Celebrating vision, craft, resourcefulness and courage in story, theme and execution, Henry “Nightmare Before Christmas” Selick’s latest stop motion scary-tale—based on Newberry Award winner Neil Gaiman’s book—is the first hand-animated feature ever to be made specifically for 3D. And “Coraline” is nothing short of a storytelling victory.

As an only child recently transplanted to a dreary old manse in the foggy hills of Oregon, our young heroine (voiced by the ever plucky Dakota Fanning) has lost all her friends and finds herself looking for something, anything, to do. Her workaholic parents, employing a disheartening policy of benign neglect, leave her also searching for someone, anyone, who might listen to a thing she says.

Rattling around her family’s rambling apartment trying to entertain herself, she discovers a curious little door. Papered over and locked shut, it’s a clear invitation to mystery and adventure. Naturally, she finds the key, opens it up, and boldly crawls directly in.

Like so many rabbit holes and twister rides that have come before, this particular door leads to another world. One difference, however, is how utterly familiar this world turns out to be. On the other end of a stretching tunnel, Coraline finds a mirror image of the life she just left, only this one is bright and deep and colorful. In this rich and happy Otherverse, fireflies circle her and sing and flowers come alive to tickle her in her Other Father’s glorious garden. Everyone there dotes on her and treats her like she’s the center of the universe. Her Other Mother spins delightful glamours with hand-knit sweaters and her favorite meals.

One peculiar thing, though: everybody’s got buttons sewn where their eyes should be. The Other Mother very charmingly offers her a home in this breathtaking land, but with one little catch: Coraline, too, must button her eyes. And the needle looks sharp.

As Coraline resists becoming one more dollish plaything, The Other Mother becomes progressively more threatening. Appearing initially as a carbon copy of her “real” mother (except for the charming smile and soulless button eyes), she grows ever more haggish and spider-like, and escape to Coraline’s “real” home becomes increasingly difficult. She soon discovers that not only are all the other characters on this side complete fabrications in the Other Mother’s web of enchantments, but also that this beldam has caught other children before. Their helpless captured souls speak to Coraline of centuries of entombed in a stony prison cell behind a magical looking glass. Coraline knows she must escape, and especially after the beldam takes her parents hostage, she’ll have to do it under her own power.

It’s a fabulous change of pace to be shown a little girl as the absolute hero—and without reducing her character to any of the common “snarky attitude” or “child genius” girl stereotypes. Coraline is a complex little creature. Smart, curious, with a little mischief in her, who just happens to be bored out of her gourd with everyday life. A matter-of-fact person in a matter-of-fiction world, her attitude is a clear echo of Sally’s from “Nightmare Before Xmas,” who also proved prepared to step up when the time came to save not only herself, but her loved ones and then some. 

Having been established as an independent, fiercely individual personality, Coraline must fend for herself, and though accepting the aid of a few helping hands (and paws) along the way, she deals with it. She screws up her mouth and furrows her brow and takes necessary steps. It’s a fairly empowering message, to girls, certainly, but to people in general, too. The world may not always be as it seems, and when met by the suspicious or doubtful or scary, keep your eyes open, and take care of business, the movie seems to advise.

The animation is every bit as magical and textured and detailed as any animated work to date. Selick’s use of 3D is an absolutely perfect fit. It’s surprisingly discrete, and employs very few of those tiresome “comin’ atcha” gimmicks so prevalent in previous 3D efforts. And when they do come atcha, they’re perfectly justified. An early shot of a needle poking through a buttonhole and coming out directly at the audience’s eyeballs seems a perfectly appropriate and sinister foreshadow of the dangers Coraline will face. But Selick’s focus is far more on establishing depth within the screen, drawing the audience in just as Coraline is drawn in. There may not have been a more effective use of technical cinematic contrivance since Dorothy Gale stepped out of her busted farmhouse into the blazing Technicolor of Munchkin Land.

Easily the most ambitious and complex undertaking in the long history of ambitious and complex stop motion films, “Coraline” is spooky and startling and remarkable in every way. A fabulous vision of a person refusing to be blinded by even the most tempting of deceptions, and learning that the drabbest of truths is still more valuable than the most vibrant lie. The trick is to make the truth as deep and colorful as you can imagine it.