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Coraline & The Power of Neglect

  • Writer: Eddie Middleton
    Eddie Middleton
  • Jun 18
  • 6 min read

Meet Coraline Jones—a bored, blue-haired kid who’s just moved into the creepiest fixer-upper apartment complex imaginable. Her parents? Too busy typing furiously and forgetting she exists to notice she’s one sarcastic eye-roll away from running off to join the circus. So, naturally, when Coraline finds a tiny door to a parallel universe with a perfect mom who actually cooks, pays attention, and doesn’t look like she’s allergic to joy, she’s all in.


But wait—there’s a catch. Everyone in this fantasy world has buttons for eyes and a deeply unsettling vibe that screams “run.” Turns out, Other Mother is less “fun Pinterest mom” and more “soul-devouring spider demon with a flair for interior design.” Coraline has to outwit her with bravery, a talking cat, and pure main-character energy before she becomes the next kid on the milk carton—with buttons sewn into her face.


It’s Alice in Wonderland meets Tim Burton’s fever dream, and it’ll make you appreciate your inattentive, microwave-dinner-making real mom just a little more.



And now, here are five fast facts about the making of Coraline:


  1. The knitting in the film was done with needles the size of sewing pins:To create Coraline’s tiny sweaters and gloves, acclaimed miniature knitter Althea Crome used needles as fine as human hair and incredibly thin silk thread. Each piece of clothing was hand-knitted to scale, showcasing an astonishing level of craftsmanship. For example, Coraline’s signature star-patterned sweater took several weeks to complete.


  1. It was the first stop-motion feature to be shot entirely in 3D:Coraline was the first stop-motion animated feature film to be completely filmed in stereoscopic 3D, rather than having 3D effects added in post-production. This added depth to the already intricate sets and helped emphasize the contrast between the real world and the Other World.


  1. Every face on every puppet was made using a 3D printer:LAIKA used replacement animation for the characters’ facial expressions, meaning different parts of the faces were swapped out frame by frame. They printed over 200,000 unique facial parts using a custom-built 3D printer, a pioneering move in the animation industry at the time.


  1. It took nearly two years just to create the garden scene:One of the most visually stunning moments in the film—the magical blooming garden in the Other World—took about 730 days to design, build, and animate. Every flower, bug, and detail was hand-crafted and precisely choreographed, showcasing the intense labor and creativity behind stop-motion animation.


  2. The voice actor for the Cat recorded his lines in a very unique way:Actor Keith David, who voiced the mysterious and wise Cat and will always be one of my favorite character actors, recorded his lines without ever seeing the animation or the full script all at once. The directors wanted his performance to remain natural and slightly aloof—just like the Cat—so they gave him minimal direction and context during recording sessions to capture that mystique. And with a voice like his I nominate the man to take over for Charlton Heston as the next actor to read the Bible to me cover to cover.



Coraline, Neglect, and the Perils of Wishful Escape


Somehow it’s incredibly fitting that this week’s episode is number 13. Some might say, oh no…the number 13! Not good luck. Well, I don’t believe in luck and it used to be that when I was in Walmart trying to check out I would always hit up row 13. Seems as though no one wanted to use that so it worked out.


Neil Gaiman’s Coraline, adapted into a visually striking and emotionally resonant animated film, is much more than a dark fantasy; it’s a psychological exploration of childhood loneliness and the emotional vacuum that neglect can create. At its heart, Coraline is a cautionary tale about what happens when children feel unseen by their parents and begin searching for love, attention, and excitement in places that promise more than they can deliver—and often come with sinister consequences. The story draws a compelling parallel to real-world dynamics between always-busy parents and their children who, in response to emotional neglect, sometimes seek connection and validation in dangerous places.


At the beginning of the film, Coraline Jones is portrayed as a curious and imaginative girl who has just moved into a drab, unfamiliar apartment complex with her parents. Her mother and father are preoccupied with work—typing away at laptops, distracted, irritable, and dismissive. Their behavior is not intentionally cruel, but it is detached. They provide Coraline with food and shelter, but not attention, warmth, or meaningful interaction. Like many modern parents juggling the demands of careers, bills, and domestic life, they unintentionally neglect Coraline’s emotional needs, leaving her starved for affection and engagement.


This neglect forms the emotional groundwork for Coraline’s vulnerability to the Other World. When Coraline discovers a hidden door that leads to a magical, mirrored version of her own world, she is drawn into a place where everything seems better. Her “Other Mother” is warm, affectionate, and attentive—baking her favorite meals, playing games, and showering her with love. The colors are brighter, the atmosphere more playful, and the environment tailored to Coraline’s every desire. In short, it’s everything her real life is not.


The constant pressure to manage careers, finances, and household responsibilities often drives parents to seek quick relief in the form of digital escapism. Social media offers distraction, entertainment, and even validation—an easy outlet for adults trying to cope with the grind of everyday life. But in chasing their own brief moments of mental escape, many parents fail to notice the emotional distance growing between themselves and their children. They may assume their presence in the home is enough, not realizing that true connection requires attentiveness, conversation, and engagement. Coraline serves as a powerful metaphor for this disconnect, warning that children left emotionally unattended may wander into “Other Worlds”—both literal and metaphorical—in search of the love and attention they’re missing at home.


In Coraline, the titular character’s emotional neglect stems from parents who are physically present but mentally and emotionally elsewhere—immersed in work, distractions, and personal stress. This dynamic closely mirrors today’s parenting challenges, especially in the age of smartphones and social media. Many modern parents, though well-intentioned, often become absorbed in their digital lives—scrolling through feeds, answering emails, or managing work through their phones.


While these actions may seem harmless or even necessary, they can create a barrier between parent and child, leaving children feeling unseen and unimportant. Like Coraline, today’s children may quietly retreat into their own worlds, seeking attention, connection, or excitement from alternate sources—some of which may be harmful or deceptive.


In the film the apparent paradise that Coraline believes she has found, quickly reveals itself as a trap, not unlike some parents that awaken to realize that incredible amounts of time have passed while immersed in their devices. Time they can’t recover.


The Other Mother is a monstrous entity who uses love and attention as bait, luring children into a web of control and ultimately destruction. Her kindness is a facade; what she offers is not real love, but manipulation. Coraline is offered everything she thinks she wants—on the condition that she gives up her freedom and identity by sewing buttons into her eyes. The horror of this proposition reflects the ultimate danger of looking for love in the wrong places: the loss of self, autonomy, and safety.


The symbolism in Coraline is clear. The Other World represents the seductive danger of escapism, especially for children whose emotional needs are unmet. When a child feels unloved or unimportant, they become susceptible to people, places, or ideologies that promise quick fixes or unconditional attention. In the real world, this can take the form of predatory relationships, risky behaviors, or online communities that exploit vulnerability. The film uses fantasy to illustrate a very real psychological and social dynamic.


Moreover, Coraline subtly critiques the modern culture of busyness. The parents’ unavailability is not due to malicious intent, but to overwhelming distraction. They are physically present but emotionally absent, caught in the grind of deadlines and obligations. This resonates with many family dynamics today, where devices, jobs, and stress erode the time and energy parents can give to their children. It raises an important question: what are the long-term effects of benign neglect on a child's emotional development?


Yet the story does not end in despair. Coraline’s journey becomes one of growth, resilience, and understanding. She recognizes the difference between real love—which includes boundaries, imperfection, and effort—and counterfeit affection that masks darker intentions. When she returns to her real world, she gains a deeper appreciation for her imperfect but genuine parents, who in turn begin to show more awareness of her needs. The film concludes on a hopeful note, suggesting that communication and presence, however flawed, are more valuable than empty perfection.


In essence, Coraline is a modern fairy tale that delivers a profound message: children need to be seen, heard, and valued. When they are not, they may go searching for those things in unsafe places, drawn to illusions that conceal danger. The film urges parents to pay attention—not just with their eyes, but with their hearts—and reminds us all that love, though not always dazzling, is defined by authenticity, not fantasy.


I encourage you to watch Coraline again. If you haven’t seen it I promise the animation alone which often took days to complete one to two minutes of film will astound you. It’s Ray Harryhausen on steroids. So take a seat, shut all the lights off, crank up the sound system and follow the black cat down the rabbit hole (or in this case, the mouse hole) and see what it reveals to you this time. Physically being somewhere doesn’t always mean you’re actually there, and let’s face it…our kids are all way smarter than we give them credit for.

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