I am so in love with Henry Selick’s animated 3D masterpiece Coraline that I will see it a hundred times more, and if so allowed, many times thereafter. Such a luscious and ample world it creates. From the very launch of the film, a tiny whiff of shadowy wonder swiftly frees my inner child, taking him by the hand, touching the oh-so-curious nature of his heart, to place him delicately at the foot of magnificent awe and splendor.
Based on Neil Gaiman’s superlative book, Coraline achieves a classic ambience, a look and feel that has and will continue to weave itself into the very fabric of our culture. Fantastic characters, visual parades of pomp and circumstance, Gothic flights of fancy all wrapped within a musical score by the stirred maestro Bruno Coulais, and this Coraline is easily and without question this generation’s Wizard of Oz.
I have heard the whispers of caution to the kiddies. Ignore them all I tell you. For flying monkeys grabbing little girls and puppy dogs in the land of Oz certainly had me running for the covers when I was just a child, and the very reason I went back for more each and every year. Life IS scary after all, and unpredictable, and wondrous too. That’s why Coraline fits the bill so scrumptiously.
I will not waste your precious time on regurgitated storylines or detailed moments that spoil the surprise, but rather encourage you to go out and buy your ticket straight away at once without delay. For when I sat in the theatre full of adults and wee ones chattering and guffawing about nothing much, the moment Coraline parted the curtains, there was a hush that lingered throughout the entire film. Only the collective waves of revelations, yelps, and opulent ovations remained until the final credits rolled. A wondrously fabulous thing indeed!