An A-Maze-ing Ride

Awards season is upon us, and this is typically the time of year when stupid Singapore film distributors, after torturing us with month upon month of shitty releases, decide to dump their entire load of "worthy" films on the general public. This results in about 5 releases per week that are watchable, and much teeth-gnashing and marathon viewing on my part.

Last weekend, I literally had a list of 10 films that I was interested in. But after watching this one, I looked at the rest of the list and thought to myself, "Why bother? None of them can be better than this." Yes, El Laberinto del Fauno (Pan's Labyrinth) is that good. I'd go so far as to say that this might possibly be the best film of the year (although if that's true, I really have nothing to look forward to all year, and I'll be very sad).

When it comes to writing about it though, I'm at a loss for words. How do you describe something that grabs hold of you for two hours and brings you on a rollercoaster ride of emotions, finally ending with such perfect beauty that it brings tears to your eyes and makes you sit there for a minute more just coming down from the experience? Fortunately, I think enough reviews and blogs and whatnot have written enough about the plot that I don't need to rehash it again, so I'll just put down some thoughts (and adjectives, I suppose).

What writer/director Guillermo del Toro has done is what I suppose could be called a mash-up in the filmic sense. He's taken two genres that don't seem to fit together - war and fantasy - and mixed them up and they work beautifully, each enhancing the other, with scenes that play in opposition and harmony, creating a wondrous whole. (Did that make any sense at all?) He's a great storyteller, and never has that been more on display than here, the entire film drawing us in right from the start and building to a thrilling, moving climax.

Unlike some other directors/filmmakers we know (ahem), he has a message, but doesn't hit you across the head with it. It's woven so intricately and intrinsically into the film that you instinctively get it, but it's not spelled out in huge letters and emblazoned across the screen. As he describes it in an interview with The Onion, it's a parable, not a pamphlet.

"A parable discusses things that are relevant in the past, the future, and the present - regardless of the outcome in the present. A pamphlet, on the other hand, is completely concerned with affecting an outcome in the present, the most immediate present."

It's a dark movie, but ultimately ends on a note of such beauty, courage and hope that you can't help but be moved by it, and by the journey that has taken you there. It is the most perfect ending I have seen in a long time, and I was awed, humbled and overwhelmed by the entire experience.

It may just be the best film of the year.