Every twentysomething sucker around will have read Where The Wild Things Are as a tiddler, and it’s basically what happens when your child is on Ritalin.

In this frothingly-anticipated adaptation of a children’s tale by Maurice Sendak, a little boy named Max retreats into a world of giant and friendly monsters who throw each other about like sacks of children.

The creatures are such half-wits that they decide to crown little Max as their king and leave their future in the hands of a delusional child with wombat pyjamas.

There’s a lot of eye-candy waiting in this surreal and family-friendly adventure, strange landscapes and state of the art graphics will hit you like a whiff of your toddler’s opium pipe and you’ll be left with monsters of your own. Where the Wild Things Are is a film best watched with wife and child, it’s probably not okay to tell your friends.

[story by Alex de Moller]