I'd been looking forward to this movie since I first saw the trailer. I loved the book as a child. I remember the book carrying a undercurrent of melancholy for me. My expectations going into it were this: lots of eye-candy visuals, and the kind of emotions I love in Tim Burton movies. Where the Wild Things Are did not disappoint me on either of these counts. The wolf PJs were so delightfully Right. There were moments sprinkled throughout the movie that captured pages from the book nigh-perfectly. I laughed and I cried. I squeaked with delight at the imagery.
Going to see this was good timing for me. I know I've been waxing emo so far this week. Indulging that train of thought might act as something of a purgative for it.