Intro: As of this post, it's hard to believe that the well-known stop-motion studio Laika has been around for 20 years. The animation company based in Oregon is akin to Pixar in the realm of stop-motion animation. This talented group of filmmakers clearly has a passion for their craft and is known for producing original and groundbreaking stories that resonate with audiences worldwide. Although Laika has evolved in its storytelling and stunning animation with each passing movie, many animation fans, including myself, still remember its flagship movie, Coraline, the one that started it all. Based on the Neil Gaiman book of the same name, and directed by the director of The Nightmare Before Christmas, Henry Selick. Coraline is as whimsical as it is horrific, while offering wonderful morals for both kids and adults.
Summary: Coraline Jones (Dakota Fanning) has moved with her family from her hometown in Michigan to the pink palace in Oregon. Her parents have little to no time to pay attention to her because of their work, and the people she meets, such as a local kid named Wybie (Robert Bailey Jr), disgust Coraline immensely. One day, she finds a door that, when opened, only reveals a brick wall. During the night, the door reveals itself to lead to the other world, where another mother and father seem better and pay more attention to her. They even have strange buttons for eyes. Every night, she keeps coming back to the other world, only to soon discover that there may be some dark secrets that could prove that things seem too good to be true.
Story: What makes Coraline so captivating is how it lures the audience into what seems like a playful, whimsical adventure—only to reveal, piece by piece, the darkness lurking underneath. The film touches on themes like appreciating what you have, the risks of escapism, and the pain of neglect, but it does so with a light touch. The messages never feel heavy-handed, allowing the story’s emotional beats to land naturally. Scenes in the “real world” are slightly exaggerated, cartoonish. Still, they’re grounded by honest moments—like Coraline’s bratty exchanges with her parents—that make the family dynamics feel authentic. Contrastingly, the “other world” is pure fantasy: vibrant, strange, and alluring. Even though the audience senses from the start that something is wrong, it’s easy to understand why Coraline is drawn in. Watching her delight in this magical place, like any curious child would, is both charming and bittersweet. Coraline manages to build genuine suspense and horror while staying within the boundaries of a PG rating. The scares are smart, not gratuitous, and the film treats its audience respectfully—there’s plenty here to unsettle even adults. If there’s a weakness, it’s in the third act. The final conflict feels a bit tacked on, as if the story didn’t quite trust itself to end quietly. I think it would have been stronger if Coraline’s escape marked the end of the adventure, without an extra round of peril. That said, the resolution between Coraline and Wybie is a genuinely sweet one, giving the story a sense of closure. Years after its release, Coraline’s blend of whimsical horror and relatable life lessons still resonates. It’s the kind of story that lingers with you long after the credits roll.
Characters: One of Coraline’s greatest strengths is its cast of flawed, believable characters. No one is painted as purely good or bad—everyone feels real, with strengths and weaknesses that make their choices understandable. Coraline herself isn’t a perfect heroine. She’s stubborn, sometimes selfish, and prone to brattiness, but she’s also quick-witted, curious, and brave. These complexities make her journey feel earned and relatable. Coraline’s parents, often criticized for being inattentive, aren’t villains—they’re just overwhelmed by work and the stress of moving, struggling to balance their responsibilities with parenting a spirited child. Their portrayal is refreshingly honest, avoiding the trap of making them one-dimensional. The supporting cast adds vibrant color to the Pink Palace. Mr. Bobinsky, the eccentric upstairs neighbor, is obsessed with his mouse circus; Ms. Spink and Ms. Forcible, the retired actresses, bicker and banter with theatrical flair. These characters could have easily become caricatures, but the film gives them quirks and warmth that make them memorable. Wybie, a local boy who was invented for the movie, is a notable addition to the film adaptation. While new characters in adaptations can sometimes feel forced, Wybie’s inclusion gives Coraline someone to confide in, externalizing her thoughts and emotions for the audience. His friendship nudges Coraline toward growth, and he proves integral to the plot, making the story’s world feel more connected. The dual versions of each character in the Other World are clever: their flaws vanish, their best traits exaggerated, all to draw Coraline deeper into the Other Mother’s web. Even the Cat, voiced by Keith David, adds an enigmatic charm—his sly, knowing presence offering comfort and warning. These characters stick with us thanks to careful writing and strong performances, making Coraline’s world as haunting as it is believable.
Animation: This movie came out all the way back in 2009, and yet this film showcases Laika’s remarkable ability to push the boundaries of stop-motion animation. I love the stark contrast between the real world and the other world. The real world is depicted in muted grays, giving us a sense of Coraline’s dreary reality and what she’s desperate to escape. In contrast, the other world bursts with vibrant, almost overwhelming color. Each of Coraline’s visits there feels like stepping into a magical adventure—whether she’s exploring a glowing, enchanted garden planted by her other father or watching the dazzling stage show put on by alternate versions of Miss Spink and Miss Forcible. All these wonders are crafted to make Coraline feel special, lulling her into a false sense of security before the film’s darker truths are revealed. The character designs are distinctive and exaggerated, yet expressive enough that their emotions come through without explanation. Coraline’s blue hair has become iconic, and the other mother’s gradual, unsettling transformations are a brilliant touch from the animators. While there are moments where CGI is used, they’re rare, and the film remains rooted in the tactile artistry of stop-motion. If there’s one thing I wish had been different, the animation could have been a bit choppier—sometimes the movement is so smooth it feels almost digital, which slightly lessens the handmade charm. Still, that’s a minor quibble. With Coraline, Laika set a new standard for stop-motion, creating something unforgettable and iconic in the process—a legacy they would only build upon in their later films.
Music: French composer Bruno Coulais delivers a rich and dynamic score that is at once comforting, playful, and occasionally haunting. Much of the soundtrack, especially in the real world, captures a sense of innocence and childlike wonder, perfectly aligning with Coraline’s youthful perspective. This approach is especially effective in the film’s opening scenes, as it draws us into Coraline’s world. When the story shifts into darker territory, Coulais skillfully distorts the music, ramping up the tension and amplifying the film’s horror elements. While the movie doesn’t feature as many songs as “The Nightmare Before Christmas,” the original pieces it does include are memorable and well-executed. Notably, the “Other Father Song,” written by They Might Be Giants, stands out despite its brief 30-second runtime—hinting at deeper meanings beneath its whimsical surface. Although Coulais would go on to score several of Cartoon Saloon’s acclaimed films, his work on "Coraline" remains among his most distinctive and unforgettable.
Conclusion: Although I wish more of Laika’s other films got the same recognition and affection as this one. There’s no denying that Henry Selick’s adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s book has truly made its mark—not just as a Halloween staple, but as a film with rich morals, breathtaking animation, and enchanting music. Every year, I find myself revisiting Coraline and her journey through the other world, and somehow, each rewatch makes me appreciate it even more. It’s a genuinely timeless classic that not only helped put Laika on the map for future successes but also became one of the most influential stop-motion films since The Nightmare Before Christmas. Coraline proved that this animation style still has a place among today’s wave of CGI movies.
(Final Grade: A)