Coraline

Coraline is a fine family fantasy, confident enough to let its heroine be difficult and its horrors be frightening. Henry Selick, writing and directing, takes a bored girl’s discovery of a secret door seriously. The alternative world initially looks preferable, which gives her curiosity some sense. She has reason to be tempted. We recommend the film warmly, though its idea of family entertainment allows for a disturbed night’s sleep.

Dakota Fanning voices Coraline Jones without making her impatience merely cute. We need not approve of every complaint. There is enough annoyance in the character to make her recognisable, and enough resolve to keep us interested when the fantasy becomes threatening. Selick’s screenplay does not require her to be sweet before taking her troubles seriously. That makes the journey easier to enter: we can share her curiosity while distrusting the place she has found.

Pete Kozachik’s cinematography makes the stop-motion world feel worth exploring, with depth that draws attention into the spaces rather than simply towards the nearest spectacle. The production design supplies the necessary temptation: this other place has to be appealing before it can become alarming. The intricate sets reward looking, and the 3D helps us appreciate how those spaces fit together. Selick gives us time to enjoy the strangeness, so Coraline’s decision to explore does not depend entirely on our accepting that children will go through any door.

Teri Hatcher voices both Mel Jones and the Other Mother, keeping the ordinary parent and her unsettling double closely connected. We were unnerved by the mother’s button eyes; replacing such a familiar part of a parent’s face makes the whole promise of a nicer world feel suspect. The idea is simple enough for a child to grasp, and nasty enough to trouble an adult. Hatcher’s double casting helps because the threat comes with a voice that already belongs in Coraline’s life.

Bruno Coulais’s score sustains that unease without flattening the fantasy into a single ominous mood. Its delicacy matters, because the film needs room for wonder as well as dread. Editors Ronald Sanders and Christopher Murrie allow the exploration to breathe, resisting the assumption that animation must keep hurrying to hold our attention. At 100 minutes, the film has time to let us inspect its strange world, and that patience makes the moments of menace more effective.

The supporting characters are less consistently rewarding. Jennifer Saunders and Dawn French voice Miss Spink and Miss Forcible, and there is pleasure in the casting, but the surrounding eccentricity can feel busy beside the direct appeal of Coraline’s predicament. Selick sometimes seems more interested in another oddity than in giving the people already here more to do. It is a limited weakness, though noticeable in a film whose central child and parental double are so sharply conceived.

This is family fantasy that allows children to encounter something they may not feel ready for. Selick respects their ability to be frightened, but not every child will enjoy the experience. The PG certificate is useful information; the button eyes give a clearer idea of the sort of evening being offered. Choose it for a child who likes being scared, not merely one who likes animation.