"You probably think this world is a dream come true... but you're wrong."
Coraline (the voice Dakota Fanning, from Man on Fire [2004 / trailer]), a petulant and bored little girl, has left her beloved hometown and friends and moved with her parents to a large old house, which has been divided up into three apartments, in the middle of nowhere. Her parents live for their computers and have little time for her, and the other residents of the house — the aged burlesque artists Miss April Spink (Jennifer Saunders) and Miss Miriam Forcible (Dawn French) and the former vaudeville performer Sergei Alexander Bobinsky (Ian McShane) — are all both too old and too odd to be friends. Coraline doesn't find the only other kid around, Wyborne 'Wybie' Lovat (Robert Bailey Jr.), the grandson of the house owner, to be all that much better. Wybie gives Coraline a doll that he found at his grandma's that looks just like her and has buttons for eyes. Soon thereafter, Coraline finds a bricked-up passageway that opens at night to take her to a parallel world in which everyone has button eyes, her parents are loving and caring, and everything is magical. The Other Mother (Teri Hatcher of Tango & Cash [1989 / trailer] and Fever [1999 / trailer], who also does the voice of the Real Mother) invites Coraline to stay, on the condition that she replace her eyes with buttons. ("You know, you could stay forever, if you want to. There's one tiny thing we have to do first...") When Coraline refuses, she quickly learns that dreams can be nightmares in disguise as the Other Mother tries to force her to remain. Can Coraline escape, save her real parents and help release the trapped souls of the children stolen before her?
Henry Selick, the man behind two other contemporary stop-motion masterpieces, The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993 / trailer) and James and the Giant Peach (1996 / trailer), as well as the interesting but less-than-successful partially-live-action oddity Monkeybone (2001 / trailer), has done it again: He has created yet another jaw-dropping stop-motion cinematic wonder, a visual delight made less for children than for the child still found within the adult. Based on a fantasy novella by Neil Gaiman, who also wrote the interesting live-action "magic other world" films MirrorMask (2005 / trailer) and Stardust (2007 / trailer), the basic story of Coraline is a beautifully nightmarish fourth or fifth cousin to Alice in Wonderland / Through the Looking Glass, complete with (mangy) talking cat (voiced by Keith David of The Thing [1982 / trailer], The Quick & The Dead [1995 / trailer], Pitch Black [2000 / trailer] and the abysmal 29 Palms [2002]). The longest stop-motion film yet made, Coraline is also the first stop-motion feature to be filmed in 3-D — but like the truly best of films, it need not be seen in this currently popular gimmick to be enjoyed. In 3-D or 2-D, Coraline is one of those rare films that prove that "Yes, Virginia, there is still creativity in Hollywood." Though marketed as a children's film, Coraline is pretty strong stuff for little kids — and, perhaps, for some adults. Within minutes, for all its color and all the fun and innocence the technique itself seems to promise, the film takes on a creepy, disturbing tone that keeps the viewers at the edge of their seats until the finale. (Indeed, the credit sequence of the doll being re-sewn is downright unsettling and highly disturbing.) Even the "happy" parts — the show interludes, for example — have an oddly perverse or threatening feel to them; but then, as is shown later in the film, they do indeed hide dangers. For whatever reason — and much to the benefit of the movie — Selick seriously reduces the amount of saccharine musical interludes that are normally found in this type of film (i.e., children's films, and especially animated children's films) normally have. And since Selick never goes to the Michael-Bay-style excesses that, for example, ruin that other less magical but scary kiddy computer-animated film Monster House (2006 / trailer), Coraline also maintains a much finer, sincere and consistent unsettling tone. But for all the chills and dread, Coraline also remains a simply beautiful piece of filmmaking. Just like there is no wrong brushstroke found in the best masterpieces (be it Rembrandt's Mona Lisa, Gericault's Raft of Medusa, Dix's Portrait of Sylvia Von Hardenor Picasso's Guernica), there seems nothing misplaced or wrong in Coraline. Coraline is beyond doubt a masterpiece of its kind, a tour de force that can be enjoyed as such or simply enjoyed as a truly fine film. Do yourself a favor and watch it today! You won’t be disappointed — but you might have a nightmare or two tonight.
Time to go far back in time and look at a short that has another nine years to go before reaching the ripe old age of 100. The Skeleton Dance is an early and seldom seen classic from Walt Disney, the first of his numerous Silly Symphony shorts. He reused much of it that very same year in his Mickey Mouse short Haunted House. It was animated by Ub Iwerks who, in turn, remade it eight years later in colour as Skeleton Frolics for Columbia. There is no real plot to The Skeleton Dance, it just features a bunch of skeletons having fun and making music in a graveyard one dark and scary night. The concept of the short was thought up by Carl Stalling at an idea meeting with Disney, who suggested making a cartoon short based simply around music. Silly Symphonies dominated the Oscars for years to come after Walt introduced colour (and won an Oscar) in 1932 with Flowers & Trees. The name Silly Symphony was, as one can imagine, a direct influence on Warner Bros. decision to use the (now) more familiar title of Looney Tunes. In 1994, in Jerry Beck’s book The 50 Greatest Cartoons: As Selected by 1,000 Animation Professionals, The Skeleton Dance was voted number 18. It remains a popular film to reference, and has been “quoted” or can be “seen” in films as varied as Forbidden Zone (1982 / trailer), Look Who's Talking (1989 / trailer), Corpse Bride (2005 / trailer) and Ghost Rider (2007 / trailer). So, now that you know the trivia, sit back and enjoy 5.5 minutes of innocence from the days when animation was still learning to walk.
Yet another haunted house flick that uses the most inane contrivances to gather a group of people together within some cursed structure where they meet their fate one by one. The Sick House is a Boll AG Production, and although the flick does little to add shine to the name Uwe Boll, it does less damage to his reputation than any of the films he has directed himself (with the exception of Postal [2007 / trailer], which is actually a pretty funny film). Some guy named Curtis Radclyffe is the credited director here, but the film looks less as if it was actually directed by a director than tossed together by a cinematographer afraid of colour, a cameraman with the shakes, and a scissor-happy editor. And then there’s that thing that Final Girlaptly calls the "'tardo twist", the out-of-the-blue ending that really causes even the least demanding viewer to spit their beer in laughter. In truth, however, considering the whole set up to get the ghost-fodder into the haunted house—in this case, a hospital built above an orphanage—only a 'tard could possible expect the film might be good, so a "'tardo twist" ending sort of fits to the film. Gina Philips, a familiar face from films such as Jeepers Creepers (2001 / trailer) and Dead & Breakfast (2004 / trailer) is back again in another questionable film project, this time around playing an American instructor (?) / archaeologist (?) / archaeology student (?) in England named Anna who is doing a dig at a deserted hospital that functioned as a plague house during the Great Plague of London. But her work is interrupted when some of her finds test positive for the plague and the city decides to raze the building. (We won’t talk the science behind this because obviously enough the scriptwriters didn't find it important enough to stay realistic, either.) But Anna is convinced the site holds a hidden secret about a child-killing plague doctor and she wants to find the proof, so like any intelligent person in such a situation she breaks into the building alone at night and continues her digging amongst the "plague spores" all by her lonesome.
In the meantime, four asocial teens—Nick (Alex Hassell), his pregger gal Joolz (Kellie Shirley), Steve (Andrew Knott) and his deaf brother Clive (Jack Bailey)—steal a car for a joyride and then accidentally run over something or someone directly in front of Anna's hospital and promptly hideout in the building. Of course, the shaky cam and quick editing make it clear they ain’t really alone there, but just what is it that slinks through them there corridors? Nothing less than the murderous ghost of the Plague Doctor himself, who Anna has released during her digging down in the basement. The five cross paths and throw a hissy-fit or two and then suddenly Clive has all the symptoms of the plague—but how the hell can they get out with the front door locked? OK, one of the mainstays of horror is teenagers that wander off alone, but how many films actually have a character say “lets’s split up” two or three times no matter how weird and frightening things seem to get? One by one the bodies fall until only Nick and Anna are left, now finally aware that the events that be are all part of a ceremony to bring the Plague Doctor back to real life—can they stop him and survive? What do you think? The Sick House is pretty much as bad as almost everyone seems to say it is, but that isn't to say it doesn't have a few gleams of decency within it. With the exception of the hot-headed Nick (Alex Hassell), the acting is surprisingly good for a group (excluding Gina Philips) of no names. Likewise, despite the absolutely crappy camerawork and editing, midway through the film actually achieves a certain level of tension and unease, a level that is regrettably not effectively maintained to the film's end—again due mostly to the crappy camerawork and editing. As raspberry-inducing as the "'tardo twist" is, it sort of makes a limited amount of sense if you actually notice the fat, frozen fox and clock outside the hospital, but the crappy camerawork and editing makes it a bit hard to catch this slight clue. The low-key, grey-blue colour scheme is actually rather fitting to the film, but it is hardly saves the film from being ruined by the underdeveloped script and crappy camerawork and editing. But despite the crappy camerawork and editing, The Sick House does include a particularly long and unsettling—almost nauseating—segment involving Joolz that is truly horrifying. But as effective as leeches and blood and nude, defenceless mothers-to-be and slit tummies and missing babies might be, the single segment is not enough to save the film. And did I mention the crappy camerawork and editing?
White trash time! It only took four films for them to do it, but finally there made a really excellent killer doll flick. Okay, Child's Play I (1989 / trailer) and Child's Play II (1990 / trailer) weren't really all that bad, especially in comparison to a lot of the other crap that was around at the time. The killings were bloody enough, and Chucky the killer doll always had more snappy lines than Freddy ever did—and generally they were much more apt to the killing of the moment than those of the man with the glove—but by the third film in 1991 the series had definitely got tired and dull, no matter how the victims died. Hard to believe that the series could ever be successfully rejuvenated after sitting moribund for seven years, but with the fourth time around a mixture of old and new hands made the blood flow all the more merrier than ever before. The Bride of Chucky is a blood-drenched black comedy featuring a psychotic plastic pair of trailer trash scum on a hilariously tasteless killer drive across New Jersey (!). The film is not light on the imitation blood or special effects—those dolls are amazing!—but what makes The Bride of Chucky so enjoyable is its hip, hilarious and tasteless sense of humour. Self-referential to the horror genre in the same way as many of the better post-modern horror hits of the late-90s like Scream I (1996 / trailer), I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997 / trailer), The Faculty (1998 / trailer) or Cherry Falls (2000 / trailer), The Bride of Chucky surpasses them all. Featuring better direction, better acting (from the dolls at least), a tighter script and better jokes, this is a film that keeps you laughing even the second time around. Ronny Yu, best known to fans of Hong Kong films due to The Bride With White Hair I(1993 / trailer) and II (1994 / trailer), made his American directorial debut with The Bride of Chucky, and of all the Hong Kong masters that have yet crossed the ocean, his Hollywood debut is undoubtedly the most consistent, if not the best. Yu has an excellent eye, both for moods and for framing, which he tempers well with expert editing, a fluid camera movement and a lot of visual energy. Scriptwriter Don Mancini, who also wrote all other films in the series, has either gotten better with age or he must have had some pretty fucking good weed when he wrote the script. He pulls no punches and as a result gets a lot of laughs as well as an occasional scare. True, the first half hour after the exceptionally perfect opening sequence is a bit slow, but it is also needed to introduce both the movie's nominal heroes and the background to the events that follow. Even the music isn't too bad, one of Graeme Revell's better jobs, even if parts of it aren't fit to be played during a quiet night at home. (Revell, ex-member of the legendary SPK (Surgical Penis Klinic) before they started doing crappy disco music, is a genre stalwart nowadays, having created the aural background for films ranging from Dead Calm (1989 / trailer) to No Escape (1994 / trailer) and onwards up to Sin City (2005 / trailer) and beyond. Unlike such mega-popular film music composers like the ever employed Danny Elfman, Revell usually belongs to the school of film music composers that believes the music should accompany a film rather than overwhelm it.) All that trivia aside, The Bride of Chucky starts off on the right foot with a moodily shot scene of a cop breaking into an evidence room that contains, amongst other things, Freddy's glove, Jason's and Michael's masks, and Leatherface's chainsaw. He steals a bag and soon after, just as his curiosity finally gets too much of him and he peaks a look, he gets offed by a nail file-wielding Tiffany ("You know me, I'd kill anybody, but I'd only sleep with the man I love."). In no time flat, Tiffany (Jennifer Tilly) is back in her trailer reviving her ex-boyfriend with the help of a copy of Voodoo for Idiots. Once done, it doesn't take long for the two psychopaths to get on each others nerves, and before Tiffany can even finish watching The Bride of Frankenstein (1935 / trailer) Chucky (voice of Brad Dourif, as always) goes and pushes the television into the bathtub on her. Exit Tiffany the Hot Bod and enter Tiffany, killer doll number two. (The most disappointing aspect of The Bride of Chucky is that Jennifer Tilly, in all her trailer trash glory and still exuding that come-hither-and-fuck-me desirability that made her so memorable in Bound (1996 / trailer), never lets us see any skin. Damn, white trash or not, she rates high on the bonkability scale—at least until she opens her mouth.) Now there are two dolls eager to get the graveyard in Hackensack, New Jersey, where the magic amulet is buried that can transfer their souls into human bodies. Two less than intelligent eloping young teens from opposite sides of the track are the boobs they manage to trick into "delivering" the dolls, and the trail of blood and violence that follows them soon has each of the young lovebirds convinced that the other is a murdering psychopath. By the time the dolls reveal the truth and kidnap them at gunpoint, the kids are wanted by the police and have little hope of escaping. Along the way, there is the infamous doll sex scene and the immortal exchange in which Tiffany moans "Ohh Chucky, do you got a rubber?" and Chucky answers "Tiff... I'm ALL rubber!" The Bride of Chucky doesn't win any brownie points as a horror film, but it gets top notches as a camp black comedy with tasteless laughs and great dialogue coming in a steady stream. The big showdown is almost a bit out of tone to the rest of the film, but up to the point at which the cop lets the two teens leave it holds water and fits well enough, considering that the film is about two murdering dolls. As for the ending, well, Chucky obviously speaks much too soon when he says "If this were a movie, it would take three or four sequels to explain". The Bride of Chucky is definitely worth grabbing next time you're at the local DVD store. Buy some good smoke and beer to go along with it, and you'll laugh the night away.
Coraline (the voice Dakota Fanning, from Man on Fire [2004 / trailer]), a petulant and bored little girl, has left her beloved hometown and friends and moved with her parents to a large old house, which has been divided up into three apartments, in the middle of nowhere. Her parents live for their computers and have little time for her, and the other residents of the house — the aged burlesque artists Miss April Spink (Jennifer Saunders) and Miss Miriam Forcible (Dawn French) and the former vaudeville performer Sergei Alexander Bobinsky (Ian McShane) — are all both too old and too odd to be friends. Coraline doesn't find the only other kid around, Wyborne 'Wybie' Lovat (Robert Bailey Jr.), the grandson of the house owner, to be all that much better. Wybie gives Coraline a doll that he found at his grandma's that looks just like her and has buttons for eyes. Soon thereafter, Coraline finds a bricked-up passageway that opens at night to take her to a parallel world in which everyone has button eyes, her parents are loving and caring, and everything is magical. 
The Other Mother (Teri Hatcher of Tango & Cash [1989 / trailer] and Fever [1999 / trailer], who also does the voice of the Real Mother) invites Coraline to stay, on the condition that she replace her eyes with buttons. ("You know, you could stay forever, if you want to. There's one tiny thing we have to do first...") When Coraline refuses, she quickly learns that dreams can be nightmares in disguise as the Other Mother tries to force her to remain. Can Coraline escape, save her real parents and help release the trapped souls of the children stolen before her?
Coraline (the voice Dakota Fanning, from Man on Fire [2004 / trailer]), a petulant and bored little girl, has left her beloved hometown and friends and moved with her parents to a large old house, which has been divided up into three apartments, in the middle of nowhere. Her parents live for their computers and have little time for her, and the other residents of the house — the aged burlesque artists Miss April Spink (Jennifer Saunders) and Miss Miriam Forcible (Dawn French) and the former vaudeville performer Sergei Alexander Bobinsky (Ian McShane) — are all both too old and too odd to be friends. Coraline doesn't find the only other kid around, Wyborne 'Wybie' Lovat (Robert Bailey Jr.), the grandson of the house owner, to be all that much better. Wybie gives Coraline a doll that he found at his grandma's that looks just like her and has buttons for eyes. Soon thereafter, Coraline finds a bricked-up passageway that opens at night to take her to a parallel world in which everyone has button eyes, her parents are loving and caring, and everything is magical. 
The Other Mother (Teri Hatcher of Tango & Cash [1989 / trailer] and Fever [1999 / trailer], who also does the voice of the Real Mother) invites Coraline to stay, on the condition that she replace her eyes with buttons. ("You know, you could stay forever, if you want to. There's one tiny thing we have to do first...") When Coraline refuses, she quickly learns that dreams can be nightmares in disguise as the Other Mother tries to force her to remain. Can Coraline escape, save her real parents and help release the trapped souls of the children stolen before her?
Henry Selick, the man behind two other contemporary stop-motion masterpieces, The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993 / trailer) and James and the Giant Peach (1996 / trailer), as well as the interesting but less-than-successful partially-live-action oddity Monkeybone (2001 / trailer), has done it again: He has created yet another jaw-dropping stop-motion cinematic wonder, a visual delight made less for children than for the child still found within the adult. Based on a fantasy novella by Neil Gaiman, who also wrote the interesting live-action "magic other world" films MirrorMask (2005 / trailer) and Stardust (2007 / trailer), the basic story of Coraline is a beautifully nightmarish fourth or fifth cousin to Alice in Wonderland / Through the Looking Glass, 
complete with (mangy) talking cat (voiced by Keith David of The Thing [1982 / trailer], The Quick & The Dead [1995 / trailer], Pitch Black [2000 / trailer] and the abysmal 29 Palms [2002]). The longest stop-motion film yet made, Coraline is also the first stop-motion feature to be filmed in 3-D — but like the truly best of films, it need not be seen in this currently popular gimmick to be enjoyed. In 3-D or 2-D, Coraline is one of those rare films that prove that "Yes, Virginia, there is still creativity in Hollywood."
Though marketed as a children's film, Coraline is pretty strong stuff for little kids — and, perhaps, for some adults. Within minutes, for all its color and all the fun and innocence the technique itself seems to promise, the film takes on a creepy, disturbing tone that keeps the viewers at the edge of their seats until the finale. (Indeed, the credit sequence of the doll being re-sewn is downright unsettling and highly disturbing.) Even the "happy" parts — the show interludes, for example — have an oddly perverse or threatening feel to them; but then, as is shown later in the film, they do indeed hide dangers. For whatever reason — and much to the benefit of the movie — Selick seriously reduces the amount of saccharine musical interludes that are normally found in this type of film (i.e., children's films, and especially animated children's films) normally have. 
And since Selick never goes to the Michael-Bay-style excesses that, for example, ruin that other less magical but scary kiddy computer-animated film Monster House (2006 / trailer), Coraline also maintains a much finer, sincere and consistent unsettling tone.
Coraline is beyond doubt a masterpiece of its kind, a tour de force that can be enjoyed as such or simply enjoyed as a truly fine film. Do yourself a favor and watch it today! You won’t be disappointed — but you might have a nightmare or two tonight. 
