Faerie Tales by Alex Jane Scala

The Girl Who Used to Dream by Meisje R.

...And the Door Will Open by Thia Odiorne

Evolution by Kenna Kettrick

Review: Pan's Labyrinth by Frances Nicole Rogers

Horizon by Taline Boghosian

I can't deny the quality of Pan's Labyrinth, the almost universally acclaimed new film by Guillermo del Toro. I also don't agree 100% with the film's believers. Pan's Labyrinth is a chilling, engrossing picture that showcases del Toro's vivid depictions of the real and imagined world. It is also a film in which these worlds are shallowly depicted, where too-simple conclusions are reached about life and politics, leaving an empty core at the center of such a vibrantly rendered world. In a film often described as an adult fairy tale, there's little complexity that adults can actually chew on.

Pan's Labyrinth takes place in 1944 after the Spanish Civil War. At the front of a continuing battle between Franco's fascist army and a small band of revolutionaries sits the cold, unwelcoming home of Vidal (Sergi Lopez), the villainous captain who holds no regard for the lives of anyone besides his unborn son. It is into this setting that young Ofelia (Ivana Baquero) enters with her pregnant and ill mother, Carmen (Ariadna Gil), Vidal's new wife.

Opposed to moving in with Vidal, Ofelia quickly retreats into a fantasy world where insects, stones, and abandoned labyrinths are artifacts of an unseen kingdom that longs for the return of its lost princess. Ofelia learns, upon entering the labyrinth, that she is the reincarnated princess, and that she must complete three tasks before being allowed to re-enter the kingdom. Ofelia dutifully does these tasks while Vidal's monstrosity and the misery of the women surrounding him plays out in violent, agonizing detail.

Vidal, however, is nothing more than a cartoon villain. A menacing one, but nevertheless one-dimensional, a spoon to help force-feed the film's argument against fascism. The audience is never allowed to come to its own conclusions about Vidal, nor is it allowed to draw its own conclusion about the motives of the revolutionaries. This black and white nature would not be a problem had the film focused solely on Ofelia's tale; yet, though Ofelia is the main character, the film focuses as much on the surrounding adults as it does on her. It would have been nice to give these supporting characters as much complexity as is given to Ofelia's imagination.

What makes the film more than an average period piece is, indeed, Ofelia's fantasy world, and the rich life del Toro breathes into it. The complexity sadly missing in the real world of Pan's Labyrinth exists in the fantasy, as del Toro refrains from showing the actual kingdom until the end of the film, leaving the audience to question whether Pan (Doug Jones), the faun who gives Ofelia the three tasks, is a benevolent or malicious representative. Doug Jones is also the man behind the makeup of the Pale Man, a silent, menacing character who easily has the most frightening scene in the whole film. Pan's Labyrinth also boasts a haunting score by Javier Navarrete, which centers on a wordless lullaby sung by Vidal's maid, Mercedes (Maribel Verdu).

Mercedes herself is a fascinating character, a mousy woman with incredible strength and cunning that plays out in a compelling and graphically violent scene between herself and Vidal. The only thing that mars this scene is a questionable move that has obvious intentions for the end of the film. Even Ofelia, during the Pale Man scene, makes a move that is both nonsensical and obvious in its aim. Though del Toro has created a vivid fantasy world with compelling creatures and visuals, it is his uneven script that hurts the otherwise intriguing Pan's Labyrinth.