***In going through some of my college papers I found two sets of programme notes that I wanted to publish here before they get lost in the recesses of my old college papers. I've written about these films before, but this is a more formal approach.***
In describing the art film as a distinct filmic mode David Bordwell writes, “With the open and arbitrary ending, the art film reasserts that ambiguity is the dominant principle of intelligibility, that we are to watch less for the tale than the telling, that life lacks the neatness of art and this art knows it.” By opening the film with the promise of its ambiguous ending director Guillermo Del Toro firmly establishes El Laberinto del Fauno, or Pan’s Labyrinth, as this type of film.
Pan’s Labyrinth is essentially a fairy tale set in the turmoil of Franco’s Spain as experienced by a young girl named Ofelia. Though an understanding of the historical context certainly enhances the film, the characters of the film are just that—characters: the evil dictator, the good doctor, the innocent child. Del Toro’s use of stock characters to tell a unique story emphasizes style over circumstance in this film. Del Toro’s authorial influence emerges profoundly in the midst of what could have easily become a predictable, overdone plotline. The stereotypes must bend to fit the world this film creates. Del Toro creates entire myths for this film—among them the driving story of a curious princess trying to return to her home and immortality—and even goes so far as to drown out traditional fairy tale images with his own. He redefines creatures such as fairies and fauns to the point that they become almost unrecognizable, but Del Toro’s overall vision relentlessly shines through in all of the fairy tale creatures of Pan’s Labyrinth.
The narrative firmly moves the film forward, which contradicts Bordwell’s definition of the art film, but within the fantasy genre, even though the characters follow the rules of their apparent psychological motivations the world follows no such rules. Reality and fantasy merge for Ofelia. Neither world offers sensitivity or security for the young girl, but demand that she make difficult and crucial decisions. The two worlds also intermingle visually as the camera pans horizontally from one situation to another with no clear break or as Ofelia literally moves seamlessly from the Pale Man’s hall to her own bedroom. Ofelia’s surroundings, in either setting, are populated by rich greens, warm browns, and circles in contrast to the harsh lines and cool grays of the adult world. The fantasy world almost becomes more real than the strict, unyielding reality portrayed in the film, but it only exists to Ofelia.
The intertwining of adult reality and the faun’s fantasy world without a clearly defined set of rules dissolves the standard narrative progression of the film. The events do move forward with a cause-effect linkage, but the rules governing these interactions remain unclear. The audience knows that the book the faun gives to Ofelia will tell her what tasks she must complete but not why it also predicts her mother’s complications in pregnancy. The two worlds are one in the same, but it remains unclear whether rules of reality or fantasy should reign, thus creating much of the ambiguity of the film.
Though Pan’s Labyrinth does not express the realism Bordwell attributes to art film, it does use ambiguity to bridge the gap between its own sort of realism and Del Toro’s authorial voice. No clear explanation exists to clarify Ofelia’s fantastic experiences—to determine which set of experiences is more real. Indeed, the two worlds can only exist together. The film shows not the simplicity of a child’s perspective, but rather the beauty imagination creates, which even oppression cannot stifle.
Pan’s Labyrinth certainly integrates qualities of the Hollywood film with the art film, but Del Toro’s use of visual style, camera work, and fantasy to create a clear story still underlined by ambiguity reflects a strong influence of art cinema. The “real” world of the film moves through a typical narrative progression with building action, a climax, and conclusion, but the independently progressing narrative of Ofelia’s fanciful quest undermines any strict authority of the basic narrative, which actually adds a level of complexity that audiences typically associate with reality rather than cut-and-dry cinema. The film communicates its main effect not through its story, but rather through its style. The interaction of the two worlds in the film ensures that how the film unfolds takes precedence over where it ends.
