Why YOU should watch Coraline

This is not a review of the 2009 film Coraline, for if it were, the length of this essay would be entirely spent in praise, and a reader would understandably become tired of the unceasing and unashamed warmth which which I regard this movie. Not only is it an essential piece of nostalgia from my childhood, but it is also one of the most intriguing movies which I have ever seen, and this post is henceforth concerned with why you should watch (or read) Coraline.

But I move too quickly, as most people don't know what Coraline is, or what it's about. The story was written by Neil Gaiman, and is incredible in brevity and depth of plot, a rarity in literature. In essence, a young girl by the name of Coraline Jones moves into a new townhouse with her family, where the upstairs is inhabited by a strange an eccentric Russian acrobat, whom Mrs. Jones mistakes for a drunk, and downstairs dwell two former showgirls and their plethora of dogs. Understandably miserable from the move, Coraline seeks any way in which to entertain herself, as a child might, and her attempts are met with cold detachedness from her mother and father, who are writers cataloging vegetables. In her neglected state, Coraline stumbles upon a secret door, which at night leads to a wondrous place ruled by a replica of her mother with button eyes, who seems to know her every wish and executes it to perfection. But as Coraline comes to this world more and more often, she realizes that all is not as it seems, and is soon ensnared in a plot far grander than she could have ever believed.

But why has this movie so captured my own fascination? Simply because Coraline is a masterpiece, both in film and book, but the stop motion animation of the film perfectly displays the strange horror of the novella, and is a much easier medium in which to take in the complexities of the plot. It's my favorite stand alone film to date, and therefor I believe it warrants some reflection.

Coraline appeals to the most basal sentiment felt by children; the need for attention. And also manages to perfectly capture a child's imagination in the other world's escape. There Coraline comes across pleasures which she could scarcely believe; a garden with the most colorful, vibrant plants, akin to Eden itself, a dinner of her favorite foods, neighbors who pander to her and are youthful instead of old and weird, and most importantly, parents who care for her every need, and never say "I'm too busy".

And have we not all at some point felt some form of negligence from our families, and desired escape from the dull mannerisms of daily life? It's not a jab at parents to say that few kids have the idyllic childhood of Frankenstein, if only because it is physically impossible to satisfy all the strange fantasies of a child, and it would be folly to attempt it.. Never before have I felt so moved, or longed so for a world to exist than the fantasy world portrayed in Coraline, save the famous world of Rowling's design. In Coraline's "other" world, the days are evergreen, but the weather could change on my whim, and everything is carried out to my exact want, and I am never lacking a plaything, or bored of the world, because the world is made for me.

But as much as Coraline panders to childhood imagination, so too does it take it's own sinister turn, reminding the watcher to be wary of such wonders, for often there is an ulterior motive in their presentation. In the case of Coraline Jones, her wondrous world is also home to the movies villain, and her perception quickly turns from ever waxing joy to ever present horror. Now, the horror in the movie is not of The Conjuring variety; it exists more from the contrast between the early geniality with the later fear. Slowly Coraline's fantasy world is turned into her worst nightmare, and she realizes that, though her home is far from perfect, it's still worth fighting for.

Now I won't reveal any of the climax of the plot, which resolves itself quite nicely towards the end, and while one can't help but be feel a wistful ache for the world which was lost, one also feels the great sense of relief in Coraline's reality, which is brighter now than it ever was. But even as the movie ends, there is a question looming over the watcher: Is the villain truly defeated? For clearly her world still exists. This question is never answered, and the movie's soundtrack crescendos slightly with a suspenseful child's choir as the credits begin to roll.

On a more personal note, perhaps I relate to Coraline because like her, I'm an only child, and during my youth often sought ways to entertain myself which tested the enterprise of my imagination, and some which perhaps bordered on lunacy. My demands for entertainment were seldom met by any construct of the physical world, so I had to retreat to the depths of my mind to create worlds which satisfied me. So it's understandable that I in particular found solace in the colorful, carefree "other" world in Coraline, and similarly felt great relief to be centered in the real world at the end of the movie.

I suppose the reason which I write this post is more to lay out my own thoughts on the movie than implore people to watch it, but that purpose is also dear to me, for Coraline remains to this day one of the most underrated movies of all time, and I would recommend it endlessly to people if I could. Unfortunately, I'd be locked in an asylum before I was finished praising the movie; such would be the length of that speech. Regardless, Coraline is truly the epitome of a child's best daydream, as well as their worst nightmare, and I feel that it is important even as we age and mature, to remember those daydreams and nightmares. So, please go watch Coraline (or read the book). Do not expect to be kept up at night, however. It's creepy, but only just, and is wonderful and fantastical at the same time. It's also on Netflix, which is a plus. In fact, if I were to recommend one movie to everyone, it'd be this short film.