"Hace un mucho, mucho tiempo..."

A long, long time ago.

Thus begins the story of "Pan's Labyrinth", as most fairytales do. Only this one is closer to the grim original versions than those which we read as children.

I watched it yesterday night with my baby, and I thought it lovely. I've read reviews which were of the opinion that Guillermo del Toro's latest contribution to film seemed like two parallel narratives each fighting for their own screentime, but if you ask me, everything tied in nicely.

Parallels? Well, perhaps there were parallels in the two intertwining stories.

To me, "Pan's Labyrinth" is a story of two broken worlds; a Spain which suffers under the Fascist regime, and the underground realm which Pan-- the faun-- speaks of, searching, searching for its princess all this while, for so long that even Pan himself has nearly lost hope.

It's a story of hope, of how one world finds hope in finding that which it has sought for so long, and of how the other struggles to create its own hope; fighting to force a light out of the darkness of gunfire, explosions and death.

It's a story of courage and fear in the face of so much death; of the rebels who oppose Vidal and fight for a tomorrow which they know they may not see, and of Ofelia's daring and her innocent, unwavering sense of justice-- and it reminds us that sometimes children deserve more credit than we give them. The children of Lorenzo Carcaterra's "Street Boys" certainly did have the courage to stand against the Nazis where all their parents had fallen.

And it is a strange story of love, perhaps.

Of love among family members, of love for the country which one is a part of, and the mischievous, satirical love which Pan demonstrates.

Pan himself is simply lovable.

Most of Pan's lines take the form of semi-riddles in instructing Ofelia what to do; lines which have the flow of prose-poetry as he embellishes them with the strange half-purring, half-growling noise he makes in the back of his throat and his mocking smile.

I wonder if I was the only one in the whole theatre who saw the irony when he warned Ofelia about her second quest, warning her about what she would find; "It is not human." The irony, Pan. Neither are you. :)

And what must have been my favourite line of the whole movie: "This is a mandrake root, a plant which dreamed of being human."

A plant that would dream is a strangely adorable notion. ^_^

It's been some time since I last saw a film which made me happy in this bubbling kind of way, but perhaps, it's as I once observed about myself a long time ago: my inner child likely lives closer to the surface than most other people's. ^_^