For years the works of Neil Gaiman have lined our bookshelves and dominated our screens. I even remember my school teachers waving a copy of Coraline in front of us in the hopes of getting us hooked on the fantasy worlds built up by Gaiman’s imagination – whimsical, original and delightfully strange. In fact, Gaiman’s Coraline left a number of children with a rather obscure fear of buttons. But the creepiness that surrounds Coraline has regrettably no longer remained simply fictional.
In July 2023, Tortoise Media published a series of podcast episodes accounting various stories of sexual misconduct committed by Gaiman. And following a scathing break-through article written by Lila Shapiro and published by the New York Times on 13 January this year, Gaiman was accused of alleged sexual assault towards eight women. And while this first accusation rocked the world with shock at their favourite author being catapulted into the “cancelled” pit along with many, many other disgraced authors – the truth has slowly but surely become blisteringly disquieting. And this shocking news affected not only Gaiman’s career – now undeniably non-existent – but also the well-awaited West End stage adaptation of Coraline, which had been set to open at the Leeds Playhouse this April. Despite the 2009 stop animation adaptation of the film directed by Henry Selick already being a cult-classic for children’s horror, the Leeds Playhouse wanted to flesh out the story even further.
The show hoped to adapt the beloved children’s book, penned by Gaiman in 2002, into a fantastical whirlwind on-stage adventure, complete with an original musical score by Louis Barrabas, and adapted to the stage by Zinnie Harris. In Harris’ words, the play was on track to be “dark, spangly, clever, quirky and beautifully melodic.” And certainly, the play has become something of a passion project for its creators – the show has already been 12 years in the making. But the show could not go on with all of these allegations looming over it. On the 29 January, the producers published a statement that explained, “From the co-production partners: Leeds Playhouse, Royal Lyceum Theatre Edinburgh, Birmingham Rep, and HOME Manchester. We have decided our production of Coraline – A Musical will not proceed. After careful consideration, we feel it would be impossible to continue in the context of the allegations against its original author.”
The show’s cancellations have provoked mixed feelings for the general public. Ditching a production that had been a decade in the making seems cruel to all of those involved. What about all the hundreds of stage crew, actors, technical crew, writers, composers, musicians, designers (the list could go on) who have worked tirelessly on this project, and will likely have been very proud of what they have accomplished over the years – is it fair to completely scratch a line through everything they have already accomplished? Despite the sale of the show’s rights being financially beneficial to Gaiman, the show expected to tour without profits going to Gaiman in any form.
Despite the initial shock at this decision, it is clear that this was the correct path to take. Even if no profits filtered back to its original creator, the sales of the tickets rely solely on the general public. And most people would feel uncomfortable explaining to their friends why they had chosen to see a play written by an alleged sexual predator. Therefore, the show could not guarantee enough viewers, and consequently, could not guarantee they would make a profit at the end of the show’s run. Or even, pay back all that they had spent during the 12 years in which the show came into fruition.
Unfortunately, whether or not the stage production chose to proceed, the world of Coraline has been forever tainted by Gaiman’s actions. A recent non-fiction novel, Monsters: What Do We Do with Great Art by Bad People? by Claire Dederer, elaborates on this discourse. It analyses this dilemma of having been let down by artists you may have previously looked up to, deceived by the horrific acts committed by the artist, yet secretly still continuing to love the art. Can we ever really enjoy good stories if they are forever tainted by the artist’s appalling actions? It’s undeniable that Coraline is a charmingly whimsical children’s fairytale – erasing it from the world would be a real shame. Ironically, I think Gaiman’s own writing puts it best: “There’s a but, isn’t there?” said Coraline. “I can feel it. Like a rain cloud.”
Image via “Neil Gaiman recites ‘The Day the Saucers Came’” by fakepeterpan is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.