I have mixed feelings about Where the Wild Things Are, the big-screen adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s beloved children’s book (a childhood favorite of mine). On the one hand, I agree with many of the critics who are calling it way too gloomy and whiny. But on the other, I’m fascinated by the big creatures, of course (Carol, Judith, Ira and all the others exist on the screen, thanks to giant puppets), but also by the uncondescending attention to the feelings of a child. Max (played very nicely by Max Records) is a young misfit, a 9-year-old loner who creates his own worlds, like snow castles in his own backyard. When his sister’s friends destroy the castle in the middle of a playful tussle, he tearfully thrashes her room, to the chagrin of her mother (Catherine Keener). Later that night, he’s sent to bed because of bad behavior, and ends up instead as the king of a magical island full of giant beasts. Instead of going for the loud, garish Cat in the Hat movie approach, director Spike Jonze (from Jackass and Being John Malkovich) creates a grave, melancholy mood. Much of the movie is shot in earth colors, sometimes looking up at things, as if taking a child’s point-of-view. It’s fascinating stuff, but I wish there was some fun to go along with the sadness. Even when the characters get into a pretend-war, somebody ends up getting hurt. So it’s a mixed bag, but one worth seeing, even though I’m sure kids would prefer watching “Up” on DVD instead.