The films of Guillermo del Toro are so memorable because he
combines storytelling acumen with the eye of a great visual artist. I still
vividly recall seeing Chronos in an
arthouse theater in Washington D.C. in 1993, and not merely because CBS News
reporter Bob Simon was there, looking for all the world like a European spy
making some sort of clandestine drop at the local cinema. Whether making
overtly commercial fare like Blade II
and Hellboy or more personal movies,
such as The Devil’s Backbone, del
Toro intermingles themes in fascinating ways.
Labyrinth is a sort of gothic fairy tale set against the postwar repression
of Franco’s
The winner of three Academy Awards, the film takes as its protagonist the
introverted Ofelia (Ivana Baquero), a quiet 10-year-old girl who moves to the
northern mountains with her pregnant mother Carmen (Ariadna Gil) after being
summoned by the latter’s new husband. Ofelia’s cruel stepfather, Captain Vidal
(Sergi López), is a humorless fascist officer under orders to rid the territory
of a small group of rebels that fight on unbroken in the Navarra region.
overgrown tangle of brush behind the nearby mill. In the heart of the labyrinth
she meets Pan (Doug Jones), an ancient satyr who claims to know Ofelia’s true
identity and secret destiny as the reincarnation of Princess Moanna, and tasks her
with completing three clandestine assignments before the arrival of the next
full moon. Instructing Ofelia that no one must know about her mission — not her
ailing mother or her new friend Mercedes (Maribel Verdú) — Pan lays out a very
specific series of rules, and warns her that if she does not follow them there
will be harsh consequences. So time is running out, both for Ofelia and for the
rebels who stand in opposition to Captain Vidal. Each will have to battle
hardship and brutality in order to gain their freedom. But who can be trusted
in such a time of lies and danger?
dreamy and at times unnerving, faintly recalling Alice in Wonderland and, in its own glancing way, The Lord of the Rings, all while still
retaining an inimitable style all its own — a style that might be called “fantastical
revisitation,” owing as it does to florid inner worlds of a creative adolescent
imagination. If the comparison to the latter film series seems far-fetched, it
has less to do with pure alignment of fantasy vision and more to do with the
fact that, as in that series, the conflicts seem at once intimate and grand.
Still, at its heart Pan’s Labyrinth
is an intimate and surrealistic fable, marked by historic underpinnings. There
is little majestic, surging questing; it’s a more intimate and idiosyncratic tale
of good and evil, bravery and sacrifice, love and loss — and to that end a film
that produces more variable reactions. Arthouse patrons with a healthy sense of
whimsy will most appreciate this film, “mere” foreign film aficionados likely
less so.
regular Amray case in turn housed in a sturdy cardboard slipcase. It is
presented with animated menu screens in 1.85:1 widescreen, preserving the
proper aspect ratio of its theatrical exhibition. And it’s a gorgeous transfer,
marked by consistent colors, deep blacks and no problems with edge enhancement
or grain. Audio unfolds in Spanish language Dolby digital 5.1-EX, stereo
surround 2.0, and 6.1 DTS-ES mixes, with separate English and Spanish
subtitles, as well as optional closed captioning. Del Toro provides a video
prologue introduction as well as an engaging feature-length audio commentary
track, and the guy approaches the DVD releases of his movies just as a diehard
fan would, as any owner or renter of Hellboy,
in either of its tricked-out iterations, can attest.
15-minute look at the mythology and origin of the movie’s more fantastical characters.
Conceptual sketches and preproduction sculptures feed into a superlative,
30-minute look at the film’s visual effects, which points up the breathtaking value
of simple imagination over wads of cash and CGI. Del Toro’s use of colors and
textures are also examined, as is composer Javier Navarrete’s work on the
film’s music. Another big extra is a 50-minute chat from PBS’ The Charlie Rose Show, presented in
full-screen, featuring an interview with del Toro and friends and fellow filmmakers Alfonso
Cuarón (Children of Men)
and Alejandro González Iñárritu (Babel).
An interactive production scrapbook gives viewers a look at
the film’s design work, and del Toro also shares his own notes and sketches,
some dating back many years. Four, minute-long “DVD Comics,” meanwhile, offer
up comic book artists’ interpretations of Pan, the Giant Toad, the Pale Man and
the Fairies. A visual effects plate comparison and collection of trailers and
TV spots round out the bonus slate, along with DVD-ROM, dual-language versions
of the screenplay, synchronized storyboards and photo galleries. B (Movie) A+ (Disc)