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Other reviews by Howard Schumann
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Pan's Labyrinth
Ofelia, a bright, imaginative girl of ten, carries with her books of fairy tales. Her father, a tailor, died a few years ago in the war, and her mother is pregnant with the baby the Captain believes will be his son. When they stop to rest, the little girl meets a buzzing dragonfly and believes it to be a fairy welcoming her to a magic realm. In a voice-over, we hear the story of an underground country where “there are no lies and no pain”, a metaphor perhaps for the thousands of Franco resisters who were forced to go underground. In this country, a young princess named Moanna is mourned after she leaves the realm to explore life on Earth and is blinded by the sun and dies. Her father, the King of the Underworld, however, has never given up hope that the princess will one day return in another incarnation.
The film shifts seamlessly between fantasy sequences and the armed conflict. Vidal is depicted as a soldier who takes pleasure in killing. In one scene, he sadistically beats a peasant to death with a bottle, suspecting him of being a rebel. His cruelty is not limited to rebels, however. When Carmen becomes sick during her difficult pregnancy, the girl hears her stepfather tell the doctor that if it comes to a choice between saving the mother or saving the baby, he wants him to save the baby. Amidst all the darkness, Ofelia develops a warm relationship with the housekeeper, Mercedes (Maribel Verdu), whom she later discovers sneaks out at night to bring messages, food, and medical supplies to the rebels. The Captain is merciless when he discovers Mercedes’ “treason” as well as that of Dr. Ferreiro (Alex Angulo) who refuses to obey Vidal’s orders. As the world around her grows darker and her mother becomes sicker, Ofelia further retreats into her dream world. Soon she must make the most difficult choice any person can be asked to make. Pan’s Labyrinth is a strong and heartfelt film but it is a mostly gloomy affair and I yearned for some light and warmth to pervade the darkness, but the film does not go there except for a few brief moments. Del Toro’s work, however, is not about metaphysics or spirituality. It is a personal film about memory and, as both Ofelia and Vidal remember their fathers, del Toro wants the world to remember the sadistic nature of the Franco regime, the courage of those who stood up to its brutality, and the innocence his country lost forever. ©2007 Howard Schumann |