Pan's Labyrinth publicity poster and film still (© Guillermo del
Toro/Telecinco Cinema/Estudios Picasso/Tequila Gang/Esperanto Filmoj/Sententia
Entertainment/Warner Bros)
On 30 May
2017, I watched the Spanish fantasy/war movie Pan's
Labyrinth (with English subtitles), directed by the highly-acclaimed Mexican
film-maker Guillermo del Toro, and I can honestly say that it has been some
time indeed since I have been so emotionally involved in a film. However, this
one incorporated so effectively and so evocatively such a diversity of
universal themes that it would have been impossible for me not to have been.
[Indeed, it was after
watching this mesmerising movie that I instantly became a del Toro devotee and I
have since purposefully sought out, viewed, and thoroughly enjoyed a number of
other films directed and/or produced by him. These include The Shape of Water, which I have already reviewed here
on Shuker In MovieLand, and others that I'll be reviewing in later SIML blog
posts – so look out for those too.]
Originally released in
2006, Pan's Labyrinth deftly
intertwines the grim reality of bloody aggression in 1944 Spain between
Franco-supporting Falangist nationalists and a forest-protected outpost of
Maquis republican guerilla rebels with a living fairytale featuring a young
girl named Ofelia (played with gamine charm by Ivana Baquero).
Living through
this time of great civil unrest with her loving mother Carmen (Ariadna Gil) but
cruel Falange officer stepfather Captain Vidal (Sergi López), one fateful day
Ofelia finds herself led by a stick insect-impersonating fairy into a forest-hidden
labyrinth. Once inside, she discovers that it conceals a huge Pan-like faun (Doug
Jones, who would go on to play the gill man in del Toro's multi-Academy
Award-winning The Shape of Water a
decade later). It tells her that she is really a princess, and gives her three
tasks to complete, promising her immortality and her permanent return to her
rightful kingdom if she succeeds in completing all of these tasks.
This part-mystical
part-parable movie contains strange magic and dark fantasy, including not only
the faun and shape-shifting fairies that reminded me of Ray Harryhausen's
winged homunculus in The Golden Voyage of
Sinbad, but also a gigantic subterranean toad, a screaming writhing
mandrake root, and a hideous child-devouring humanoid monster known as the Pale
Man (again played by Doug Jones), whose eyes are not set in his face but instead
are inset within the palms of his claw-fingered hands. Nor is that all.
Effortlessly transcending
barriers of any kind, Pan's Labyrinth
also both mercifully and mercilessly showcases beauty and barbarism; the misery
and futility of warfare; self-sacrifice for the greater good of others; plus
haunting music; and profound sadness – so much profound, pervasive sadness. As
you'd expect, the traumatic scene in which Ofelia's mother dies is one that I
could scarcely even look up at, let alone watch.
But just like the original
one in Greek mythology, this cinematic Pandora's Box also contains hope,
sometimes faint but always flickering, and with that the viewer is ultimately
sustained. Pan's Labyrinth is a
spellbinding masterpiece of a movie, and one whose images and emotions will
remain with me, I'm sure, for a long time to come. Check out this trailer for
it here,
and you'll see what I mean.
And to view a complete listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE!
Publicity
poster from Pan's Labyrinth featuring
the grotesque and thoroughly terrifying cannibalistic Pale Man (© Guillermo del
Toro/Telecinco Cinema/Estudios Picasso/Tequila Gang/Esperanto Filmoj/Sententia
Entertainment/Warner Bros)
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