WARNING: spoilers below
It's a sad reality, but the truth is, no one is immune from the various horrors of the real world, whether it by death, emotional sorrow, or even war, and that's especially true for those among us who are the least prepared to deal with them, particularly children; in fact, the helplessness of childhood can often actually magnify such horrors, and make them even worse than they already are, leaving the people affected desperate for any sort of escape from them. And, what better escape than the one that's offered to us in cinema, the artform that's given people temporary relief from reality for well over a century now? However, rather than serving as a denial of such reality, Guillermo del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth serves as a cold reaffirmation of it, yet one that derives its power from the way that it blends the real with the fantastical, creating what is, at the risk of sounding hyperbolic, an absolute masterpiece, as a film that's not only my favorite from del Toro to date, but also just one of my favorite movies of all time.
It tells the story of Ofelia, a highly imaginative girl who's forced to move to the Spanish countryside with her pregnant mother, in order to live with her cruel, sadistic stepfather, an army captain who's waging a brutal campaign to eradicate the last of the local rebels in the area, left over in the aftermath of the country's civil war. Faced with this harsh new reality, Ofelia begins escaping into a fantasy world with the help of an ancient Faun (the purveyor of the titular "labyrinth"), who gives her three tasks to complete before the next full moon, in order for her to achieve immortality, and return to the idyllic underground kingdom that she supposedly came from, where Ofelia's real family is awaiting her return (or so he claims). And so, undertaking this quest, Ofelia must deal with the lines between her fantasy and reality, and the various kinds of horrors contained within both realms, becoming increasingly ambigious and blurred, as she becomes ever more desperate to find an escape from her cruel new life, and the conflict outside creeps closer and closer to her front door.
Because of all this, Pan's Labyrinth ends up being a highly unique mixture of genres, blending disparate elements of Fantasy, Horror, and War films all into one, but it's a mix that del Toro makes work superbly well together, by taking his time to build the world here, and maintaining a tonal consistency even as he "shifts gears", with the horrors of the rich fantasy world serving to be almost as disturbing as the stomach-churning violence of the actual guerrilla warfare depicted outside it, as the two tones serve to compliment each other, making us sympathize with Ofelia's desperate plight, and yearn for an escape from it right along with her, creating a dark, violent fairy tale that's experienced by a child, but one that holds just as much weight (if not moreso) for the adults watching it.
Besides that, Pan's also excels on a technical & emotional level, with its eerie, darkly enchanting tone, rich color hues, and ornate sets and production design bringing the murky underworld within it to undeniable life, as its elaborate fantasy setpieces, lead by a solitary Ofelia all on her own, make us feel just as immersed in them as she does. Additionally, del Toro's lifelong fascination with fantastical creatures reaches its creative peak here, particularly with the character of The Faun, who, even buried underneath a mountain's worth of makeup and prosthetics, still very much comes alive with the wise, earthy performance of frequent del Toro collaborator Doug Jones stealing the show. Of course, he's far from the only memorable character here, as Sergi López's Captain Vidal proves to be just as memorable a presence, even in a far more grounded form, as his particular brand of authoritarian evil serves to horrify just as much as any of the creatures in the film, in a way that is as as chilling as it is believable, proving that the evil of people in the real world can be just as bad, if not worse, than the monsters of our imaginations.
Finally, on that note, Pan's Labyrinth leaves a lasting impression with its political themes, and the way it deconstructs the message of many fairytales that are designed to instill obediance in children, by creating an ode to the virtue of disobediance in the face of oppression, a message that has become sadly more urgent in the decade and a half since its release (for more detail, go watch the Nerdwriter1's excellent video essay on Youtube on the subject). But, outside of its particular historical or political contexts, the greatest power of Pan's ultimately lies on a personal level, particularly with its tragic ending, which is set to the haunting sound of a forgotten lullaby, and the sight of a fading life proving to be one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever seen in a film, albeit in the most beautiful of ways; do you dare enter?
It's a sad reality, but the truth is, no one is immune from the various horrors of the real world, whether it by death, emotional sorrow, or even war, and that's especially true for those among us who are the least prepared to deal with them, particularly children; in fact, the helplessness of childhood can often actually magnify such horrors, and make them even worse than they already are, leaving the people affected desperate for any sort of escape from them. And, what better escape than the one that's offered to us in cinema, the artform that's given people temporary relief from reality for well over a century now? However, rather than serving as a denial of such reality, Guillermo del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth serves as a cold reaffirmation of it, yet one that derives its power from the way that it blends the real with the fantastical, creating what is, at the risk of sounding hyperbolic, an absolute masterpiece, as a film that's not only my favorite from del Toro to date, but also just one of my favorite movies of all time.
It tells the story of Ofelia, a highly imaginative girl who's forced to move to the Spanish countryside with her pregnant mother, in order to live with her cruel, sadistic stepfather, an army captain who's waging a brutal campaign to eradicate the last of the local rebels in the area, left over in the aftermath of the country's civil war. Faced with this harsh new reality, Ofelia begins escaping into a fantasy world with the help of an ancient Faun (the purveyor of the titular "labyrinth"), who gives her three tasks to complete before the next full moon, in order for her to achieve immortality, and return to the idyllic underground kingdom that she supposedly came from, where Ofelia's real family is awaiting her return (or so he claims). And so, undertaking this quest, Ofelia must deal with the lines between her fantasy and reality, and the various kinds of horrors contained within both realms, becoming increasingly ambigious and blurred, as she becomes ever more desperate to find an escape from her cruel new life, and the conflict outside creeps closer and closer to her front door.
Because of all this, Pan's Labyrinth ends up being a highly unique mixture of genres, blending disparate elements of Fantasy, Horror, and War films all into one, but it's a mix that del Toro makes work superbly well together, by taking his time to build the world here, and maintaining a tonal consistency even as he "shifts gears", with the horrors of the rich fantasy world serving to be almost as disturbing as the stomach-churning violence of the actual guerrilla warfare depicted outside it, as the two tones serve to compliment each other, making us sympathize with Ofelia's desperate plight, and yearn for an escape from it right along with her, creating a dark, violent fairy tale that's experienced by a child, but one that holds just as much weight (if not moreso) for the adults watching it.
Besides that, Pan's also excels on a technical & emotional level, with its eerie, darkly enchanting tone, rich color hues, and ornate sets and production design bringing the murky underworld within it to undeniable life, as its elaborate fantasy setpieces, lead by a solitary Ofelia all on her own, make us feel just as immersed in them as she does. Additionally, del Toro's lifelong fascination with fantastical creatures reaches its creative peak here, particularly with the character of The Faun, who, even buried underneath a mountain's worth of makeup and prosthetics, still very much comes alive with the wise, earthy performance of frequent del Toro collaborator Doug Jones stealing the show. Of course, he's far from the only memorable character here, as Sergi López's Captain Vidal proves to be just as memorable a presence, even in a far more grounded form, as his particular brand of authoritarian evil serves to horrify just as much as any of the creatures in the film, in a way that is as as chilling as it is believable, proving that the evil of people in the real world can be just as bad, if not worse, than the monsters of our imaginations.
Finally, on that note, Pan's Labyrinth leaves a lasting impression with its political themes, and the way it deconstructs the message of many fairytales that are designed to instill obediance in children, by creating an ode to the virtue of disobediance in the face of oppression, a message that has become sadly more urgent in the decade and a half since its release (for more detail, go watch the Nerdwriter1's excellent video essay on Youtube on the subject). But, outside of its particular historical or political contexts, the greatest power of Pan's ultimately lies on a personal level, particularly with its tragic ending, which is set to the haunting sound of a forgotten lullaby, and the sight of a fading life proving to be one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever seen in a film, albeit in the most beautiful of ways; do you dare enter?
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