Sections'Coraline' blurs child, adult line
Adam Waldowski
Issue date: 2/10/09 Section: Features
Though it's apparent painstaking effort has gone into making the stop-motion animated feature "Coraline," the real painstaking effort awaits the audience that has to plod through it. The bratty title character, initially hard to like and eventually impossible to root for, annoys her workaholic parents who neglect her as much as they can. At first, it's a relief when Coraline escapes this sour environment through a door to a parallel universe where her "other" parents want only to make her happy. Unfortunately, the parallel universe quickly becomes a place too creepy for young children and too deeply unpleasant for adults.
It's in this parallel universe that her mother cooks fabulous meals and her father writes catchy songs. Her neighbor Wybie, who annoys Coraline in reality, has been altered to not speak. The disturbing difference is that the "other" parents and Wybie have buttons for eyes. Coraline still doesn't want to leave, but every time she falls asleep, she returns to her poisonous home life.
The differences between worlds and some imaginative sequences are richly detailed, but imagination only goes so far. As the illusion in the parallel universe unravels, all aesthetic pleasantries go with it. What remains is ugly and distasteful. Accordingly, the plot becomes equally irksome.
Coraline, who once loved her new home, wants nothing more than to leave. Her "other" mother morphs into a wiry, spider-like creature who violently drags Coraline to a room where she meets the ghosts of three dead children. If violence against children or ghosts of slain kids aren't objectionable enough, the last half hour is brimming with this kind of abhorrence.
The voice acting is by a bunch of second-rate actors who lend their unlikable characters additional unlikability. Dakota Fanning makes the snot-nosed Coraline especially snotty; Teri Hatcher seems content to be typecast as a desperate housewife, even in animated form.
Like last year's "Bolt," the best thing in "Coraline" is a sassy black cat who is the voice of reason. Voiced by Keith David, the personable cat seems as baffled by these moronic characters as the audience. Against his better judgment, he still helps Coraline escape which makes him something of a saint. In return, Coraline throws the cat at her wicked "other" mother, forcing him to claw his way free. This direct affront against the film's only amiable character is indefensible, but "Coraline" jaunts along anyway toward its unsatisfying end.
That ending, as superficial as it may be, is still a bit of a relief after tales of child murder and the constant threat of a villain who wants to sew buttons in our young heroine's eye sockets. Returning to her negligent parents, Coraline's lesson in all this is a bit muddled. The moral of Coraline's story isn't exactly that you should be content in your surroundings. Perhaps, be content or else; it could always be worse.
It's in this parallel universe that her mother cooks fabulous meals and her father writes catchy songs. Her neighbor Wybie, who annoys Coraline in reality, has been altered to not speak. The disturbing difference is that the "other" parents and Wybie have buttons for eyes. Coraline still doesn't want to leave, but every time she falls asleep, she returns to her poisonous home life.
The differences between worlds and some imaginative sequences are richly detailed, but imagination only goes so far. As the illusion in the parallel universe unravels, all aesthetic pleasantries go with it. What remains is ugly and distasteful. Accordingly, the plot becomes equally irksome.
Coraline, who once loved her new home, wants nothing more than to leave. Her "other" mother morphs into a wiry, spider-like creature who violently drags Coraline to a room where she meets the ghosts of three dead children. If violence against children or ghosts of slain kids aren't objectionable enough, the last half hour is brimming with this kind of abhorrence.
The voice acting is by a bunch of second-rate actors who lend their unlikable characters additional unlikability. Dakota Fanning makes the snot-nosed Coraline especially snotty; Teri Hatcher seems content to be typecast as a desperate housewife, even in animated form.
Like last year's "Bolt," the best thing in "Coraline" is a sassy black cat who is the voice of reason. Voiced by Keith David, the personable cat seems as baffled by these moronic characters as the audience. Against his better judgment, he still helps Coraline escape which makes him something of a saint. In return, Coraline throws the cat at her wicked "other" mother, forcing him to claw his way free. This direct affront against the film's only amiable character is indefensible, but "Coraline" jaunts along anyway toward its unsatisfying end.
That ending, as superficial as it may be, is still a bit of a relief after tales of child murder and the constant threat of a villain who wants to sew buttons in our young heroine's eye sockets. Returning to her negligent parents, Coraline's lesson in all this is a bit muddled. The moral of Coraline's story isn't exactly that you should be content in your surroundings. Perhaps, be content or else; it could always be worse.
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