RECURRING NIGHTMARE
By Peter Howell
From
The Toronto Star, 10.27.2000
Among the many reasons to appreciate the simultaneous re-release to theatres
and
DVD of Tim Burton's
The Nightmare Before Christmas is that it's now a
prime example of old-school animation.
Since
Nightmare was released during the Halloween week of 1993, the use
of computer-generated cartoons and special effects in movies has escalated to
the point where it's hard to get excited anymore. If you can imagine something,
a computer can probably make it move. Ho-hum.
Not so with
Nightmare, which required three years of painstaking stop-motion
animation--the old Gumby And Pokey kind you hardly see anymore--to bring to the
screen a wondrously scary vision that Tim Burton had more than a decade earlier
when toiling as a Disney animator.
The characters are all mostly dead in
Nightmare, but the film is alive
with images and song.
It concerns the plight of a skeletal figure named Jack Skellington (voiced by
Chris Sarandon, sung by Danny Elfman) who has grown tired of organizing the ghastly
entertainment in his one-holiday village, Halloween Town.
His frustration is shared by a stitched-together ghoulfriend Sally (voiced by
Catherine O'Hara), who worships Jack from afar.
During a long stroll in the woods, Jack discovers a portal into another village,
one where Christmas is celebrated year round. Suddenly Jack's life, er, death
has new meaning. Move over, Santa!
The Nightmare Before Christmas is a marvellous feat of imagination, a
treat for the eye and ear. It's best appreciated in a movie theatre, but the
DVD offers the added attraction of backstage glimpses: storyboards, deleted scenes
and commentaries by director Henry Selick and photographer Pete Kozachik which
reveal why good stop-motion is so hard to do. It took 180 interchangeable heads,
each with a different look, to give Jack a full range of facial
expressions.
See it, or see it again, but keep in mind that the film could give very young
children nightmares. Jack may be the most lively skeleton since Keith Richards,
but he's no cuddly toy.