The flip side to fantasy has always been horror, and no one knows this better than director Guillermo del Toro. The weird mastermind behind "Blade II" and the film adaptation of "Hellboy," del Toro (no relation to Benicio) has teamed up with two other Mexican film heavyweights-Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu ("Babel") and Alfonso Cuarón ("Y Tu Mamá También")-to produce "Pan's Labyrinth," an appropriately dark homage to the fairy tale genre and a film that was recently nominated for six Academy Awards.
"Pan's Labyrinth" is set in the outskirts of Madrid after the ascendance of Generalísimo Francisco Franco, an ally of Mussolini and Hitler during World War II, who now wages a brutal war against republican freedom fighters in the Spanish countryside. The heroine of "Pan's Labyrinth," Ofelia (Ivana Baquero), accompanies her mother to live at the garrison of Captain Vidal (Sergi López), a ruthless soldier whose only concerns are the annihilation of the resistance and Ofelia's pregnant mother only as the bearer of his son and future heir.
When a sprightly fairy appears to her in the night, Ofelia is guided to an empty well at the center of an ancient labyrinth. At the bottom of the well is Pan, an ancient faun, half human and half goat, whose body is made up of as much wood as flesh. Pan explains to Ofelia that she is in fact the reincarnation of a great princess who long ago escaped from the underworld and whose father, the king, longs for her to return to his side. In order to prove that she is in fact the princess of old, however, Ofelia must complete several magical tasks.
Though American audiences may initially assume that they are familiar with this plot device, del Toro's take on quest lore is completely unlike the typical Hollywood interpretation. The film's vision is often lovely, depicting the forest landscape in muted hues of green and blue, yet del Toro does not shy away from the more brutal aspects of Ofelia's plight or that of the freedom fighters. "Pan's Labyrinth" is startlingly violent and genuinely frightening at times; at one point, a nightmarish demon known as the Pale Man literally bites the head off of one of Ofelia's fairy companions.
Visually, "Pan's Labyrinth" lacks the polish we have come to expect of fantasy films-Peter Jackson's $94-million production of "The Lord of the Rings" is the archetype-but the film does not suffer for this; gritty, unapologetically harsh and even at times grotesque, the film explores the more somber aspects of fantasy, the likes of which have nothing to do with titanic battle scenes or special effects. The Grimms' fairy tales are full of violence and torment precisely because they were written as cautionary tales meant to frighten children into good behavior. Similarly, del Toro's portrayal of Ofelia's experience as both enchanting and disquieting is his way of making fantasy relevant to reality.
Though Ofelia ultimately triumphs in her quest, the evil she cannot so easily evade is that of Captain Vidal. As the film progresses and Ofelia's adventures develop alongside the more sobering conflict surrounding Franco's fascist regime, what becomes apparent is that Ofelia's encounters with fairies, fauns and monsters may be entirely imaginary-it is a fantasy, a coping mechanism. "Pan's Labyrinth" is not simply an escapist film but a film which is itself about escapism. The "real" world that del Toro presents to us is an ugly one: Ofelia's mother dies painfully in childbirth, a captured freedom fighter is brutally tortured and Ofelia's baby brother is held captive to the sadistic Vidal. When Ofelia enters the labyrinth, however, she is the heroine of her own story.