Pan's Labyrinth

Postwar Spain, 1944: Pan (Doug Jones) is a jagged, steeply angular fairyland faun who encounters a soft, luminous little Spanish girl called Ofelia (Ivana Baquero), and turns her world into a labyrinth of confusion, comfort, longing, and agonizing life-and-death choices.

Ofelia's existence is hard enough as it is, before she meets the enigmatic Pan — her loving but desperate widowed mother, Carmen (Ariadna Gil), has resorted to marrying a fanatical, tyrannical military captain, Vidal (Sergei López), a man who unquestioningly serves his military superiors and resides in a stark, secluded spot in the Spanish countryside where rebel soldiers hide and fight in the fringes of forest. The genteel Ofelia and Carmen are new to this brutal and barren way of life, but Vidal, the father of the baby boy growing big in Carmen's belly, insists that the child is born under his watchful eye.

Carmen accepts her meager lot, even as she becomes ill and bedridden, while Ofelia refuses, taking refuge in the magical lair of her dazzling and dangerous imagination. Just knowing that she is destined for epic greatness, she wills the pages of her beloved books to spring to life, leading her — a secret Princess, no less — to a special quest that will reunite her with her true family in a magical realm.

Pan's Labyrinth switchbacks through a maze of stark reality and lush fantasy; not quite as seamlessly or with the same astringent melancholy as 2001's The Devil's Backbone (which remains my favorite Guillermo del Toro film), but it does so with great assurance, maturity, and intelligence.

The story is simple, yet magnificent. It is not difficult to imagine that Pan's Labyrinth was adapted from a classic literary work, but every word and action is from del Toro's enviable imagination and intellect. Furthermore, the cinematography, music, costumes, sets, makeup, and special effects are all impeccable.

The casting of the film is beyond reproach. There are several characters, and each one of them, from the protagonist to the bit player, is imbued with full-bodied realism. Jones, as the title character and another creature called The Pale Man, is a marvel. (I believe he is the only Westerner in the cast, but he speaks his lines phonetically; he and del Toro are longtime collaborators, and it shows in these characters.)

López, as the human ogre of this fairytale, saves a character with no shades of gray from becoming unintentionally humorous. Maribel Verdú, as Mercedes, Vidal's housekeeper and a woman of compassion and secrets, gives courage a new name. Álex Angulo, as Dr. Ferreiro, is strong and true. Gil, as Ofelia's mother, puts in a performance of subtle heartbreak. And, finally, young Baquero is a real treasure, giving us a cinematic heroine for the ages.

I did have a couple of problems with the movie — Vidal is perhaps too overtly evil to be believed, and Ofelia does a couple of inexplicably foolish things — but they're minor quibbles about what is otherwise far and away one of the best movies of the year, and they do hold true to fairytale mores.

Using fantasy and horror to explore the darkness of human nature, del Toro gives us a bravura film that is a cautionary gothic fable in every way. Pan's Labyrinth is a dazzle of deep forests, hidden passageways, creepy creatures, a wicked stepparent, cruelty, undying love, dark promises, deadly danger, and grotesqueries galore.

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