Film review; Where the Wild Things Are

I live in Melbourne. A few years ago, while I was a student, I worked in a call center. My supervisor at the time was an actress who would now and then talk about doing Shakespeare in the park and stuff like that.

 One day she excitedly announced to everyone that she had been cast in the Where the Wild Things Are movie, directed by Spike Jonze, which was going to be filmed in a forest outside Melbourne. It was all very exciting, I remember that she mentioned something about being flown to LA or Sydney or something to try on costumes.

Anyway I had lost contact with her as the years past. When I eventually got to see the movie I could only assumed she was the suit performer of the Goat character, because she was really short. She was maybe five foot tall, not midget short, but short.

But the strange thing was I couldn't find any evidence of her in the credits, Angus Sampson’s name popped up, he’s a semi-high profile actor in Melbourne, but the Goat was played by some bloke called Sonny.

Now I discover from the Vice film / soft porn clip site, that some balding slacker from the design department evidently took her spot, because according to Spike Jonze and Catherine Keener, my actress co-worker friend was too "overly trained". 

I can picture what happened on set, Sonny, Spike and Karen O kicking back together, shooting the shit, pulling a couple cones, fellating each others hipster credentials. They long for the time when they just did whatever they believed in and really were changing shit and blowing peoples minds. Like putting video cameras on skateboards or drawing pictures of sad bears in their bedroom. But instead they're forced to work in a business plagued by cliché and pre-conceived notions.

All the while they sneer at my thespian friend, who asks Spike too many questions about motivation and shit that's just so periphery.

Where the Wild Things Are, 5 out of 5 stars.