Where The Wild Things Are (Spike Jonze, 2009) PG

Although Maurice Sendak's cult children's fable could be read from start to finish within minutes, its dark undertones, vivid illustrations and wildly imaginative plot made it ideal for a cinematic adaptation. However, the means of actually achieving a film that combined the story's strengths as well as remaining loyal to its general warmth and simplicity has proved problematic. Over the years, many directors have expressed an interest in making a film version but all have eventually abandoned the mission, leading to the accepted opinion that Sendak's masterpiece was, after all, unfilmable. That is, until the master of the unfilmable, Spike Jonze, made the decision to tackle this leviathon, this 'Wild Thing'.

Jonze, renowned in his field for producing the seemingly absurd Being John Malkovich with outstanding aplomb, as well as delivering the critically lauded Adaptation and those two great Fatboy Slim videos, Praise You and Weapon Of Choice, was inarguably the right man for the job. If anyone could bring the Wild Things to life, it would be him. That's not to say Jonze escaped the enormous responsibility the project entailed. To turn a twenty-odd page book into a feature length film inevitably demanded some major tweaking and excessive filler material. So to create an acceptable adaptation for the book's cult followers seemed improbable, even by Jonze'a standards.

Fortunately, the fans needn't have worried. After working closely with Sendak, and utilising his unique but ever-likable auteur's touch, Jonze has crafted one of the greatest fantasy features to ever grace the big screen. Visually stunning, with a rich colour pallet and landscapes ranging from golden deserts to lush forests to wind-swept cliff faces, Jonze adequately reflects the fine detail of Sendak's original illustrations. Furthermore, the Wild Things themselves look, quite simply, perfect. Ferocious and teddy-like in equal measure, they exude emotion and charm, due also to the appropriately selected voice-cast that includes James Gandolfini and Forest Whittaker, as well as Six Feet Under's Lauren Ambrose and Little Miss Sunshine's Paul Dano. Sensibly, Jonze opted to use elaborate costumes courtesy of the Jim Henson Creature Workshop, giving the film a warm sense of realism that is lacking in the likes of James Cameron's CGI exrtravaganza, Avatar, the release of which closely follows Wild Things.

However, impressive as Sendak's living monsters are, the true standout star of Where The Wild Things Are has to be the young Max Records. Easily the most convincing child actor ever to feature in a lead role, Records surpasses even the likes of Hayley Joel Osmont. This was another possible problem for Jonze, the story is so heavily focussed on the character of Max that an unconvincing performer would taint the entire film. But Records delivers the perfect performance, wonderfully natural, overflowing with both wide-eyed innocence and wild rebellion, and most importantly, totally believable and utterly engaging.

In terms of narrative, Jonze has got it spot-on. The early scenes, which show Max's difficult relationships with his older sister and stressed-out mum (Katherine Keener), are executed with enough depth and attention to detail to fully establish the charcter's background and state-of-mind, yet remain relatively brief, allowing Jonze to swiftly present us with the spectacular Wild Thing's Island. Although we don't see the jungle sprouting within Max's bedroom (which would have been great to see), Jonze's substitution of a discovery of a rowing boat that transports Max to his dream world is equally suitable and adequately reflects the transition of reality to imagination. Similarly, the fleshing-out of the narrative is sensibly developed and extends the 'wild rumpus' of the original story to incorporate issues of broken families, difficult relationships, adolescence, violence, ambition and pretty much anything else you care to interpret.

Perhaps the only criticism to be made of Where The Wild Things Are is the fact that, although based on a children's story, it is not strictly a children's film. Indeed, while many youngsters would enjoy the sight of the fuzzy wild things hurling each other around and roaring themselves hoarse, it is unlikely that they would appreciate the slow, indie-style pace of the narrative, nor the subtle humour of the dialogue or the many darker elements of the film (the scene in which the Wild Things surround Max and threaten to eat him alive could easily drive a sensitive child to tears and nightmares). However, to cater to a younger audience would be to make the film overly syruppy which would hamper the loyalty to Sendak's original, dark work that Jonze so avidly adheres to. Wild Things, then, may be seen as a welcome reward for the book's original fans who will be nearing middle-age by this time, and who will doubtlessly appreciate Jonze'a stunningly faithful yet utterly original adaptation of what is clearly a timeless classic. 9.5/10

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus (Terry Gilliam, 2009) Cert. 12a

After an absence of half a decade, maverick director Terry Gilliam returns with a spectacular fantasy tale that stands as the very definition of imagination and originality, and a fitting swan-song for the late Heath Ledger. Much like his surreal masterpiece Brazil, Gilliam’s latest outing, The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus is a jumble of ideas; an epic adventure that blends together fantastical characters, breath-taking landscapes and captivating special effects, with plenty of eccentric charm and a healthy dose of dark, Python-esque humour.

The film follows the members of a mysterious travelling theatre company whose owner, the eponymous Dr Parnassus (Christopher Plummer) peddles his ability to guide the imagination of his customers. Despite his talents, Parnassus runs into trouble after making a wager with the devil (Tom Waits), and must battle to keep possession of his daughter, Valentina (Lily Cole). Aided by his fellow performers and mysterious stranger Tony (Heath Ledger), Parnassus endeavours to seduce five human souls via the power of imagination in order to win the bet. This, however, proves to be no easy task. The devil is sly and deceitful, while seemingly charming Tony fosters secrets of his own...

For the most part, Gilliam rises to the challenge of translating such a wondrous story to the big screen. Many of the film’s set-pieces are fantastic to behold; from enormous trees that shed glass bottles instead of leaves, to hot air balloons constructed from human faces and a forest of ladders that stretch beyond the clouds. The cast too is highly impressive; Plummer excels as the world-weary eccentric Parnassus, while Tom Waits is magnificent as the suave, moustachioed devil, Mr Nick, generating charm and malevolence in equal measure.

However, it is the performance of Ledger, and of his stand-ins Johnny Depp, Colin Farrell and Jude Law, that inevitably provokes the most interest. As Tony, his last ever role, Ledger proves as engaging and versatile as ever he was, while Depp et al put in solid performances as Tony’s various transformations; a plot-twist employed by Gilliam to salvage the film following Ledger’s untimely death.

Such complexities within the narrative are possibly the film’s only downfall. While the alterations regarding Ledger’s death remain a valiant and entirely necessary effort on Gilliam’s part, other plot ambiguities and overly-elaborate scenes result in a somewhat clunky, rambling tale. Nonetheless, Gilliam-fans will recognise this trait as one of his trademarks and so will not be deterred. Indeed, with a small amount of patience, for many this could prove to be the most impressive, and enjoyable, cinematic outings of the year. 7.5/10

Doubt (John Patrick Shanley, 2009) Cert. 15

Originally a Pulitzer Prize-winning play by director John Patrick Shanley, Doubt, set in 1964, is a story of corruption and sin in a New York Catholic school. Or is it? The great strength of the plot is that no true facts are ever revealed, such that the audience must decide for themselves what happened and whom is good or evil. Academy Award Winner Meryl Streep heads an incredibly strong leading trio, alongside Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Amy Adams, all of whom provide stellar performances and who do a more-than-adequate job of carrying the quiet yet powerful script to produce an entirely credible movie adaptation of Shanley’s masterful tale.

Streep stars as school principal Sister Aloysius, a no-nonsense traditionalist who believes that her pupils must be held on a tight leash, for the good of their souls. Offering an entirely different scope on life is Hoffman, as the seemingly good-natured Father Brendan Flynn, a priest who believes that the church must move with the times and be friendlier towards the children in its care if it is to retain its appeal and longevity. Manifested in Flynn’s beliefs is his affectionate relationships with his pupils, in particular Donald Miller, an African-American boy who suffers abuse and harassment at the hands of his white peers. And it is this specific relationship that is at the core of Doubt. A relationship that balances precariously between the affectionate and the abusive, that invites, and indeed demands, audience interpretation, and that fuels the wrath of Sister Aloysius when it is brought to her attention that Father Flynn called Donald Miller to the rectory for a “private matter”. Trapped in the middle of all this is Adams as young nun Sister James, innocent and open to manipulation by both sides. Both respecting and fearing Aloysius, and initially sharing her suspicions of Father Flynn, Sister James soon begins to lose faith in the certainty of her superior’s gross accusations, as her relationship with the accused, and her understanding of his views and methods, strengthen and develop.

Doubt is undeniably a very quiet film. Shanley employs great use of silence, implementing very little non-diegetic music. Tension is built through the silence, which is broken only by the script's brilliantly sharp dialogue, delivered superbly by the film’s universally outstanding cast. And it is the performances that make Doubt a truly impressive film, with the lead actors proving themselves entirely worthy of recognition. One of the most powerful scenes revolves around the discussion between Sister Aloysius and Donald Miller’s mother (Viola Davis). And, fantastic as the leading cast are, it may well be Davis who provides the film’s most astonishing and effective performance as a world-weary mother, desperately devoted to her son, whom she hopes will have a bright future if only he could graduate the school, but whose fate ultimately lies beyond her control and at the hands of Streep’s formidable Principal. Upon hearing Aloysius’s theory that Father Flynn has her son gripped in an indecent relationship, Davis, desperately wanting Donald to remain in the school so that he may graduate, replies, “let him have him then.” Tragic and unflinching, not to mention shocking in the extreme, this line epitomises the controversy and ambiguity that exists within Shanley’s immensely powerful story. A story that presents the devastating consequences of accusation without evidence and that openly challenges and questions the very nature of faith, certainty and of course, Doubt. 8.5/10

The Spirit (Frank Miller, 2008) Cert. 12a

With co-directors Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino, Frank Miller achieved success in revolutionising the comic-book genre through the stunning Sin City. This masterful piece of filmmaking blended the dark, noir-esque narrative of Miller's comic with abstract, stylish visuals and a fantastic cast, thus establishing firmly Frank Miller's status as one of the new legends of Hollywood. Unfortunately, said status may have been dashed forever due to one of the most unsatisfying, catastrophically misjudged films of recent times. This is The Spirit.

Miller's first solo outing actually begins rather well. Following a mysterious shot of a provocative, girating woman claiming to be the figure of 'death', we are introduced to Denny Colt (newcomer Gabriel Macht) whom we learn is a talented young cop who has returned from the dead as an immortal vigilante known as The Spirit, and whose sole duty it is to protect the city of his birth. Through the opening credits we are presented with the visually-arresting elements that made Sin City so striking (sudden switches to negative, isolation of red objects against black and white surroundings etc), not to mention an impressive collection of names including Samuel L Jackson aka 'the man-who-can-do-no-wrong' (until now) and renowned beauties Scarlett Johannson and Eva Mendes.

Unfortunately, however, it's all down-hill from here. The first key scene involves The Spirit, whilst investigating a shooting in a swamp, coming face-to-face with nemesis The Octopus (Samuel L Jackson), whose evil intentions are as muddy and unclear as the mire in which the pair battle. Jackson is utterly wasted, unable to showcase his talents in such a clumsily shot, badly-scripted mess. Instead he is reduced to popping up behind Macht like a pantomime villain, attacking him with a toilet seat and generally turning the film into more of a farce than it could be thought possible. Indeed, the entire film has the feel of a school play, combining wooden acting, hammy dialogue ('I'm gonna kill you all kinds of dead'), an incomprehensible stroyline and pathetic attempts at comedy - The Octopus' inept henchmen clones (Louis Lombardi) claiming the crown for most irritating and cringingly unfunny characters of any film of the past decade. In fact the only commendable contribution to The Spirit is, surprisingly, the lead man himself, the virtually-unknown Gabriel Macht. His role may be one-dimensional and void of any real emotion, but it is entirely suitable for the story, echoing the deadpan characteristics of the Batman prototype.

However, if Samuel L Jackson could not save The Spirit, Macht's valiant attempt is hardly going to make an impact. In the end, the widely acclaimed graphic novel by Will Eisner is dragged mercilessly through the mud by Miller's clear ineptitude as a solo director. His distinctive visual style is poorly utilised next to Sin City, which makes his solo failure appear all the more humiliating. While Jackson's Octopus attempts to provide an antagonist for The Spirit, it is Miller who ultimately winds up the villain of the piece. Once heralded as a rising star, this hideous mess may already have hammered the last nail into his coffin. His heart may have been in it, but his spirit has long since departed. 1.5/10