Where the Wild Things Are — Spike Jonze's long-awaited adaptation of the beloved children's book by Maurice Sendak has been the subject of so much speculation over the past several years, it's probably appropriate that big questions remain even after the movie's end credits have rolled. Chief among them is this: who was this movie made for? Although admirable in some ways, Wild Things is likely to alienate young children even as it disappoints adult fans of Being John Malkovich and Adaptation.

Consisting of a mere nine sentences, Sendak's book is less a blueprint for a film than it is a Rorschach test; out of necessity, any filmmaker would have to bring his own interpretation of its indelible images, as well as a structure in which to contain them. It's all too easy to imagine the blockbuster kid-pic Wild Things of Warner Bros. executives' dreams, complete with slick 3-D CGI, broad slapstick and gigantic action set-pieces, and it's to Jonze's credit that he's instead gone for something more difficult, dreamy and lo-fi — or at least as lo-fi as a $90-million studio movie gets.

Working with a script he co-wrote with Dave Eggers (Away We Go), Jonze does a credible job of conveying the mind-set of a nine-year-old boy — in this case, bratty Max (Max Records), who throws one tantrum too many while his mother (Catherine Keener) is entertaining her suitor (Mark Ruffalo). Max runs away from home, deep into the woods and across the ocean by sailboat, finally arriving on an island inhabited by large, furry creatures — monsters from the id, representing all of Max's fears and uncontrollable emotions.

Max convinces the wild things — in particular Carol (James Gandolfini), the most volatile of all — that he is their king, and uses his newfound power as most pre-teen boys would — to instigate dirt-clod fights and order the construction of a giant fort. Despite his royal standing, however, he is powerless to prevent his new world from crumbling under the combined weight of neuroses, personality conflicts and bruised feelings accumulated by his furry friends.

Wild Things is not without its share of haunting moments — including a standout sequence in which Carol reveals a massive model he's built from clay and sticks, representing his idealized vision of the way life should be — but its melancholy tone takes a turn for the dreary as the on-screen action grows more repetitive. Aimlessly trudging through woods or desert, sniping and clawing at each other, Carol and his fellow wild things come to resemble the H.R. Pufnstuf crew on downers. Sendak caused a minor uproar this week when he crudely dismissed the idea that the film might be too scary for children, but he may have a point. Most kids will be too bored to be scared.

Law Abiding Citizen — When slick district attorney Jamie Foxx cuts a plea deal with one of the lowlifes who murdered Gerard Butler's wife and daughter, Butler embarks on a Death Wish-style revenge spree that even Charles Bronson might consider a wee bit excessive.

The Stepfather — Just when you thought (and hoped, and prayed) that Hollywood had finally run out of '80s horror movies to remake, along comes Nip/Tuck's Dylan Walsh in this update of the 1987 thriller starring Terry O'Quinn as a family man with murder in his heart.

New York, I Love You — From the producers of Paris, je t'aime comes this like-minded collection of short films about love set in the Big Apple. Contributing filmmakers include Brett Ratner, Natalie Portman and Mira Nair — but not Scarlett Johansson, whose directorial debut wound up on the cutting-room floor.

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