Coraline is a stunning film, adapted from Neil Gaiman’s classic children’s book. If you missed the theatrical run in August 2023, you should watch the film on Max.
Nearly 15 years later, the imagery of buttons for eyes remains one of the most unsettling of any horror story.
It’s particularly poignant because Coraline, Neil Gaiman’s classic book adapted into film by Henry Selick, is a story for middle grade readers. It is horror written for children, starring a young girl named Coraline, who moves to a new home and finds life impossibly dreary. But there’s one bright spot. She discovers a passage in the house, behind a small locked door, that leads to an alternate universe where there’s an Other Mother and Other Father — who, notably, have buttons for eyes — and who cook her delicious meals, lavishing her with gifts and entertainment. But it’s a trap.
These themes are legible to youngsters, and riff on some of the most enduring tropes of middle grade fantasy: a curious child, negligent or overworked parents, and a portal to another world that is dominated by a great evil. But functionally, Coraline is also “cosmic dread meets body horror” for young readers, and these horror themes translate well into adulthood. Feeling trapped or suffering invasions of the flesh never stops being scary, even if Coraline never depicts these bits on screen but rather implies that they have or that they can happen. The film was recently remastered, with a successful limited theatrical rerelease on Aug. 14 and 15, finishing behind only mega-hits Barbie and Oppenheimer at the box office. Even if you missed these dates, the good news is you can watch the film on Max right now — and you absolutely should.
I recall the distinct glamour of moving from early reader chapter books to middle grade books. It was a chance to develop taste, to languish in narratives long and complex. My library stocked these books on plastic rotating shelves, and I remember giving one a spin, becoming immediately arrested with Coraline’s cover. I was just about 4-foot-5. My eye level rested right at “G” in the filing system. Each shelf presented a perfect legion of spines, with the paperback in the front visible through the shelf section’s plastic. The dark cover showed a sculptural likeness of a girl, her eyes reduced to beady little buttons.
