Catching Up on Movies: Pan's Lab, Notes on a Scan, etc.

Mrs. TMcD recently described the experience of walking into our local video store as a strangely epiphantic event. It's been so long since we've seen any movies that we could rent just about anything. Yee-haa!! Movie bacchanal ahead. After seeing the grim Children of Men last week, I said, "Get something light and fun." So she brought home Notes on a Scandal and Pan's Labyrinth.

Where to begin? First, although you may now be imagining the tenaciousette as Mortella the Goth Queen, this incident may better reflect a disconnect between her undue sense of cinemaphile optimism and the bleak reality of last year's most critically praised movies. We live in a harsh world, says the cinematiste: best not to enjoy movies too much. Mortella couldn't make it through either film to the end. The tenacious one survived, however, so as to witness. Otherwise the fascists would win.

I won't say too much about Notes on a Scandal, except that it is one of those movies that is beautifully acted and utterly unpleasant. None of the characters are remotely sympathetic, and we know this from the start thanks to the diary voiceovers of Judi Dench, whose character is a classic schoolmarm: sweet, like Nurse Ratchet, except she's really a lesbian stalker. (I guess the idea is to deflate the stereotype of the old fuddy redeemed.) Her prey is Cate Blanchett, playing a Mary Kay Latourneau-type who is defined by little more than her weakness, of self-image, of character, of loins. Blanchett is one of the best actresses alive, but she exudes strength. Despite her Oscar nomination, this role pushed her well beyond her credibility. Dench, on the other hand, is truly exceptional, and she almost--almost--makes this film watchable, if only to see her mastery of her craft. The result is Dangerous Minds meets Dangerous Liaisons, but without any of the latter's joie de vivre in the manipulator's game.

Pan's Labyrinth is much better, but still tough going. As the blogger formerly known as Rebecca noted here, it doesn't skimp on the brutality. I've become pretty desensitized over the years, but I found scenes here excruciating (e.g., fascist arrests father and son peasants out hunting wabbits). No wonder little Ophelia retreats into a fantasy world. For me, it reminded most of Salvador Dali. I would take issue with one of Rebecca's main criticism's, however. She complains that there is no thematic connection between the fantasy scenes and the "real world" of Spanish fascists battling resistance fighters living in the woods. Maybe I'm wrong, but it seemed to me the link was pretty obvious, maybe too much so. The rebel spy who mothers Ophelia needs to steal a key to the storehouse; Ophelia is sent to retrieve a key from a monster's lair. The rebel spy needs to filch a knife from the fascist's banquet table; Ophelia is sent to retrieve a knife from another monster's banquet table. And the religious themes evident at the end are not simply grafted on. They appear at the very beginning of the film--as Ophelia longs for transcendence through natural beauty--and reappear throughout.

The point is that transcendence springs up from the experience of suffering and is, ironically enough, inseparable from it. And so, while the Spanish Church may embrace the iconography of power (a feast one cannot eat, as we learn in the stigmata monster's lair), true religion speaks only to the oppressed and stands with those who resist tyranny. That may not be a "new" theme, and the film may be heavy handed at times. But it is rare for modern movies, especially of the fantasy variety, to treat religion seriously, and I thought that, under the circumstances, PL did an admirable job, merging Christian themes and pagan myths into a reasonably coherent narrative. Much to respect in this film, just not so much to enjoy.