This film jumps around between gravely disturbing, mind-numbingly tedious, naively innocent, and severely depressing. Our nearly seven-year-old daughter and her friend were bored to tears, our two-year-old was freaked out, and our whole family felt simply awful afterwards. What a waste of time, money, nerves, and my 35th birthday!
(Warning! Minor spoilers follow—as if anything could spoil the viewing of this movie more than the movie itself.)
The film's main message seems to be that just because your parents get divorced, or your monstrous girlfriend moves out, or your older sister starts hanging out with other friends instead of you, or your mom starts dating again, or, worst of all, she decides to cook frozen corn instead of "real" corn ... does not mean that it is acceptable behavior for you to trash someone's bedroom, bite someone's shoulder, destroy someone's house, or tear someone's arm off. If only you would finally pull back that wolf hood and realize that your demented actions have exhausted your poor mother (and an entire audience).
The filmmakers somehow manage to deliver their message in a simultaneously heavy-handed and vague way. Most viewers will not grasp it, and those few who do will probably not have need of it. If you dare watch this cinematic abomination—which life-sucking action I would never recommend—please understand that you will be subjected to displays of emotional instability the likes of which have not been witnessed since Anakin Skywalker graced the screen. At least Anakin had a cool lightsaber to vent his frustrations; besides using a fork and his teeth, our dear friend Max can do nothing but track snow into the house, defiantly stand on the kitchen counter, and conjure up a pile of dysfunctional overgrown tater tots (and a goat) to help him explore every ugly facet of his consciousness.
You should also be prepared for some ambiguity: I believed for an overlong period that Max's older sister was actually some across-the-street neighbor that Max had a crush on, so imagine my surprise when Max's mother suddenly asked the girl to clear her things off the table for dinner! Another confusing bit is the fact that the main tater tot-creature is named Carol even though he is male, and this character is first seen when he is destroying houses for a reason which will remain unclear unless you can decipher his shouts amidst all the bangs, booms, and gnashing of teeth.
The movie has an air of being steeped in symbolism or in child psychology, but really all that comes across is alarming juvenile psychopathy with a shallow, incomplete, and one-sided resolution.
Several inconsistencies appear in the film, the most upsetting of which has to do with physical injury. When one character is sharply struck with a dirt clod, his resulting wound and suffering are clearly evident; yet when another character loses his arm in a scene which is not graphic but still gruesome, the filmmakers conveniently gloss over any expected pain and replace it with a cheesy joke. How inappropriate and insulting!
The movie is not at all a delightful adaptation of a beloved children's book. It provides absolutely no entertainment for children or adults. Its seeming claims to educational value are far from viable. It embodies a perfect recipient of the complaint relegated to poor films: "That's two hours of my life I'll never get back!"
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