WARNING: MILD SPOILERS AHEAD!

Our first introduction is to young Princess Moanna, who flees her underworld kingdom for a life above ground. Her memory is erased by the sunlight, so the Princess' life is carried out with no knowledge of her true identity; after her death, it's hinted that Moanna will return to her kingdom in another life. Immediately following this prologue, we're taken to the central atmosphere of Pan's Labyrinth: Spain circa 1944, after the last gasps of a civil war. We're now introduced to Ofelia, a young girl with a penchant for fairy tales. After the death of her father, Ofelia and her pregnant mother travel to the home of Captain Vidal, their new stepfather and husband.

Along the way, Ofelia encounters an insect-like creature that follows them to their new home. The creature appears to only make itself known to the young girl, who believes she's encountered a fairy straight from her storybooks. He leads her to a labyrinth in the immediate vicinity of the Captain's land, where she encounters a faun who believes that young Ofelia is the reincarnation of Princess Moanna. She's given three quests to prove herself, each one involving fantastic (and, in some cases, horrifying) creatures or difficult moral challenges. She often escapes to this dream-like world, always willingly.

The film's balance, of course, is maintained by the striking real-world backdrop of civil war and the violence in its wake. Captain Vidal is a fascist who hoards food and medical supplies to flush out local Republican rebels, lording over the landscape as the film's most easily-identified villain. His penchant for cold-blooded judgment and torture are sharply revealed in several stages, from the brutal killing of innocent farmers to the physical demolition of an imprisoned rebel. Vidal is the true monster of Pan's Labyrinth, mirroring The Big Bad Wolf and a plethora of beasts from classic fairy tales. He rules over the house with an iron fist, carefully watching the moves of Ofelia, her mother and the hired help. It's no surprise, then, that the young girl often feels more comfortable in a world of fantasy.

END OF SPOILERS

These two worlds are blended seamlessly, both in a technical sense and a spiritual one. Del Toro frequently employs careful vertical wipes---made to resemble the turning of pages, according to the director's commentary---to coax us into making subtle connections between Vidal's homestead and the mystical labyrinth. His deliberate use of color is another telling giveaway, contrasting the increasingly cold reality of Ofelia's life with the surreal warmth of her fantasy world. The film's solid production design also anchors Pan's Labyrinth nicely, from detailed and carefully-framed sets to amazing costume design and practical effects. It's literally a feast for the eyes...but as mentioned before, it's got plenty of substance to back up the style.

That's all the small talk you'll really need, as Pan's Labyrinth is truly a film that speaks for itself. Those who've already seen Del Toro's earlier companion piece, The Devil's Backbone, will notice a more polished and refined approach taken by the Mexican director, while those new to his work are in for a pleasant surprise. It's been a while since a film really grabbed me the way Pan's Labyrinth did the first time through, and it doesn't look as if repeated viewings will weaken its effect. In all respects, those who appreciate detailed, well-rendered fantasy films will find plenty to enjoy.

Final Thoughts
Lush and immersive, Pan's Labyrinth is truly a film to get lost in. Skillfully blending equal parts fantasy and horror, the cold and warm corners of our young protagonist's world are well-rendered and striking. It's almost disarming in its simplicity, yet subtle layers lurk underneath for those who enjoy digging. In all respects, this is a truly amazing work of art and worthy of its multiple Oscar wins and nominations...

Though he hasn't necessarily made Pan's Labyrinth for children, writer/director Guillermo del Toro (Hellboy) definitely seems to have gone back to find that ancient well of inspiration. His original story is as dark and twisted, and thus just as magical, as the classic tales. He has made a scary and wondrous fantasy film seen through the eyes of a child, and it should by turns enchant and frighten any adult who sees it.

Pan's Labyrinth has more in common with del Toro's smaller budget ghost story The Devil's Backbone than it does his big effects Hollywood films. Shot entirely in Spanish, it takes place at a rural outpost at the tail end of the Spanish Civil War. Franco is in power, and his troops are stamping down the last of the resistance. Ofelia (Ivana Baquero) lost her father in the war, and her mother, Carmen (Ariadna Gil, Belle Epoque), has remarried a sadistic solider, Captain Vidal (Sergi López, Dirty Pretty Things). Carmen is pregnant with Vidal's child, and they are going to his isolated base camp so she can give birth near him. There, Vidal is tangling with a band of guerillas that is hiding in the mountains, and he's ruling the nearby village with an iron fist.

For Ofelia, a girl who loves old books with fantastic stories, her new home is a blessing and a curse. She is not fond of the man her mother wants her to call "father," but she is immediately intrigued by the old stone labyrinth in the forest behind Vidal's fort. Though the dutiful maid Mercedes (Maribel Verdú, Y tu mamá también) warns her not to go inside, Ofelia is lured their by a small fairy. There, she meets the faun Pan (Doug Jones, the body of Hellboy's fish man, Abe Sapien). He tells her that she is a long lost princess who has finally come to return to her kingdom. All she has to do is complete three magical tasks. He gives her a magic book whose blank pages will reveal her missions to her when she is alone.

Her tasks aren't simple, and they have real consequences when not done right--both in the magical realm and the real world. Naturally, when Ofelia sneaks off to battle a magic toad, she is going to get in trouble for disappearing, especially when she returns covered in mud and toad spit. The pregnancy is making Carmen sick, and so insubordination isn't going to be tolerated. Vidal is not a reasonable man, and he doesn't like when things get beyond his control. His outbursts when fighting the resistance get more and more violent, and he cares less about Carmen's health than he does the birth of his son. If she dies, that's just collateral damage, and woe to Ofelia if that happens.

del Toro gives his audience two different worlds in Pan's Labyrinth. First is the brutal backdrop of the Civil War. He doesn't shy away from the killing that keeps the wheels of battle turning, and there are many gruesome scenes that will make even the most iron-stomached gore junkies cringe. The second world is Ofelia's fantasy kingdom. The adults never see what the young girl is going through, and part of the experience of Pan's Labyrinth is questioning whether Ofelia is really witnessing magic or if these scenarios are just the escape hatch she goes through to get away from her cruel stepfather. Either way, her fantasies bite back. Pan almost plays as a doppelganger for Vidal when he loses his temper over the girl's mistakes. Survival on either side of the reality line also requires sacrifice, and Ofelia is going to learn some real lessons about what that means.

Regardless of which explanation you choose to believe, the spell of Pan's Labyrinth is irresistible. Guillermo del Toro has written a multi-layered tale that will scare you, delight you, and keep you precariously poised on the edge of your seat. You'll cringe, but you won't want to look away lest you miss a frame of his gorgeously crafted alternate dimension. For the two hours that Pan's Labyrinth runs, the director reminds adults of what it's like to believe so thoroughly in your own imagination that anything is possible, while also reminding us that real heroism is fraught with human error and bought at a real price. Like the titular labyrinth, any adventure has a lot of twists and turns on its way to fulfillment. Sometimes the turns may be wrong and in others they are triumphantly right, but there's always something worth discovering just around the corner.

"Labyrinth" is an immense post Spanish Civil War political allegory; a semi-sequel to del Toro's vivid but stalled "Devil's Backbone." It broadens del Toro's obsession with the horrors of the mind, presented here in the form of a 12 year-old girl named Ofelia (Ivana Baquero), caught between the love for her pregnant mother and the chilling violence of her new step-father, Fascist Captain Vidal (Sergi Lopez), who is merciless in his hunt for rebels. To escape her pain, Ofelia runs to a nearby garden, protected by a Faun (Doug Jones), who offers the young girl three quests to help balance the forces inside the labyrinth he guards.

"Labyrinth" is a fairy tale for adults, one that runs red with splattery violence and blunt suffering. The director has made it his duty throughout his career to seek out any story that demands exquisite attention to violent detail, and "Labyrinth" could very well be considered his magnum opus; his first motion picture that gives itself completely over to fantastic heights of life and death, burying the viewer in the minutiae of traumatic escapism and purposed imagining. Even after fixated gore romps with "Hellboy" and "Blade II," del Toro manages to top himself by pushing his snappy sense of humor aside, leading the story into a dark, foreboding place no one could have predicted.

Visually, this is del Toro at his most fearless, effortlessly shaping a lurid realm of magic for Ofelia, and a stark, cold-blooded fear factory for the Captain. The labyrinth sequences are like Jim Henson and Lewis Carroll's love child on a truckload of acid; del Toro spares no drop of his imagination conjuring up mazes and monsters for Ofelia to meet and fear. The most striking is a devilish protector of a treasure with eyeballs on his hands and a frightening hunger for the soft flesh of babies. The beast is a fuel that will power nightmares for decades to come.

Vidal's obsession with destroying the rebellion is just as horrific, but in real world, bullet-in-the-brain ways. Again, del Toro stages the violence unapologetically, making certain the audience comprehends the Captain is a monster, but whether of duty or internal rot is a question left to the viewer. Lopez burns through his moments like a foaming dog, relishing his opportunities to inflict pain, yet demanding his right to bring a new life into the world. The actor manages the unthinkable: in a cinematic offering complete with fairies, monsters, and potent vaginal symbolism, Lopez, working only with his flesh and blood, manages to steal the film away from a kaleidoscope of visual fantasia.

Where my mind and heart differ on the film is how it all ties together. I understand that del Toro is leaning toward a more interpretative experience by blurring the edges of Ofelia's sanity and thickening the Fascism commentary, I only question why the two stories aren't allowed a distinct meeting point; a place of respectful simplicity that binds the stories in an indisputable way to help better intend the goals of the picture. I could admire the look of the film until the cows come home, but never was I moved by the Ofelia's sacrifices or Vidal's punishment. The two never crash into each other, and the jolt back and forth between the parallel plots seems to do more harm than good to the pace and near-apocalyptic intention of the film.

The final sequences of the picture suggest a euphoria and release for the characters, but I wasn't there in that emotional pitch with "Pan's Labyrinth" in the way I could've been. It's a very sizable dent on a motion picture cursed with an aim that feels too askew, too rusted from use to land the perfect shot.