Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth is many things. Much like his earlier work, The Devil’s Backbone, it is a mixture of elements from different genres – the war-time period drama, the fairytale fantasy and the horror film – all jumbled up together with his numerous comic-book influences to create a film that is at once absurd, grotesque, melodramatic and yet sensitive, emotional and fascinating at the same time. Through his films, he shows a clear obsession with the fantastic and the macabre, and while many of his previous films are almost consumed by this obsession, teetering on the brink of becoming nothing more than showcases for fantastical creatures, here is his most mature and satisfying film yet. It is about a subject that is evidently close to his heart: the importance of imagination in a dark, violent world. It is his masterpiece.

Warning: Spoilers ahead!

The setting is World War II, Spain. A sickly, pregnant widow and her daughter, in financial limbo, are forced to live with treacherous Captain Vidal (played to menacing perfection by Sergi Lopez) in a rural home in the woods. Vidal does not intend to be a kind, loving husband or father, but is in fact only concerned for his unborn child. The young daughter, Ofelia (Ivana Baquero, in a wonderful performance), avoids the chaos happening around her by indulging herself in her numerous books of fairytale fantasies. However, she is inescapably aware that her mother might die and poor Ofelia will be left alone with her monstrous stepfather, Vidal. One night, she travels into the woods where she finds some sort of a gateway. But to what? Out of the shadows appears a creaky, faun (Doug Jones) who mistakes her for a princess and sends her out to complete three tasks. Only then will she be allowed to return to her kingdom through the aforementioned gateway. Parallel to this fantastic tale is the ever-real struggle of resistance soldiers attempting to ambush the evil fascist army led by Vidal. The soldiers are aided by a spy (Maribel Verdu) who poses as the maid of the house that takes care of Ofelia and her mother, and Vidal’s personal doctor (Alex Angulo) as they scheme to find ways to provide food and medicine to aid their cause for liberation.

Another thing to note about the difference between Pan’s Labyrinth and del Toro’s previous features is the heightened level of realism he creates. That’s not to say that the film strives for any form of realistic portrayal of World War II, but in comparison to his other films, with the exception of The Devil’s Backbone, this film is about a real time and place. But what separates this film even further from his other films is Ofelia’s world of fantasy, which in fact may not actually exist. In his previous films like Mimic and Blade II, fantastic creatures such as mothmen and vampires actually inhabit these realms of reality. But here in Pan’s Labyrinth, all the wonderful, intricately and lovingly detailed monsters and creatures present in the film may exist only in Ofelia’s young mind. Sure, the magic root which the faun says will make her mother better works. There are other signs in the film which also support the fact that these creatures actually exist. But why can’t anyone else see them? It could possibly be because she is a child and, as in all fairy tales, only the young and pure at heart can see such magical things. But how do we know for sure if they are real? We don’t, and there in lies the beauty of the film. Whether or not her fantasies are real, Ofelia’s quest to transport herself and her unborn brother to her great kingdom gives her hope for a better life. The ending of the film only serves to make the question of the existence of this world which only Ofelia sees even more ambiguous. Ofelia dies at the hands of Vidal but enters into her magical kingdom. Whether Ofelia has really transported herself to her kingdom or if the film’s closing moments are only of a lost dream, we will never know. The tragedy of the film is all the more poignant because of the ironic victory of the resistance soldiers. Like Ofelia, these soldiers had a dream of a better world. While on a large scale, for the betterment of a society, a dream has been achieved. However, the lingering doubt of the fulfilment of Ofelia’s own dream is heart-shattering.

Real or not, the fantasy aspect of the film has been created with close attention to detail. The structure of Ofelia’s fantastical journey borrows diligently from the famous fairytales of age, with every step of the journey followed like breadcrumbs on a yellow brick road. Some might even say too closely. Yet it is these so-called ‘clichés’ that make this film such an entertaining experience. Del Toro takes all these fairytale elements and makes them all his own by incorporating a kind of sensuous, devilish mischievousness to Ofelia’s various encounters with a child-eating monster and ravenous gargantuan toad to name a few. Del Toro makes each of Ofelia’s encounters scary, comical and ingenious in their execution. Here is a man who takes fairytales seriously. To aid in making del Toro’s world of fantasy and dreams a reality are Guillermo Navarro’s luminous photography, Eugenio Caballero’s set designs, Javier Navarette suitably mournful score, and, of course, the beautiful and grotesque works of the costume and make-up department. The trees in the woods have a spirally, Burton-ish quality about them and the architecture looks as if it came out of a Mike Mignola comic (whose Hellboy was the basis of del Toro’s film). Next to Tim Burton’s Sleepy Hollow and Alex Proyas’ Dark City, this is one of the most well-crafted fantasy films I’ve ever seen.

It seems that this time, it is not del Toro’s young hero that comes of age, but rather del Toro himself. With all the creatures that fascinated him and of which he tried desperately to bring to life in the alternate reality of cinema, he has finally understood that what was important was not that they may never truly exist outside of his own fertile imagination, but that they even existed at all in his consciousness. The hope and sheer pleasure that one’s own imagination gives him or herself is boundless and del Toro understands that. After an entire life spent reading fantasy books and comic books, watching films of all sorts and expanding his fantastical world of fiction even further, del Toro has made a film that reaches out not only to the young at heart but also the young in mind.