"Pan's Labyrinth," Guillermo del Toro new film, boldly mixes fairy tales with unmitigated violence. The film melds torture, fairies, domestic abuse and magical kingdoms into a convincing narrative that pries open the imagination. Del Toro intertwines otherworldly wonder and real-world violence, proving that the two are more similar than one might think. Both deeply touching and deeply disturbing, the gritty but spectacular visuals and over-the-top plotline of "Labyrinth" produce the best demonstration of traditional "magical realism" that has recently graced the silver screen.
Ivana Baquero plays Ofelia, a young girl who travels with her pregnant mother Carmen (Ariadna Gil) to a military outpost in rural Spain during the 1940s, where her mother's new husband, Captain Vidal, is stationed in the army. Sergi Lopez plays this sadistic officer of Franco's regime, who is charged with rooting out a nearby guerrilla force that refuses to accept defeat. During the journey to meet her new father, however, Ofelia discovers a fairy who leads her into a labyrinth hidden in the forest. There she meets Pan (Doug Jones), a mythical faun with the legs of a goat and organic features akin to something out of "The Lord of the Rings." He reveals that she is the reincarnated soul of a princess from a fantastic subterranean kingdom, but adds that she must undertake several magical challenges in order to prove her worth and regain the crown.
As complications arise with Carmen's pregnancy and guerilla violence intensifies, Ofelia must balance her love for her mother with her desire to escape into fantasy.
Ofelia initially appears to be the stereotypical fantasy protagonist: a young, quiet, wide-eyed bookworm with a penchant for exploring and getting into trouble. Twenty minutes into the film, it seems that Del Toro is essentially remaking "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," except in Spanish and with a labyrinth instead of a closet. Then the violence and innovation hits. As fighting erupts and her sadistic father becomes more and more unhinged, Ofelia is thrust into a world of terror. Baquero shines in the role of Ofelia, gracefully balancing innocence, ambition, fear and compassion to create a character who makes us want to believe in fantasy, but who is still deeply affected by the violence around her.
Del Toro uses his strange but clever plot to contrast fantasy and reality. He enlists the unique talents of Baquero and Lopez to develop extreme characters -- the former an innocent and curious young girl, the latter a vicious captain bent on killing -- to contrast violence with innocence. He presents strong relationships, like Ofelia's concern for her mother and Captain Vidal's brutality toward his enemies, to compare hate and love. This combination of antithetical elements makes the film unnerving but stimulating.
One aspect that "Labyrinth" explores too much, however, is violence. It is harsh, ubiquitous and sometimes disproportionately prominent. Even veterans of violent movies will be hard-pressed to resist the urge to look away at certain moments. It's clear that Del Toro was trying to create contrast between childhood innocence and senseless bloodshed, but he could have done so with fewer torture scenes. A moderate amount of violence would have been innovative and unique; the bloodbaths that pervaded some scenes were unnecessary and distracting.
But one quickly forgets about such brutality whenever Pan makes an appearance. Doug Jones portrays this not-quite-lovable, not-quite-frightening creature perfectly, using eccentric but fluid body movements. Jones did not actually voice the character, but his skill in somatic acting alone captivates. The voiceover by Pablo Adan features erratic, scratchy but beautiful Spanish that sounds like one of Tolkien's Ents who has been smoking since childhood. Combine these with imaginative costume design, and Pan easily becomes the most memorable character of the film, despite very limited screen time.
The cinematography of "Labyrinth" is a subtle but powerful force. Del Toro employs sweeping visuals to add a sense of adventure and grandeur without becoming distracting. In one short but memorable scene, Ofelia is being guided by a fairy as she walks through the stone labyrinth. The camera pans away from a close-up, moves far above her, angles downward and slowly coasts around a corner as Ofelia makes the turn. Meanwhile, the fairy leaves her side and rises up to hover just in front of the camera before descending again to guide her. This ten-second shot conveys the vastness and grandeur of the labyrinth, Ofelia's isolation and the fairy's hyperactive buzzing, all while keeping the camera squarely focused on the protagonist. And yet the shot is so subtle that we hardly notice it at the time. Del Toro uses this sort of low-profile but potent cinematography to great effect throughout the film.
Overall, "Pan's Labyrinth" is a mind-bending experience. It forces audiences to deal with the emotional impact of extreme brutality while allowing them to enjoy the fantastic freedom of a fairy tale simultaneously. It brings the viewer up and down on a journey that is not entirely comfortable and not always pleasant. Despite this, Del Toro's tale is one of the most thought-provoking films yet this year.
