Don’t let the facade of the PG rating fool you: “Where the Wild Things Are” is most certainly not a movie for children.

Directed by Spike Jonze (“Adaptation,” “Being John Malkovich”) and based on Maurice Sendak’s 10-sentence-long classic children’s book, “Where the Wild Things Are” is a dark, abstract film with inescapable moments of morose, self-reflecting despair, offering introspection on the tribulations of a boy’s childhood.

Max (now 12-year-old Max Records) is a troubled young boy, with a divorced mother (Catherine Keener) who’s dating a new man (Mark Ruffalo), an older sister (Pepita Emmerichs) who doesn’t stand up for him and a vivid imagination. He’s extremely unhappy with the situation he’s in and takes his anger out on his family.

When Max’s sister lets one of her friends destroy his igloo while he’s inside, Max runs into her room, covered in snow and wrecks the place, breaking gifts he made for her while dripping the melting snow everywhere. Max may be the protagonist, but he’s most certainly not the hero. His anger is vindictive and sinister, his screams shrill, his actions reprehensible.

In short, Max is young, and he is angry, which comes through clearly — so true to life that at times it’s discomforting.

When Max makes a fort out of bed sheets in his room and tries to share it with his mother, who’s distracted by her date, he throws himself into a fit of epic proportions, which eventually leads to him biting his mother. Max, shocked by the terrible thing he has done, is severely scolded by his mother and runs away. He soon finds a boat and sails off to where the Wild Things are, where he is declared king after he fabricates a story to the creatures inhabiting the island.

The Wild Things, which were brought to life with the use of Jim Henson puppetry for the bodies and computer animation for the faces, are beautifully done. They’re monsters first and foremost, inhabiting a dilapidated forest, living in huts and threatening to eat Max. But they have a more gentle, naive side that allows them to fit into Max’s sense of the world. Jonze uses each one as a walking representation of each aspect of Max’s personality, providing for Max an emotional mirror, which can be a frightening thing.

Jonze does a great job not adapting the famous children’s book but instead elaborating on it, along with co-writer Dave Eggers.

The film has its happy moments, where the sheer, carefree joy of being a child shines through, capturing the true essence of childhood glee. Yet the focus seems to be on the complicated feelings of what it’s like to be a child and the gradual loss of innocence. Even when things start out happy, they end ugly, with yelling matches and hurt feelings.

In a few instances, the Wild Things commit some very violent acts, seeming to hurt each other and the creatures surrounding them, but then they come out fine, most of the time. It’s confusing, to say the least — especially trying to understand the dynamics of how these Wild Things function, perhaps reflecting the chaos inside Max’s head.

When Max escapes to where the Wild Things are, he’s doing quite opposite. The trip is anything but an escape, forcing both Max and the audience to realize the harsh reality of what it means to be independent, to be out in the world, surrounded by people or monsters or what have you, alone; to lose the innocence of childhood, while still having a figment of the idea in the back of your head.

It’s all very real, which translates to a very sad and emotional picture.

Reach the reporter at pmelbour@asu.edu.