#aestethics

Controversially, I have always been a big believer that The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) is the ultimate November Movie. Not to say that those who watch it on the run-up to Halloween or as part of their regular Christmas movie bundle are wrong; at the end of the day, I’m an even bigger believer in diversity of movie-watching habits. If you want to re-watch Shrek in 3D alone while dining out on an elaborately expensive wine and cheese board, you go for it.

Ultimately, I am not here to convince you to stop watching The Nightmare Before Christmas every other month apart from November. Instead, I’m here to simply elaborate on why I believe the aesthetics of The Nightmare Before Christmas lend themselves to being a perfect November flick.

But first, before I fully dive into the aesthetics of the film, I must discuss a little about November itself. November, much like the majority of the film's runtime, is situated between Halloween and Christmas, two massive holidays with unique, iconic and in some ways contradictory aesthetics. Halloween is bombastic, theatrical and macabre. It is a celebration of all things spooky and monstrous. While Christmas is associated with cosiness, peace and wonder. A time to be jolly, watch bright sparkling lights and wait for Santa Claus. In comparison, November doesn’t have a large-scale, fantastical and supernatural-style celebration. Most of the holidays and observances that take place in November are either less decorative (Guy Fawkes Night, Thanksgiving, and Remembrance Day) or are more grounded in religious and cultural practices (Day of the Dead, the potential start of Hanukkah, and sometimes Diwali). Hence, November can often be understood as a transitional period between these two larger holiday periods. A chapter of reflection and change as autumn shifts to winter. And The Nightmare Before Christmas understands this, that November also has a feel to it, a certain aesthetic. An aesthetic that this film is able to perfectly represent, alongside also expertly representing the style of Halloween and Christmas.

Now, that’s enough of boringly banging on about the real world. It’s now the fun part to fully descend into the aesthetics of this movie. To keep it neat, I’m gonna do this in two sections. First, it’ll be how the film encapsulates the aesthetics of Halloween and Christmas, and then the second section will be dedicated to how the film’s aesthetics convey the feel of November.

How does The Nightmare Before Christmas achieve the feel of Halloween and encapsulate the ambience of Christmas?:

The answer to the title question is probably pretty obvious to anyone who has seen the movie. Within the film, our main character literally lives within a place called Halloween Town, and he goes on a journey to Christmas Town. On the surface level, Halloween Town achieves the feel of Halloween by using both dark and light-hearted imagery. The town is dark and has death imagery like gravestones, but it also has glowing orange pumpkins and a large warm moon. Not to mention the theatrical magnificence the town puts on for their pumpkin king ceremony. In contrast, Christmas Town is bursting with Christmassy aesthetics. In the centre, there is a large Christmas tree adorned with sweet little lights. Around the tree is a cluster of quaint little cottages, looking as if they were made out of gingerbread. And everywhere is covered in sparkling soft snow. At points, you can even see the Northern Lights in the background. The set design for both towns is immaculate and does exactly what it says on the tin.

Going a little deeper, the film has been able to represent both holidays so well because it is a stop motion picture, which has given the film an added, creepy yet also charming quality. Halloween Town looks creepier because the buildings are unnaturally shaped with jagged edges, abnormal curvature and windows which appear to be eyes lairing down upon you. And the townsfolk are creepier because of their distance from humankind. Whether that be Jack’s smile becoming impossibly larger than his skull made from clay, the painted-on look of the major’s two faces or seeing the fabric stuffing that filled Sally’s leg – all of these little textual and craft-based details add to the uncomfortable, otherworldly and strange feel of the townsfolk, and by extension the entirety of Halloween Town. Furthermore, Christmas Town looks even more charming because everything looks small and toylike. The set design isn’t trying to look like a realistic set where full-grown actors could prance around on. The candy cane street lights look like you could pick them up with one hand, and that’s delightful. Everything is so dainty and visually delicious. It is a perfect representation of Christmas.

So, there are really two answers to this section's title question ‘How does the movie do it?’. Well, the movie does it through the use of incredible set design and through utilising the benefits of the medium of stop frame animation, such as the lack of a tie to realism. As this is what has given Halloween Town’s architecture and people their distinctly unnatural proportions and look, it is also what has caused Christmas Town to be so unrealistically dainty and cosy.

How does The Nightmare Before Christmas convey the feeling of November?:

One of the most iconic visuals for The Nightmare Before Christmas is the famous spiralling hill in front of the large yellow moon. The first time we see this visual is when Jack, our main character, is walking up it singing ‘Jack's Lament’, a song where he reflects upon his life as the pumpkin king, confessing that he longs for change. As he is singing, you also see glances of Sally hiding in the shadows of an otherwise empty graveyard. She’s connecting to his song, as she, too, is seeking change. The hill is illuminated by the bright moon, a symbol of change and longing, yet the rest of the scene is dark, empty and melancholy. The music and the setting of this scene work amazingly well together to convey that our characters are transitioning from Halloween into November. A time which is more stripped back than Halloween, less bombastic. A period of reflection and transition as the nights become darker. It is a beautiful part of the movie that evokes popular motion picture imagery of a character moving to higher ground to symbolise them going on a journey or attempting to reach a significant goal.

We return to the spiral hill at the end of the movie, this time with Jack and Sally knowingly together. The hill is covered in snow, which twinkles in the moonlight. Our pair are at peace as although Jack couldn’t pull off Christmas, they have gained the change they craved at the beginning of the film, for now they have each other. Again, it is a beautiful scene where we see Jack starting from the bottom of the hill, where he must climb his way up it, serenading Sally before reaching the summit to embrace her. They have made it out of the transition period (November) and have settled with each other as the snow has fallen in late December.

So, how does the film’s aesthetics convey the feeling of November? Simply, the movie’s music, setting and character placements were able to perfectly visualise the character’s feelings of reflection and longing for change. And once that meaningful change had come, the setting also changed from Halloween to Winter, marking an end to our character’s transition period.

In Conclusion:

The Nightmare Before Christmas is a wonderfully stylised film, and whether you watch it in November or never in November, nothing detracts from the wonderfully well-crafted, creepily charming nature the movie continues to have even 32 years after its original release. If anything, the age has only increased the creep and doubled the charm.