Back in 2009, LAIKA Studio dropped its first stop-motion feature, Coraline, written and directed by the brilliant Henry Selick (of The Nightmare Before Christmas fame). The adaptation, based on Neil Gaiman’s (The Sandman) 2002 novella, tells the story of a lonely girl who stumbles into a dreamy world that’s both exciting and, well, kinda scary. This delightfully dark fairy tale blends horror elements with family-friendly fun, and almost 14 years later, Coraline is still hitting hard and capturing hearts.
The Jones family trades Pontiac, Michigan, for a big pink Victorian house—the Pink Palace Apartments—in rural Oregon. Coraline (Dakota Fanning), an adventurous and seriously unhappy 11-year-old, clearly wasn’t feeling the move. Her overworked parents, Mel (Teri Hatcher) and Charlie (John Hodgman), are gardening writers. (Sound familiar, millennials? These stressed-out parents are sadly relatable.) As far as Coraline is concerned, her parents are only busy being miserable and boring.
The old house is drab, with muted colors and cobwebs. Coraline, with her electric blue hair and bright orange and yellow wardrobe, definitely stands out. She’s endlessly curious and bored out of her mind, but she’s actually surrounded by some interesting folks. The downstairs neighbors, April Spink (Jennifer Saunders) and Miriam Forcible (Dawn French), are two aging former actresses with sing-songy voices and a pack of living and deceased Scottish terriers. Upstairs lives Mr. Bobinsky (Ian McShane), a former circus performer who trains jumping mice. None of them get her name right, but they sure do drop some cryptic warnings.
While exploring the grounds, she meets a slinky black cat and its semi-owner, the landlord’s grandson, Wyborne “Wybie” Lovat (Robert Bailey Jr.), who’s the only kid around. Coraline finds him annoying and intriguing. Wybie wasn’t in the book; he was created just for the film to give Coraline someone to talk to and to give her a creepy doll that looks just like her.
After wandering around her new home, Coraline discovers a small door that opens to a brick wall. But at night, it becomes a portal to a parallel universe, where it’s always nighttime, with glowing lights and dreamy colors. At first, she’s wary of the happier, button-eyed versions of her parents, but she starts to enjoy herself when she realizes this world revolves around her.
Literal gravy trains, mango milkshakes on demand (ick!), and even wackier versions of her eccentric neighbors keep Coraline entertained. The Other Mother made sure Other Wybie couldn’t talk, which is pretty disturbing. But Coraline is too caught up in the Other Mother’s love-bombing to really care. The Other Cat becomes her world-hopping companion, and here he can talk (in Keith David’s lovely voice).
Returning to the dull real world only intensifies Coraline’s restlessness. But each time she goes back through that door, the Other-verse feels off. Then, when she learns what it takes to stay there, she’s totally out. Things get even more surreal when the Other Mother doesn’t get her way, and all the fantastical “otherness” starts to crumble, making the atmosphere less lively (kinda like when Westview got glitchy in WandaVision). Reality might be a bummer, but the fantasy world comes at a cost.
The Other Mother’s terrifying true form, the Beldam, is a sharp and pointy spider-like creature desperate for the love of unhappy children. It taps into our childhood fear of being tricked by a sinister force pretending to be our parent(s). Maybe we grow out of that specific fear, but Coraline definitely brings it back. Gaiman told Entertainment Weekly in 2013, “I’m glad I wrote a book that has scary things in it and things that are worth being scared of and tells you that you should be brave, that you can persist, and you can triumph.”
The beauty of Coraline is amplified knowing the massive amount of work that went into the painstakingly handcrafted sets, character designs, and stop-motion animation. The enchanting, melancholic music by Bruno Coulais (Wolfwalkers, Wendell & Wild) is somehow both soothing and creepy. A children’s choir usually isn’t this unsettling. Coulais described the music in the beginning as “very quiet and realistic because it’s a realistic world.” But it changes as the film progresses. “And little by little the music becomes quite scary by the end of the movie.”
Like any successful movie, there’s been talk of a sequel for years. As much as I love Coraline, I don’t think it needs one because the story has a satisfying ending. Sure, we’re left with some questions. But I don’t need the answers.
Coraline is a weird and wonderful story, with stunning stop-motion visuals and haunting music that heightens the already eerie atmosphere. It’s more than just a classic careful-what-you-wish-for tale. For kids, it’s the perfect gateway into the dark fantasy and horror genres. Henry Selick and Neil Gaiman are storytelling geniuses on their own. Together, their styles create one whimsical film.
Coraline is available to stream on The Roku Channel and to rent on Prime Video.
Cassondra Feltus is a St. Louis-based freelance writer best known for film, television, and pop culture analysis which has appeared on BlkCosmo Blerds, WatchMojo, and The Take. She loves naps, Paul Rudd, and binge-watching the latest series with her two gorgeous pups – Harry and DeVito.
