Pan's Labyrinth: A Fairy Tale for Modern Times

What horrors await Ofelia at the end of this tunnel? (via. best-horror-movies.com)

Pan’s Labyrinth is the second film we’ve watched this quarter that could be easily classified as a “horror film” (although I would argue that there’s a case to be made for classifying Dr. Strangelove as such), and it is just as packed with symbolism in its technical aspects as Alien.

Editing: Movie Magic

The editing in Pan’s Labyrinth is almost as impressive to watch as the film taken as a whole. The truly magical part about it is that it is almost invisible. For example, “[i]n a single, extraordinary shot del Toro tilts down to inside the mother’s womb, where we see a golden fetus mutely listening, and pans right to the fantastic blossom atop a mountain of thorns. Suddenly the stick insect, clicking and clucking, intrudes into the fantasy landscape and we follow it back to the bedroom” where the shot began (Smith 6). This is a shot that includes almost all the thematic material for the movie, from maternal/sibling bonds to fairytales and violence, but the entire sequence takes place almost as one camera move. This “extraordinary fluidity of movement between fantasy and reality” is what makes Pan’s Labyrinth such a global experience (Smith 5). When you can show that much variety in one shot and you can understand what’s going on even without the subtitles, you’ve created something that can be equally experienced by everyone, i.e. a great film.

Another striking shot, editing-wise, is the opening shot of the film: “[a]s time runs backwards, a trickle of ruby-red blood retreats into the nostril of . . . Ofelia” (Smith 4). This is not a particularly difficult edit, I’m sure, since the film is just running backwards, but the image it creates is powerful. Preceding a movie filled with unimaginable violence and cruelty, it’s almost as though del Toro wants us to put Ofelia back together, put her blood back.

Mise-en-scène: Reinforcing rather than Reducing

Del Toro’s mise-en-scène is used “in such a way as to reinforce rather than reduce the horrors of history” (Smith 6). The mise-en-scène in Pan’s Labyrinth creates two separate worlds: on the one hand, it creates a believable fantasy realm that exists literally right under the nose of the real word, and on the other hand, it creates a very real, very specific location to ground the story and make the audience think, in the back of their minds, “I wonder if this could actually happen?”

Ofelia is granted a moment alone in the real world before the Book of Crossroads can give her instructions (via www.moviesonline.ca)

The feminine circle is clearly visible here in the shape of the Labyrinth and the curve of the Faun's horns. (via kingroom.com)

In this creation of del Toro’s Spain, many symbols become readily apparent. Ofelia’s world, the underworld/Labyrinth, is full of circular imagery that reappears anytime she looks to escape the “real” world. In the course of the film, the “fecund, earthy and maternal underland is juxtaposed with scenes in the ‘real’ world of fascist Spain in 1944, with their steely military colours and sharp cold lines and shapes” (Edwards 142). The Captain’s realm is a perversion of Ofelia’s in many ways, not least of which is his appropriation of the feminine circle shape of the Labyrinth that he has turned into a giant gear in his room, the watch in his pocket, and the cogs in the watch.

Captain Vidal discovers the power of all the suppressed females he has kept under his thumb. (via spitefulcritic.com)

One other incredibly strong recurring symbol in the film is the knife. Knives are inherently phallic weapons, symbols of masculine dominance, but in this film, the knives “become symbols of sacrifice and freedom and freedom rather than violence. While the male weapons of choice are guns and grenades and the Captain’s blunt instruments of torture, the knives are inherently female as tools of the kitchen and relics of the underland” (Edwards 144). This is one of the core points of the film, the inversion of the rules of the world: the real world is twisted into the Labyrinth, rebels defeat the established rulers, and women take power from their everyday tools and defeat the oppressive men.

Works Cited

Edwards, Kim. "Alice's Little Sister: Exploring Pan's Labyrinth." Screen Education. ATOM. 40. Web. 28 Feb. 2010.

Smith, Paul Julian. "Pan's Labyrinth (El laberinto del fauno)." Film Quarterly. 60.4 (2007): 4- 9. Web. 28 Feb. 2010.

The Elderly Asea: Old People Having a Good Time or Menace 2 Society?

The ocean is a dangerous place. Everybody knows that and most of us have experienced it firsthand. Jellyfish stings on feet; pieces of coral gouging holes in thighs; lightning striking the ocean where you're swimming and fusing your arms to the sides of your body and making you into a horrifying fish-person.

So why do we continue to allow the elderly to fish alone?

Look at this old man. He plans to catch a fish today, and he plans to eat it. He has been trying mightily, as evidenced by his wind-beaten hat, grizzled facial hair, and deeply wrinkled skin. This old man is a fool. (courtesy: theoldmansea.blogspot.com)

Every year, hundreds of old people die fishing for marlin by themselves. A marlin is the size of at least ten old people, and could eat at least nine of them before it began to get uncomfortably full and would have to sit down and take a nap.

"I say! This will make a fine meal! My family will eat splendidly this evening!" thought the Marlin. (courtesy: bluemarlin3.com)

We have to make old people see that they simply can't just be gallivanting into the ocean whenever they want, because they could break their hips, and they'll miss the Gunsmoke marathon on TVLand.

1. Old People Are Not Properly Trained to Fish

Old people have no training in the art of the catch. They shuffle about aimlessly, dropping their bobs in the water and falling asleep, dreaming of Franklin Delano Roosevelt and that son of a bitch Harry Truman. Behold, this footage (captured by a woman who was tragically devoured by squirrels) of an old person in his natural habitat, observing the fishers. He looks lost and not entirely continent, and cannot possibly be thinking that he should go fishing.

2. Old People Are Inherently Incapable of Using Boats

Just look at them. Even with younger, strapping folks holding both their arms and pushing them up from the inside of the boat, they still cannot master the art of getting in and out of watercraft. This is truly the tragedy of the elderly.

Without the proper training in the act of fishing or the vehicle of fishing, how can we trust old people alone on the water? I continue to place the blame squarely on the head of Ernest Hemingway for enticing generations of old people to sail out to fish in hopes of finding some sort of existential meaning in the endless wait for a fish.

What have you done, Papa? Don't act so satisfied with yourself. Just because they're old and probably can't drink strong whiskey doesn't mean they deserve to be eaten alive and then drowned. (courtesy: cocktailculture.wordpress.com)