Pan's Labyrinth

Pan's Labyrinth. I've literally been waiting for this movie ever since I saw its review on Ebert & Roeper. And after driving through the parking lot of our neighborhood theater for two weeks now, checking to see if it's playing (I know, I could look in a paper every once in awhile... in my defense, it's on the way) I'm finally vindicated: it opens in wide release today. I've already got my approach to the popcorn stand and the seating chart mapped out. It's me and Pan: 1:25 pm. (Tef is at work and already vetoed this movie just on general principle -- he's not a fairy tale kinda' guy. I don't mind. A good movie uninterrupted in the middle of the day? HEAVEN.)

Let me explain my fascination with fairy tales. I'm the daughter of an English teacher and have an honor's English degree. But more than that, I have a very CS Lewis (or "Lewisian"?) love of the genre. If you've read "Surprised By Joy" you're familiar with Lewis's defense of the fairy tale and I cannot, in any way, surpass his explanation. Suffice it to say that the fairy tale takes the physical and emotional realities of the themes and quests of our lives and intertwines them; creating a world where the seen and unseen, felt and known, realized and unrealized, literal and figurative, spiritual and material worlds collide. It's a sensual feast that is the full actualization of what is actually occurring. And since the themes are fairly universal, everyone can tap in to the stories and interact with them.

More often than not, the truly resonant tales are the ones in which there is really something at stake -- not a "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" sort of proposition, but an original Grimm's telling, where the quest imperils the hero's very life and punishment of enemies involves being danced to death or boiled in oil. Let's face it: the cold realities of life can be just as hard to face as all that. The old tales make no bones about what is at stake, they don't try to pretty up the quest. Which is why stories by the brothers Grimm (and more recently, some of the Russian folktales illustrated by Gennady Spirin) are so indelible and effective. And why I almost admire Guillermo Del Toro for making this so "real" that it earned an "R" rating. (Almost. I haven't seen the film yet, so I can't comment on gratuitous violence or the like.)

Needless to say, I'll report back.

UPDATE (no spoilers):
Eh. It was okay, I guess. It wasn't worth the comparisons to the Tolkien/Jackson, LoTR Trilogy (which has left its mark on so many other films recently, including "The Fountain", "Aragon", the upcoming "300" and many, many others). But PL had some definite redeeming qualities. My basic complaint was that it was a bit too long and convoluted in some parts and a little too... "inaccessible" as far as the set design.

First off, in a fairy tale, the backstory and rising action must be built for a believable amount of time before the plunge into the fantasy world (or parallel universe) that the tale encompasses. The fantasy action in PL, started almost right away, with the plunge happening very early and almost matter-of-factly. Were the movie shorter, I could accept this hastening of action as a convention meant to move the story within the given time. As it was, the step into fantasy was off-kilter with much of the rest of the action and created an asymmetrical or wobbly effect for the rest of the narrative.

In order for the fantasy world to have the desired effect, the reader (or in this case, viewer) must be well-acquainted with the basics of the "real" story before we are taken to the fantasy world. Since there wasn't much acquaintace to be had, PL leaves one with the impression that this sort of thing happens to Ofelia all the time. And she hardly looks surprised (or terrified, confused, scared, etc.) most of the time. The result is that one feels less payoff than they could otherwise have felt if the transfer from "reality" to fantasy had been handled more deftly. Though with PL's ambiguous emphasis on which is which, one could argue against this.

A great portion of the inaccessible nature of PL is due to the set design. The thing that made the house in Hitchcock's Psycho so unnerving and "real" was that it looked like an actual house that someone might own. Stylized and creepy, yes, but real nonetheless. The house (or base camp) in PL looks like no other house in history (except outside Metallica's "Unforgiven" video): with obvious round windows, weathering on every surface imaginable, dressing mirrors suspended in the middles of vast rooms, odd corners and eaves -- in short, too much set dressing. One is reminded at every turn that one is watching a movie and not participating in an actual story.

I'm sure there are proponents screaming at me,"YES! It's a FAIRY TALE! It's supposed to look STYLIZED and DREAM-LIKE!" And to that I will concede -- most of this is in the eye of the beholder. What I like might not be the next Joe's cuppa'... but my blog, my opinion, you know? The fantasy-world was well handled for the most part. But for the exchange to be a successful one, the "real" world needed to look more "real" in order to make the fantasy world more effective.

Things I loved? The frog (though he could have been a bit more menacing), the action between Ofelia and Mercedes (heartrending), the mandrake "baby", Ofelia's interaction with her little brother (made me teary) and the coup de grace -- the "eyeball monster": PITCH PERFECT. But most of the quests seemed, again, off balance and easily dealt. I just didn't feel the tension I'd anticipated.

The antagonist Capitan (very nicely juxtaposed with the "eyeball monster") was the quintessential "baddy". Nothing new. The mother was pat in every way: an agreeing, self-sacrificing, beautiful martyr. Mercedes was defiant, tricky and in the end victorious. And Ofelia did exactly what we expected Ofelia to do. There were just very few surprises in this film and that's what I was looking for -- something to make me look at the genre anew. A twist or complexity that hadn't been explored before. And desire it as I might... it just wasn't there.

That said, the ending was beautifully done, though because I felt so little empathy with the main character, it was hardly the payoff it could have been had Ofelia undergone the true hero's quest and changed in a dramatic and surprising way. It was sweet and touching. But had Ofelia started out as a skeptical brat and made the transformation to good and true believer, the story would have been much more effective.

Final Grade: B+