Coraline.
I have been a Neil Gaiman fan for many years now. So when I heard a movie for his children’s book Coraline was going to be a full length stop-motion animation movie, I admit, I piddled a bit. I was excited, but also worried too. Neil Gaiman is the first one to tell you that a movie is not a book. Meaning, don’t go to a movie based on a book and expect it to follow the book exactly. But its hard for a book fan when you see a movie or T.V. show based on a book that you love and it turns out to be some horrible pulsating alien afterbirth and all you want to do is arm up and go on a search for the ones responsible and force them to do it all over again at gun point until they do it right. Yes I have been hurt in the past.
After watching Coraline, I will not be needing my boom stick. The movie stuck with the story faithfully, with an addition I must add, but it added to the story. It was beautiful, dark, disturbing, funny and even psychedelic. The 3D effects were beautifully done. This is how it’s supposed to be done. 3D should not be an excuse to shove things in people’s faces for the “OOH-AHH” effect; it should be used to immerse the audience deeper into the story. The last 3D movie I saw was Beowulf, (Mr. Gaiman did the screenplay for that. I’m a fan boy, sue me) this movie left me feeling nauseous. Too jerky, too much detail for me to take in, I left the theater with the feeling of two gnomes skull-buggering me in each ear and a tummy full of drunk minnows. I know that this is still a new technology (yes, I know 3D movies have been around for a long time, but just go with it man, its new for now) and it’s on the right track. I admit to a slight headache after Coraline, but that could be due to the rest of the audience goers.
Guess I should explain myself before I continue.
I’m not a big fan of people in general. The only thing I hate worse than people: large groups of people. The only thing I hate more than large groups of people: theater assholes. Here’s a few:
I’m bringing 12 kids, four of them toddlers that have been adding to the collection of shit in their diapers for the last two hours. Four infants (ah ah ah in my best The Count voice) that are in the cry –all-the-goddamn-time-maggot stage. Four, five to ten year olds, all jacked up on pixiestixs and Jolt. I don’t care about anyone else’s enjoyment of the movie and I feel no need to wrangle my horde of future dregs of society.
I’m the mid movie texter. I can’t put my fucking phone down for more than five minutes and can’t be out of touch with anyone. I won’t silence my cell phone, if I set it to vibrate; I set it to earthquake/porn star mode. I have replaced my cell screen with all new Halogen lights so when I text the whole theater, lights up.
I’m the mad shitter. I ate something messed up and I am percolating like a camp stove coffee maker. Inhale my essence! We are now one! (Ok I have been this guy, but it’s ok when it’s your own gas)
Hi, like, I wanna talk through the whole movie. Yeah, I’m too stupid to pay attention so I have to ask what’s going on every two seconds. Oh and I like to shout out advice to the screen and make what I think are hilarious comments. So don’t plan on getting into the movie cuz you’re gonna hear my voice the entire time. (By the way, if this is you; please go under the sink and start drinking whatever cleaning products are available.)
Anyway, back to the review:
The voice acting was well played, with the exception of Terri Hatcher. She wasn’t acting, she was reading. Dakota Fanning was great although I shook my magic 8Ball the other day and it said “See Olsen Twins” whatever that means. Keith David as the cat. Well it’s friggin Keith David, ’nuff said. Plus Mr. Gaiman can write cats. The highlight for me was Dawn French and Jennifer Saunders as Miss Forcible and Miss Spink. I have loved these two ladies for many years due to my love of British comedy. Their characters stole the show especially due to one of the characters dressed very skimpily to show off her huge…tracts of land. Not only was the scene uncomfortably funny but hearing the reactions of the parents in the audience just killed me. I’m sure it was a long drive home for some families that night.
You ask me, “Bob, you are a grown man, why are you going to see some kids movie?” I answer thusly: I don’t necessarily think this is a kid’s movie. This would have been great for me when I was a weird little kid, now that I am a weird little adult I can still enjoy it, while lamenting the fact that this wasn’t there for me when I was little. I grew up on The Labyrinth, The Dark Chrystal, and Jim Henson’s: The Storyteller. I liked the old style fairy tales. Not the happily ever after ones, the ones where Jiminy cricket gets squashed and the little mermaid dies.
So, no, this isn’t a kid’s movie, this is a weird little kid’s movie. The kid that wants a little scare and (most importantly) a movie that doesn’t talk down to them. That doesn’t treat them like children, but people that will face adversary and will be scared. Some kids realize early that they are being bull shitted by Barny and the other saccharin sweet crap and they want truth. So, yes scary things happen, people die, yes you can overcome obstacles, but guess what you have to work for it. I’m sure the weird little kids out there no matter what age will enjoy this; where as the “normal” kids might find this a little too scary. That’s ok, that’s why they have movies like Beverly Hills Chihuahua.
Take your kid to see this, take you wife. Just don’t be surprised if it’s your kid loving it and your wife slightly disturbed.
