Why Were You Born?: An Analysis of the Anti-Feminist Implications of the Film Adaptation of Coraline

It is no secret that the fictional realm of Neil Gaiman is loaded with feminist possibilities. In fact, in the time since Gaiman has risen to critical attention, entire conference panels have been devoted to exploring the feminist implications of his many novels, short stories, picture books, and graphic novels. Moreover, an edited collection of essays on the subject, entitled Feminism in the Worlds of Neil Gaiman: Essays on the Comics, Poetry and Prose (2012), was recently published. Gaiman has been lauded for years by feminist critics for his ability to create strong, independent female protagonists, especially in his works for children. Coraline, Gaiman’s 2002 children’s novella, offers an excellent illustration of the author’s capacity to create strong female heroines who use their own resourcefulness and independence to overcome whatever complicated (and often terrifying) situation they may have found themselves in. In 2009, the film adaptation of Coraline was released. Henry Selick—most known for his direction of Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas and The Corpse Bride—was responsible for not only directing the film, but for adapting Gaiman’s novel for its new medium as well. Probably the most strikingly noticeable dissimilarity between Gaiman’s novel and Selick’s film is the inclusion of Wyborn “Wybie” Lovat, a male character not present in the novel, who is introduced into the film for no other purpose than to provide Coraline with someone to talk to while she is exploring the “other” world (according to Selick). However, Wybie’s role ultimately extends much further than Selick originally intended. In fact, through Wybie’s intervention, Coraline is later able to escape the “other” world and the deadly clutches of her “Other Mother.” Furthermore, it is Wybie who destroys the hand of the “Other Mother” in the real world, just before the two collectively trap the severed hand down the well at the movie’s conclusion. The problem with many of Wybie’s actions within the film is, of course, that in Gaiman’s novel, these are things that Coraline does herself. Because of this repeated intervention by a male character, Wybie’s presence in the film often undermines Coraline’s strength and independence, thereby effectively robbing Gaiman’s original story of much of its feminist thrust. Due to the anti-feminist problems that Wybie’s character creates, several logical questions follow: what is Wybie’s true function in the film? Was Selick’s decision cultural, commercial, or merely practical? What does the refusal to allow for a strong, independent female character in Selick’s film say about our current cultural climate? This analysis seeks to answer these questions while taking into account the broader social implications of Selick’s decision to dilute Gaiman’s feminist agenda in his film adaptation of Coraline.