As I suspect is the case with a lot of little boys and girls, my four-year-old daughter is fascinated by the “dark side.” You know, witches, wizards, monsters, vampires, ghosts, and the like. What’s not to like about these entities for a little kid? All these characters are so left of center from the humdrum, worker bee mentality that is normal everyday life, they can’t but leave a long-lasting influence. They act like a magnet on a child’s creative streak, pulling them in for a closer inspection. For the most part, people in the real world look alike, talk alike, dress alike, think alike, and move alike. They also tend to order little kids around just alike, too. To my daughter, even someone like, say, the little Korean girl who is our neighbor might not speak English or have the same facial structure, but she still walks upright and her mouth moves the same and she has two arms and two legs and she skips and runs pretty much the same. A witch, though, now she looks different. She talks differently. Her skin is different. Her eyes set upon you differently. She creates a presence. Wonderment. She entices and enthralls. She beckons a small child. A witch cooks up curiosity and intrigue in that black kettle of hers. The attraction is pretty obvious when you think about it.
From even before my daughter was two, she was fascinated by vampires. I’m not sure how she was introduced to them. It’s not exactly like we go out of our way to expose her to the dead walking earth. It probably happened around Halloween. At any rate, she was fascinated, to the point all the stories I told her at night had to feature a vampire. During the day, she often asked questions about vampires. Vampire this. Vampire that. Truthfully, it got tiresome after a few months. Still, her curiosity fascinated me. Around the same time she had a similar affinity to ghosts. “Where do they live?” “What do they look like?” “What do they eat?” “When can I see one?”
I tend to believe small children gravitate to the unexplainable because their imaginations’ haven’t been tainted yet. They haven’t been curbed or thwarted or beaten to a nub. Anything is possible, and when that’s the case, children will allow anything to transpire. My older daughter was much the same. She was much more apt, for example, to want to delve into “The Nightmare Before Christmas” than “Mary Poppins,” and I can’t say I blame her. Visually at least, there’s no comparison. Mentally, though, I think there’s an even better payoff. The what-ifs and the if-only’s and the I-wish-I-could’s tend to live on much longer after witnessing characters with unique voices and stylings and personalities than with characters who you seemingly come across hundreds of times a day, so much so they tend to blend into one another. (Next time you’re at a football or basketball with thousands of others, count the number of people who stand out visually.)
Periodically, my four-year-old goes through a “Coraline” phase and watches the movie for several days in a row. Such has been the case the past several days. I’m not one of those parents who objects to repeated viewings of a movie. It might be irritating, depending on the movie, but it’s understandable. After all, how many adults watch films and pick up every nuance the first time through? Not many, and adults presumably possess a more advanced mind (although creatively, I’m not so sure). I completely understand her fascination with Coraline the character, and I find myself in the same boat.
Coraline is a strong female. Bonus. Coraline is adventuresome and daring. Bonus. Coraline is willing to do battle for what she believes is right. Definite bonus. Coraline, at times, is lonely and disenfranchised having left her old friends behind to move to a new house and town. What little kid hasn’t been left to feel lonely or isolated after asking adult after adult or older sibling after older sibling to play, only to be told, “I can’t right now” or “I’m too busy.” Coraline feels ostracized by her parents, both who are too busy working to pay her the attention she needs. What child hasn’t felt that way at one time or another? But also, Coraline is silly and exuberant and full of life. She’s odd but endearing. Her friends are the same. Best of all, Coraline can enter and engage in other worlds and realities. She can exist in two places: the what is and the what could be. She can literally have the best of both worlds, and what’s not enthralling about that. Why wouldn’t a kid want to sit through repeated viewings and experience that sensation of ultimate freedom?
Some might argue that “Coraline” isn’t appropriate viewing for a four-year-old. I’d argue they’re wrong. I’d also question if they’ve attempted to watch the movie through the eyes of a child or did they just arrive at their assumptions based on the movie’s visuals and deem it too creepy or uncomfortable just become it appears “different”—something so many people do with so many things, including skin color, clothes, hair styles, uniforms, etc. Little kids don’t see those barriers, and they don’t see “evil” unless they’re taught to. Left to make up their own minds, they’ll see options or exceptions or possibilities. Thank god, little kids don’t see black and white.
Odd as it might seem to be thankful and feel fortunate for a fictional character, I feel both for “Coraline.” Anything that can create an atmosphere and environment that visually, audibly, and mentally breaks free of the norm and that provokes thought rather than dictates how one should think is OK in my book, or in this case, on my screen.
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