
Stop motion animation is a technique best reserved for perfectionists that can obsess over detail and don’t mind spending days on mere moments of action. Henry Selick (The Nightmare Before Christmas) must have assembled an army of people who fit that profile to have created a world as rich and nuanced as Coraline’s. The film is a visual triumph and that is only the beginning.
Author, Neil Gaiman is clearly someone who has studied the Fantasy form. The story of Coraline fits perfectly into the architecture of coming-of-age fantasies. Coraline manages to be an original and believable character, while finding a sisterly resemblance with Dorothy, Alice and Ofelia. Like those young ladies (from Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland and Pan’s Labyrinth) Coraline is a girl on the verge of womanhood; angsty, intelligent, surrounded by the monotony of distracted parents and a generally mundane landscape that contains mysteries around certain corners. Just like those classics, Coraline’s curiosity and frustration drive her to a secret, inner-world that is full of magic and danger.
One of the things that make Coraline feel like a new work is the center of her home in her adventures. Coraline doesn’t fall down a rabbit hole, or get tossed into Oz by a tornado. She merely falls asleep and is awoken by the disturbing notion of a secret door in her home that leads to another part of the house. The concept stirs an archetypal sense of awe felt by anyone who has dreamed of discovering new wings in their house. It is unsettling because as symbols (like Danielewski has shown) our homes are our psyches. To enter a dream where you dust off a hidden door in your house, is to creep into a repressed memory, or a hidden desire.
Like Alice, Coraline finds another world that is an antidote for the strains of daily life. It is full of signposts and artifacts that point to her regular life. The world on the other side of the house is even full of two parents much like Coraline’s, only they take interest in what she says, cook her extraordinary meals and seem to have little in mind other than her pleasure. Her real-life neighbors that were once great entertainers, but are now elderly has-beens, take on magical skill in this other world.
The colorful and fantastic reality she finds is just as seductive to the viewer as it is for Coraline. As she switches back and forth, her normal reality seems all too dreary. The world on the other side of the house just looks perfect, except it is somehow a bit unsettling. One problem is the improved dopplegangers in the magic world have buttons where their eyes should be and their features look eerily similar to hand-sewn dolls. They also have an overwhelming interest in her staying with them forever.
The conflict Coraline faces between her normal reality and her newfound magical one comes to a head in a series of dazzling spectacles. The powerful psychological imagery betrays the film’s “kid movie” status and offers up something deeper, something that maybe too disturbing for young children. Selick uses every scene in the fantasy as a launch pad for visual fireworks as the magical world transitions from sublime to sinister.
The film turns itself inside out as Coraline is forced to confront the true nature of the place she has discovered and avoid being taken prisoner forever-until the very fabric of the film seems to rip. It closes with a satisfying sense of exhaustion as Selick leaves no symbol un-mined and no image unperfected. Coraline is a truly remarkable addition to a rich cannon of classic children’s films. The story’s archetypal resonance is perfectly matched to the films painterly beauty. Did I mention that it’s in 3-D?
*****