Damn that John Hughes for choosing yesterday to die on us! I had in-laws swoop in from out of town at just the moment I learned of Hughes’ death, which necessitated that I rush together that obit. But what really stung is that, it was one of those instances where I kind of wanted to spend the evening with our Pajiba peeps (which basically consists of reading through your comments, smiling and commiserating and basking in a rare moment of Pajiban levity), instead of discussing driving directions with family members who’d never heard of John Hughes.
But Friday morning brings a new source of happiness and joy and reason to go on living in a post John-Hughes’ world: The second trailer for Where the Wild Things Are. There’s a lot more dialogue in this one, and you get a better sense of what to expect from the movie. But that Arcade Fire song is still in it (has there ever been a better trailer song, ever?), and it makes me so goddamn exuberant that not even Jay’s contrariness can dampen my spirits. It’s The Dark Crystal and The Princess Bride and Neverending Story and Maurice Sendak all rolled up into two minutes and 31 seconds of effervescent joy.
So, commenters and readers alike: Pick at spelling mistake; take issue with our overhyping of this film; start a race war; bitch about some ad you don’t like; mock us for being pretentious; or for not being substantive enough. I don’t care. I’ll read all your complaints, and I’ll do it with a smile on my face. Because in a little browser window up in the corner of my screen, I’ll be watching this trailer again. And again. And when that monster says, “I’ll eat you up, I love you so,” I’ll might just get a little misty.