If you want to see a film in which a child goes into the snow because his mother gives a higher priority to pleasing the man in her life, in which psychological and spiritual insight is attained through encounters in the wilderness with talking animals and acts of symbolic violence and dismemberment, followed by a great coming together of souls, you can go see Lars van Trier’s ANTICHRIST, but it would probably be best to see Spike Jonze’s inventive adaptation of  WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE, the classic children’s book, which would spare you the explicit imagery and implicit misogyny of the former. Still, it is amazing to see the two films in tandem, as one is merely the evil twin of the other, the Jonze film holding up a strange mirror to van Trier’s perverse profundity.

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