Director: Henry Selick
Runtime: 100 minutes
Rated: PG
Distribution: Focus Features
Review by Aaron Simpson

Coraline, nearly 4 years in the making, is a new stop-motion animated feature from first-timer LAIKA and Focus Features, and it debuts in theaters (900 of them in 3D) this Friday, February 6th. The story of a young girl who moves to Ashland, Oregon only to discover that her house is full of magical secrets was adapted from Neil Gaiman’s (The Sandman) book of the same name. While the locations have changed (the book was set in the UK), Henry Selick (The Nightmare Before Christmas) went to great lengths to preserve Gaiman’s original intent. The results are his efforts are uneven, and unlikely to capture the type of box office rapture that a film like WALL·E enjoyed, but this highly imaginative adventure is most certainly worth the price of admission.

PERSISTENCE OF VISIONARIES

Since the 1970s, there have only been 6 widely-released stop-motion feature films: The Nightmare Before Christmas, James and the Giant Peach, Chicken Run, Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit, Corpse Bride and now Coraline. These hand-made worlds are a rare treat, crafted by a small, nomadic club of patient animators. The directors behind these films are members of an even smaller club. In fact, all six of these aforementioned films were directed by either Nick Park (a co-director), Tim Burton or Selick.

But why are they such rarities? It’s not because stop-motion is more expensive; on the contrary – the most expensive of these six is Coraline, at a rumored $70 million (I’ve also heard it nosed closer $100 million). Compared to a CG animated feature like WALL·E, with its $180 million price tag, a stop-motion film is a steal.

Stop-motion is simply a niche craft; a production method that takes endless patience and years of training, and the grand masters who hand down the lessons are few and far between. But it’s the rarity with which these visually lavish projects release that makes the celebration of their birth that much more exciting.

MINIATURE MARVELS

So, what’s to celebrate? First and foremost, Coraline is visually stunning. The story never really kicks into high gear, and the slow moments allowed me time gaze in awe at the elaborate world around our young heroine. Inside a 183,000 square feet warehouse, the LAIKA production team, some wearing magnifying head goggles, built a total of 150 sets on 52 stages, some 30 or 40 feet across, filled with exquisitely crafted set-pieces and props. The garden sequences are perhaps the most stunning, with plants awakening or even slithering about. It’s eye sugar, created at the speed of crystallized rock candy (a single cameraman was lucky to capture 2 seconds of footage a day).

Beyond that, Coraline is imaginative, which is due in much part to Gaiman. His 2001 book, which bears many resemblances to his Henson film MirrorMask, is full of Kafka-esque transformations and quirky characters. These all come to life on-screen in a 3-ring circus of color and creepiness as soon as Coraline discovers what’s on the other side of the miniature door. Her seemingly boring house subsequently reveals an array of secrets and kooky characters. We meet Coraline Jones’s new neighbors, Mr. Bobinsky, Miss Spink and Miss Forcible, who all share the 3-apartment house the Jones family moved into (which is styled after Gaiman’s house in Minnesota). These three collectively provide some of the most inspired moments of the film, while at the same time failing to really drive the story.

Finally, the acting is sublime. The animators, many of whom hail from Aardman (Wallace and Gromit), outdid themselves – submitting tireless performances that redefine the craft. Working with 10-inch tall puppets, the 35 animators delivered subtle acting with delicate secondary adjustments to elements like clothing and hair. And you’ll likely agree that the Jumping Mouse Circus, which took 66 days to animate, is a legendary feat of stop-motion greatness.

It’s funny – I haven’t seen much coverage regarding a fascinating piece of technology that aided the team in their craft – 3D printers. Utilizing UV-sensitive resin, the Objet Geometries printers helped the team build thousands of replacement mouths that were modeled with CG software. In fact, all of the voice acting was completed in the computer first, and then printed out for the animators to slide into place, piece by piece. Its one of the few computer-aided elements of the film. Others included the Van Gogh-inspired “Starry Night” sky we see near the end, and some of the vast exteriors, which were composited in post from stop-motion elements. But pay special attention during the theater sequence – in which 248 Scottie dogs fill the seats. This wasn’t composited together with computer trickery; but animated using hundreds of individual puppets, some controlled by cranks hidden under their seats. And in the garden sequences, I suspect your eyes will widen a little bigger when you realize all of the flowers were individually animated.

SPOONFED SUBTEXT

Stop-motion is known as a medium that lets the little imperfections shine through, and in Coraline, the story’s shortcomings also come center stage. The audience is told plot points as opposed to being challenged to discover. Characters say things like “this world is not what it seems,” and at one point, Coraline spells out Selick’s subtext. Upon hearing her sidekick’s full name is “Wyborne,” Coraline remarks “why were you born?,” without letting us sort this out ourselves.

To transit between her house and the Other World, Coraline shuffles through a shimmering tunnel that looks like a psychedelic birth canal. It’s a road too-often travelled. In Alice in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz, we depart on magical journeys, returning to familiar grounds just as the curtains close. In Coraline, we continually shuttle back and forth, which makes for an uneven tale that never fully blooms. And for as inventive as the surroundings are, the film doesn’t reward us with clever dialog or misdirections. Instead, much like Coraline, we’re tempted into a world dripping with quirky characters and magical distractions, only to be tricked into believing there’s more substance below the surface.

The voice acting is a mixed bag. Dakota Fanning turns in a strong performance as Coraline, Keith David is memorable as the Cat, but Teri Hatcher, in her first voice acting role, fails to impress. She’s capable in her role as Coraline’s mother, but when she morphs into the sinister Other Mother, her voice doesn’t follow suit. A well-rounded voice actress would have been a better choice here – someone with some range and experience in the field. It’s a common mistake made on an animated feature – casting a star and assuming because they can light up a screen that they can energize animation.

I saw the film in 3D, and the team makes good use of the medium, with only a few gimmicky pokes at the audience. I found the 3D most visually breathtaking when the scene composition was most dynamic – extreme foreground action, with elaborate depth of field (and not in a jab-you-in-the-eye kinda way).

As a box office junkie, I can’t resist taking a swipe at an opening weekend tally – $10.5 million, from 2,100 theaters. Theater counts will increase, and the picture will see a lifetime US tally of $42 million.

AGELESS ARTISTRY

As the years add up, CG films, like Toy Story, can look dated because technology has advanced so much since the production. Stop-motion films, on the other hand, are forged from physical elements, and don’t wilt over time in the same manner. In this way, the extravagant world of Coraline, even with its story flaws, may indeed be added, alongside Selick’s masterpiece The Nightmare Before Christmas, to the hall of timeless animated tales.