Of Fascists and Fairies

There's a part of me that wanted to get a jump on the blurb whores by tossing out the following poster-friendly pullquote — "Not only is Pan's Labyrinth positively a-maze-ing, it's downright Pan-tastic!" But then I thought....maybe not. With Pan's Labyrinth, Guillermo del Toro positions himself somewhere between the art-house and the multiplex by offering up a dark, allegorical fairytale that should appeal to fans of the Mexican helmer's FX-laden output (Hellboy) as well as those who prefer his smaller, less commercial fare. Like 2001's The Devil's Backbone, Pan's Labyrinth is once again set at the end of the Spanish Civil War, though this time it's more Grand Guignol than gothic ghost story. Working within a traditional fairytale construct, the film tells of Ofelia (Ivana Baquero), a young girl who moves with her pregnant mother to an old mill in the forest that has been converted into a military outpost by Captain Vidal (Sergi López), Ofelia's new wicked (and how!) step-father. A fascist obsessed with punctuality (a cracked pocket watch his closest companion), Vidal has been charged with ferreting out resistance fighters hidden in the woods. With her mother bedridden, and forced to fend for herself, Ofelia finds herself drawn into a mysterious world by a somewhat sinister satyr who convinces her that her rightful place is among the fairies in the underground — a magical surrogate to the political underground Vidal is busy dismantling with his thugs. The film alternates between the real world and that of mazes and monsters, though both contain their own brand of terrors — be it a sadistic fascist or horrifying child-eating ogre. Ofelia's journey into the underworld isn't one of escapism, for her trials and torments are even more frightening than those in the real world. Yet whereas a certain ambiguity between good and evil exists in Pan's realm, there's no question about the true evil of fascism. Del Toro never belabors the point, yet this idea is at the crux of the film. Not since Lucile Hadzihalilovic's Innocence has a film forged the perfect marriage of sound and vision. The sound design in Pan's Labyrinth is unforgettable, and creates an endless sense of foreboding — everything from the clik-clak of a giant flying insect to the whispers and hums of the underworld — all enhanced by Javier Navarrete's haunting score. There are some genuinely frightening moments, and one particularly violent scene that would bring a smile to Gaspar Noé's face. This is not a film for the kiddies. Sadly, the film might have difficulty finding an audience. Art house crowds might find its fantastical nature off-putting, while the multiplex crowd might choose to steer clear of subtitles. It's a shame in both cases, for Pan's Labyrinth is a perfect, wholly remarkable film — an uncompromising, emotionally moving adult fairytale that reminds us that the scariest monsters are the human kind. Be sure not to miss one of the great cinematic pleasures of 2006.

Comments

[phyrephox]

Cool cool, I'm pumped by your positive reaction. Can't wait to see it at the NYFF!

[Aaron Hillis]

Hear, hear! Sure it's been a lackluster year (having not been to Cannes, Berlin, Venice or Toronto), but as of today, I'd be very surprised if this didn't keep a solid foothold on my Top Ten of 2006.

[MAYDRICK]

Ah ! INNOCENCE de Lucile Hadzihalilovic !!! Je vois qu'il y a des connaisseurs par ici ! C'est un film absolument magnifique qui a été étrillé par la critique en France et qui est pourtant l'un des plus beaux films oniriques de ces dernières années.
A plus.

[A. Horbal]

This is getting damn near universal praise from the various peoples whose opinions I trust. Pan's Labyrinth is definitely the fall realease I anticipate the most...