Sendak’s book.

Max becomes the creatures’ king, after a wonderfully creepy scene where he is almost eaten and ends up seeing the bones of previous kings. Max sees these lost and ID-driven creatures as nothing more than a means to fulfill his own desires for friendship.

He doesn’t care that they are obviously damaged goods with their emotions, need for compassion and direction — though these are personifications of Max’s life. This is not the type of message you send kids, but your inner child will call out in jubilation as they run rampant through the forest.

Carol’s desire for a peaceful utopia is demanded by Max but only for his own selfish want to play. Max continues to abuse his power, picking on the littlest creature and wandering off for new adventures to leave Carol without direction once again.

This theme of Max being everything which torments his real life while also trying to be everything he appears to cherish goes on for a fairly slow-paced 101 minutes. Any moral lessons to teach children or redeem Max’s feral actions quickly surface only to be promptly pounded, mercilessly into the ground. This movie teaches you to be selfish, lash out and feel for others only so long as it helps you. At one marvelous point, Max gets eaten, sort of, and something in me cheered. Seriously, this movie will either frighten or bore small children.

Apart from being visually stimulating and having a pretty cool soundtrack (by Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs), this movie is better suited for the indie or hipster crowd, rather than families or the average 20-to-40-year-old wanting a childhood memory translated into something more.

Spoiler Alert! If you don’t remember what happens to the wild things, you will want to skip the rest.

Like the book, the story ends with Max abandoning the creatures when he realizes he misses his mom and leaving them in a more damaged state than before his arrival. These naïve and broken creatures bid Max well wishes and hope to be recognized as something more than merely odd playthings to be toyed with and tossed aside when their usefulness has dwindled. Max’s cruelty goes even so far as to see Carol one last time and saying nothing to him. Instead, he smiles as he sails away from those who offered to take him in — talk about a bad message for kids or youth.

The icing on the fickle-Max cake comes at his return home. The kid ran away from home because his over-worked, stressed-out, divorcee mom was talking with a guy rather than fawning over him, and what does he get when she sees him? Chocolate cake.

The kid runs away because he isn’t the center of attention, acting like an uncivilized barbarian and is rewarded with the mother’s “love for her child” through hugs and dark chocolaty goodness. I’m not one to demand moral behavior at all times, but he needs to be punished.

The last thing this world needs is more youth concerned only with themselves, who abuse others and toss responsibility to the wind. But then, what should I have expected with a main character who dresses in a wolf costume, growling and snarling, to chase a pet terrier around the house while brandishing a fork?

Don’t worry, you can read the rest and not know the end.

It may seem like I didn’t enjoy this movie, but that is entirely unsound. I thought this was an excellent film and encourage everyone to go see it — but please, go see it for the loveable costumes, beautiful scenery, wonderful cinematography, fine acting by Max and interesting approach to a classic story. Just remember you may want to bring some Prozac for after the movie when you have that uneasy feeling due to content and a theme overtaking the jubilant disposition you had when first you heard “Where the Wild Things Are” was coming to a theater near you.

—Gabriel Stoffa is a senior in communication studies and political science