CoralineConcept Design

Pete Kozachik, ASC details his
approach to the 3-D digital
stop-motion feature Coraline, whose
heroine discovers a sinister world
behind the walls of her new home.
by Pete Kozachik, ASC

xciting events tend to happen as
soon as conditions are right, and
Henry Selick’s stop-motion
feature Coraline, based on Neil
Gaiman’s supernatural novella,
rides in on a host of new innova-
tions, including advanced machine-
vision cameras and the emergence of
practical 3-D. Most instrumental was
the birth of Laika Entertainment,
Phil Knight’s startup animation
company in Oregon, fresh and eager
to try something new.

I made it a priority to line up
talented and experienced camera-
men early. Leading their three-man
units were cinematographers John
Ashlee, Paul Gentry, Mark Stewart,
Peter Sorg, Chris Peterson, Brian
Van’t Hul, Peter Williams and Frank
Passingham. Most of the camera
assistants and electricians had shoot-
ing experience of their own, making
the camera department pretty well
bulletproof. With more than 55
setups working at the same time, we
needed guys who were quick, orga-
nized and versatile.
From the beginning, we knew
the two worlds Coraline inhabits —
the drab “Real World” and the
fantastic “Other World” — would be
distorted mirror images of each
other, as different in tone as Kansas
and Oz. Camera and art depart-
ments would create the differences,
keeping the emphasis on Coraline’s
feelings. Among the closest film
references for the supernatural
Other World were the exaggerated
color schemes in Amélie, which we
used when the Other Mother is
enticing Coraline to stay with her.
The Shining and The Orphanage
provided good reference for interiors
when things go awry.
Image banks such as
flickr.com were a good source for
reference pics, and including those
shots in my lighting and camera
notes helped jump-start crews on
new sequences. Artist Tadahiro
Uesugi supplied a valuable influence
for the show; his work has a graphic
simplicity, like fashion art from the
Fifties, with minimal modeling but
an awareness of light. It helped in
spirit to guide us away from excess
gingerbread, which is typical in both
art and lighting for stop-motion.
Before hiring on, I sought
a way to improve on limitations
of digital SLRs we encountered
on Corpse Bride (AC Oct. ’05). On
that show, fuzzy video-tap images
were animators’ most common
complaint. Most promising was the

workable beta version before moving
on to other projects. It is an exciting
step forward with a lot of features,
including 3-D diagnostics and two-
way serial communication with
Kuper motion-control. Our only
seriously missed target was capture
speed, which I hope to revisit with
new data-transfer technology.
While we were in prep, RealD
founder Lenny Lipton told Henry
about his new 3-D system. Henry saw
its creative storytelling potential and
believed it would help immerse the
audience in our handcrafted worlds.
One short visit to RealD fired my
enthusiasm; Lenny’s process had
overcome every technical snag that
made 3-D infamous, taking inge-
nious advantage of D-Cinema to
make it smooth and dependable. His
vision of 3-D as a new tool for the
cinematographer was infectious.
We sought the advice of several
other 3-D advisers who provided
basic theory, knowledge from first-
hand experience and strongly held
opinions that were not always in
agreement. Lenny wisely noted that
we had to choose which advice to
follow and find our own way.
To follow this story, one must
understand two 3-D parameters:
interocular distance and convergence.
Interocular distance (IO) is the
distance between left and right eyes; it
affords us the separate views we inter-
pret as 3-D roundness. By adjusting
IO, we can expand or contract the
3-D volume of a shot. Convergence is
the amount our eyes toe-in to align
both images of an object; it gives us a
sense of our distance from an object.
On Coraline, we worked backwards,
adjusting alignment of image pairs to
control audience eye convergence.
That way, we could pull objects out of
the screen or push them back.
Because puppets hold still for
multiple exposures, we could shift a
single camera left and right to
capture both 3-D views. That was the
beginning of our “3-D sliders.” My
first instinct had a two-axis rig sliding

Left: Animator
Travis Knight
works on a
scene in Dad’s
“Real” study.
Below:
Coraline’s
“Other” father
puts an
entertaining
spin on things in
the “Other”
version of the
same space.
horizontally to achieve the desired
IO and back-panning to converge on
objects. Lenny advised leaving out
the convergence axis and aligning in
post by sliding one image over the
other. We needed extra picture width
for that maneuver, which a 3K crop
of our 4K sensors allowed.
Armed with a couple of
prototype 3-D sliders, John Ashlee
began experimenting with using
forced-perspective sets without
tipping our hand. We learned that a
1 ? 2 -scale background looked natural
in normal stereo, and a ?-scale
background would work in weaker
stereo. We made a composite of
several elements built at different
scales, scaling a camera move to
match, to see if a composite in 3-D
would hold together. It sounded
promising, and it works just fine as
long as you carefully set up each
element, scaling everything, espe-
cially distance to camera and the IO
distance.
Paul Gentry set out to empiri-
cally determine benchmarks for IO
distance. He shot puppets in a
matrix of close-up, medium and
full-body shots at different focal
lengths and IOs. We projected each
frame in 3-D and rated puppet heads
for normal, extreme and reduced
roundness. Not surprisingly, we
found that the closer you get to the
subject, the smaller the IO you need.
And we quickly found out how
painful excessive IO can be ?
painful enough to pull an audience
right out of the narrative, if not the
theater.
The big surprise was how little
it takes to create a normal sense of
roundness. We reasoned that
puppets would look natural by
setting IO as measured between
Coraline?s puppet eyes vs. the
distance between a pair of human
eyes ? 19mm puppet vs. 64mm
human. But to our surprise, normal-
feeling roundness in puppet close-
ups ranged from 1-3mm IO, and in
wide shots from 3-10mm IO.
We had simplified by limiting
the test to a single subject, a good
starting point in setting up shots and
helpful for newcomers to the show.
But things quickly got more complex
in deep sets that featured objects
both close to and far from camera. At
that point, we needed more than an
IO cheat sheet; we had to rack up
enough experience to make
informed judgment calls. As with any
other aspect of cinematography, with
experience, we gained confidence
and a more instinctive approach.
We all agreed 3-D had to be
used to enhance story and mood, like
any other photo technique. Along
with the story arc, lighting arc and
color script, we decided to impose a
complementary ?stereo arc? on the
show. Henry wanted 3-D depth to
differentiate the Real World from the
Other World specifically in sync with
what Coraline is feeling. To do that,
we kept the Real World at a reduced
stereo depth, suggesting Coraline?s
flat outlook, and used full 3-D in the
Other World. At first, full 3-D opens
up a better world for Coraline, but
when things go bad, we carefully
exaggerate stereo depth to match her
distress.
3-D adviser Brian Gardner
pointed out the emotional effects of
placing a subject behind or in front
of the screen. Similar to shooting up

or down on a character, we could
assign power in a confrontation
scene by thrusting a character out
into the theater, with the weaker
position being behind the screen.
The technique also helped to
emphasize moods as different as inti-
macy and menace. We found that a
setting receding deeply behind
screen creates a sense of space and
freedom and is more effective at
evoking pleasant feelings than bring-
ing everything out into the theater.
You might notice this in Coraline’s
establishing shots, interior as well as
exterior. Sometimes we did the
opposite, crowding images into
theater space to invoke claustropho-
bia or discomfort.
A particularly involved use of
3-D included a big effort from the art
department. Henry wanted to create
a sense of confinement to suggest
Coraline’s feelings of loneliness and
boredom in her new home. His idea
had interiors built with a strong
forced perspective and shot in 3-D to
give conflicting cues on how deep
the rooms really were. Later, we see
establishing shots of the more
appealing Other World rooms shot
from the same position but built
with normal perspective. The
compositions match in 2-D, but the
3-D depth cues evoke a different feel
for each room. These “master twin”
shots depended on building the
forced-perspective sets to an exact
camera position. New angles usually
required a new build.
Because IO was run on a
motion-control channel, we could
change it during a shot. We had the
same freedom to animate alignment
in post. The combination became a
powerful tool for creative work as
well as solving technical issues. The
most common use was on camera
trucks that went from wide views to
extreme close-ups. In one case, we
animated the IO from 0.5mm to
18mm, starting on a frame-filling
face and ending on a wide shot of
house and yard. This allowed a deep

3-D effect at the wide end while
making it easy for the audience to
fuse left and right in the close-up.
We also tried animating IO
settings on locked-off close-ups,
hoping to get an effect as startling as
Hitchcock’s simultaneous zoom-
and-dolly trick. For better or worse,
it is barely noticeable — viewers
unconsciously adjust to compensate.
Our production cameras
comprised 38 MegaPlus EC11000s
and eight Nikon D80s, and our
primary lenses were Tamron and
Sigma zooms and Nikkor primes
ranging from 14mm to 105mm.
With very few exceptions, we did not
compromise lighting and camera-
work for 3-D constraints. Contrast
and depth of field remained useful
creative tools, requiring just a little
extra care, as did camera movement.
We used composition, color, focal
length and filtration in a wide, unre-
stricted range, concentrating on
storytelling.
One of our larger scenes

depicts an apple orchard that occu-
pied several sets up to 30' long and
20' deep. Mark Stewart shot two
sequences there using 5K and 2K
sources — larger lights than usual
for stop-motion, but the reduced
exposure time helped animators
keep their rhythm. He used blue and
pale-green gels, tight contrast ratios,
large bounced sources and a soft key
as the recipe for impending rain.
Motion-controlled gobos provided
subtle, moving cloud shadows.
He switched to cooler gels and
higher contrast for a scary moon-
light battle pitting Coraline and her
friend, Wybie, against a disembodied
hand. We played key continuity
looser in this rapid-cutting
sequence, concentrating on making
powerful images. I doubt most view-
ers will notice that, but they will feel
the scene change to awkward pre-
teen romance, played a little brighter
and with lower contrast for a
happier mood.
Our first “master twin” shot is
in the Real Kitchen, wide on
Coraline and her mother against the
window. Paul Gentry used direc-
tional soft boxes to throw backlight
in through the window, with just
enough front fill to keep it all look-
ing rainy and bleak. Later, we see the
same composition but on a much
more appealing Other World
kitchen. Paul used rose and yellow
gels on focal spots to create pools
and wall scrapes, making the set
bright and warm. By gradually dark-
ening walls farther from center, he
made the kitchen a stronger lure.
John Ashlee’s Real World
version of Dad’s Study has a rainy-
day window key similar to that in the
kitchen but accomplished with
cheater lights, as the window was too
small and distant to carry the load.
In one shot, we see Coraline and her
father reflected in his ancient
computer monitor. John tried
valiantly to set it up for real, even
making a 2" working display, but
optical geometry wasn’t on our side.
Instead, he shot both reflected faces
separately, and they were later
composited along with a real
computer display.
The most finicky “master
twin” interiors were Coraline’s Real
and Other bedrooms, also
photographed by John Ashlee. His
challenge was a moving-camera
match-dissolve in 3-D that was
complicated by two sets with radi-
cally different physical depths. It
took numerous move tests and
rebuilding architecture, even
bedposts, to line up on a pivotal
frame in the dissolve, followed by
extra finesse in post. John lit each
bedroom for maximum difference
in mood; Other bedroom scenes had
warm practicals and multiple spots
shaping and picking out details
designed to delight, but it was never
overly bright, allowing bright moon-
light to play a part. In stark contrast,
he rendered the Real bedroom with
chilly soft light from the overcast sky.

To create a magic, self-illumi-
nated garden, Paul Gentry balanced
a combination of fiber-optics, small
incandescents and LEDs embedded
in fanciful animated flowers, plus
black-light-activated paint. I suspect
the growing flowers will be mistaken
for CG work, but it is all real stuff.
Sometimes we shot Coraline sepa-
rately so flowers could be animated
in reverse by trimming them frame-
by-frame.
Frank Passingham rendered a
more dangerous version of the
garden, tinting it with poisonous
green moonlight and carefully
diminishing glowing plants while
raising contrast. In quite the oppo-
site tone, he made the Other house
exterior a beacon of light, overpow-
ering the full moon with warm prac-
ticals in windows, outdoor lanterns
and architectural lighting. In effect,
the house itself became the key light
for a charming conversation
between Coraline and a wise cat.
I wish George Pal were alive to
accept our salute to his 1940s-era
Puppetoons. He would smile in
recognition at a sequence using
sequentially sculpted series of
figurines rather than flexible
puppets. Brian Van’t Hul shot a rous-
ing brass band of circus mice march-
ing in formation, requiring
animators to keep track of hundreds
of replacement mice and change out
each mouse for each frame. Brian,
who was also the show’s visual-
effects supervisor, juggled different
scales of sets and characters with
complex camera moves throughout
the scene.
I discovered that real circuses
aren’t lit with great finesse, so to
create more magic, Brian enhanced
the tent interior with Mini Flos
washing up walls for a more appeal-
ing background. The mice them-
selves worked in hard-edged
spotlight that was brighter and
cooler than the background. Brian
also rigged a few practicals overhead
for atmosphere, creating hot points
of blown-out circus colors. For
reverse angles on Coraline, he used
soft uplight to suggest bounce from
the spectacle offscreen.
Coraline discovers an opulent
19th century theater in the Other
basement, where she enjoys a vintage
burlesque followed by a breathtaking
trapeze act. Peter Sorg used many
MR16 architectural lights to streak
up walls and low-voltage halogens
for footlights. Adding other practi-
cals, mini spotlights on motion-
control movers and a central China
ball for fill, Peter surpassed the
grandeur of our reference, which was
the London Opera House.
We took full advantage of 3-D
in the trapeze act, and I suggest you
see the movie twice so you can watch
this scene with glasses on and off. It is
an effective use of animated IO and
convergence; it adds scope and
excitement without nuking the
eyeballs.
Peter turned right around and
relit his theater sets for a much
spookier note. Coraline’s flashlight
and some very dimmed-down prac-
ticals provide the apparent sources;
they were augmented with focal
spots and mini-profiles that we hope
will go unnoticed. A blazing spot-
light comes on to reveal a cocoon in
the form of a large taffy wrapper,
overpowering any other lighting.

Peter carefully balanced background
practicals to remain just visible
enough to describe the space but
draw no attention.
In a more somber sequence,
Peter used a fireplace as a flickering
source on Coraline, who sits alone in
a dark room as the embers die. A
wide shot emphasizes her isolation as
the firelight grads off quickly from
where she sits. Small bulbs in the fire-
place were rigged to flicker in sync
with off-screen focal spots under
DMX motion-control.
The Other living room takes
on three separate characters, the first
being a duplicate of the dreary night
look in Coraline’s Real World. The
second phase is a colorful come-on
in which every piece of furniture
glows as a saturated neon source.
The self-illuminated props had clus-
ters of red, green and blue surface-
mount LEDs embedded throughout
their translucent silicone forms. By
adjusting the colors on separate
DMX dimmer channels, Chris
Peterson could match production art
without using gels. Backlit purple
walls were created with traditional
gels on movie lights, but the out-of-
gamut color came back bluish. We
got closer by reddening them to the
point where they looked completely
wrong on set but just fine when
photographed. The room comes to
life as furniture and lamps dim up in
an overlapping cascade of light cues.
Steve Switaj fabricated a DMX card
that could handle 48 channels, more
than normally available under Kuper
control, and Chris used every one of
them.
At one point, Coraline is
thrust into a dark, dank iron-plate
cell where she meets three pale-green
ghost children. Chris Peterson shot
the ghosts separately on motion-
controlled rods against greenscreen
that covered the set walls. The same
motion-control rigs rep