Review: "Pan's Labyrinth"

Fairy tales evoke a pure sense of wonder that few other mediums can. I've found them to be immensely interesting: the creatures, setting, and overall imagination show few bounds, but systems of morality and restrictions run through them, usually to teach the protagonist a lesson or prove some allegorical point. Pan's Labyrinth manages to keep a steady sense of the marvels of childhood, while also maintaining a constant horror that comes both through its fantastical elements and its post-Spanish Civil War setting. As the stories merge together, the cohesion of reality with fantasy create a beautiful story that doesn't shy away from the terrors of war, in actual and fantastical terms. Ofelia, a young girl obsessed with cuentos de hada (I watched without subtitles) and her mother retreat to a forest camp to live with Ofelia's stepfather. El Capitán is a harsh and brutal man. He represents the Franco regime as they smoke out the rebels in the surrounding woods. Ofelia's mother struggles with a difficult pregnancy. In the midst of transition, Ofelia searches for solace in stories, and is quickly discovered by a faun, who tells her that she is the princess of a long-lost kingdom, and that she must pass three trials to claim her throne. It's a well-run trope, but the scary imagery and sense of intimate wonder allow for these trials to be among the most captivating moments of the film. As the violence of the fairy tale parallels that of the war, the film hits heavily emotional veins as families are separated and the horror of authoritarian idealism brutalizes anything that deviates. The reality of Ofelia's experiences is presented in a way that allows for multiple interpretations, and the different personalities of the adults are refined as they interact more and more with Ofelia's world.

Guillermo Del Toro gives terrifying imagination to a fantasy world that's lost all innocence. The faun that acts as a gateway for Ofelia is at turns avuncular and menacing. In the film's most chilling sequence, The Pale Man sits, eyes on a plate, waiting. The paintings of him eating children that adorn the walls, the meticulous banquet, the panicked fairies-- it's easily one of the most tense scenes I've seen in a film. The movie meanders for its first hour, allowing the pieces to fall into place. It relies on the personalities of the characters to drive the story, and it excels. The relationship between Ofelia and her mother is tender and tense, and the addition of Captain Vidal to the family dynamic allows for the horrors of the unbending idealist to be manifest in a quieter way.

The relationship between Mercedes and her rebel brother adds to the immersion of the film. The Spanish Civil War was ideology vs. ideology. As an American with some knowledge of my country's own civil war, the separation of so many families due to differences in political beliefs, the tearing apart of so many towns and cities, makes ours look calm, as only a geographical line divided the carnage there. The nebulous nature of security in the Nationalist camp adds to the need for escape. The rebels, although painted as the good guys retrospectively, are shown to be just as cruelly efficient as the army. Ofelia's world of escape grows more and more dark as the fighting and subterfuge progresses, and her loss of innocence is heartbreaking. Pan's Labyrinth finds the beauty in death, the horror in escape, the love in war. Its allegory and imagination culminate in a chilling movie that connects us to a childhood lost in war.

Final Grade: A