If ever there were a perfect film to which Labyrinth could pass the torch, this would be the one.

 

Cast: Stephanie Leonidas, Jason Barry, Rob Brydon, Gina Mckee

Director: Dave McKean, (also designer.)

Writers: screenplay by Neil Gaiman, story by Gaiman and McKean

[Produced by the Jim Henson Company, Producer Lisa Henson.]

 

Running time: 104 min

 

2005

 

            Based upon their long running collaboration on DC Comic’s “Sandman,” it always seemed to me that Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean lived in their own little world, which, from the results of this film, seems to have been largely untapped.  Each creator has a strong, individual body of work in both comics and film.  Gaiman has even published a few novels.  Each has a particular style that portrays a bizarre myth and dream driven world, separate but strikingly complimentary, as if linked, tethered through an alternate plane.

 

            It seems the two were saving greatness for the right time.

 

            MirrorMask rips open the tap on their imaginary world, wide, releasing a flood of wonder, both for children, (maybe a bit too weird for younger kids, like 1-3,) and adults…definitely for adults.  One cool thing about this film is its appeal to adults.  It is some strange (Bradbury meets Dr. Who meets Jim Henson meets Harryhausen on the set of Monty Python) universe in which anything, it seems, goes, but not without a brilliant logical grounding.  Yeah…definitely a weird film, but it’s unbelievably great, and undeniably creative.

 

            The likes of this film have not been seen, perhaps ever, but certainly not since Henson died.  Much praise to Lisa Henson, Jim’s daughter, for doing something that would most assuredly have made her dad proud.  Specifically getting this film made, and giving the filmmakers the freedom they needed to do it.

 

            Henson rocked the eighties with two masterpieces of creepy children’s fantasy, The Dark Crystal, and Labyrinth.  Say what you will about their content, inherently silly or heavy handed in some places, they, like this film, are both undeniably creative, and they appeal to all ages, (despite Bowie’s flamboyance.)  Real artists made those films, burning the midnight oil no doubt, creating solid realities to truly capture the imagination.  Since his passing, Henson’s mantle of children’s fantasy has rested soundly on the shoulders of anime, (try as Robert Rodriguez might,) with great films like Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away, as well as less, uh, quality fare.  By this I mean TV shows like Pokemon.  Japanese imports that are a lot like some video games, full of flash, but with no real bang.  There seems to be lots of action in shows like this, but often it is just one battle to gain more super powers after another.

Obviously Disney has always had a hand in the children’s genre, always the looming corporate competitor to Henson’s grass roots, super creative little guy company.  Both have made quality work, but the bigger, well, they’ve made a whole lot more crap, what can I say. 

Disney is lucky to have Pixar, whose digital achievements re-set the standard for quality in kid’s entertainment by not forgetting us older kids.  Also, thankfully, a new guard is taking over this year, as Disney has completed a purchase of Pixar, and contracted the services of Apple’s Steve Jobs to sit on it’s board, giving me hope that maybe some of the integrity of new blood will bring forth something good and fresh for a change.

Disney already smartened up a few years back when, recognizing the threat anime was posing to its title, they began handling the importing.  Hiring A-list casts in some cases to dub the English versions.  Disney holds the rights to American release on anything by Miyazaki, director/ creator of Howl’s Moving Castle, Spirited Away, Castle in the Sky, and Kiki’s Delivery Service.  (Howl’s Moving Castle and Spirited Away are the two that received the royal treatment of a theatrical release, but all have made it to DVD in plenty nice packaging.)

Even with Pixar, though, inherent colonial/continental lore has been lacking.  Tim Burton springs to mind however, (no doubt in connection to Depp’s Ichabod Crane,) as someone who certainly helped ease the passing of Henson’s greatness.  In his prime, with films like Edward Scissorhands, Ed Wood, both of his Batman films, Sleepy Hollow, Big Fish, and animated works like Nightmare Before Christmas and James and the Giant Peach, Burton can be a wizard at capturing your imagination.  But he has a very particular voice, a channeling of Poe and Price, with a dash of Hammer Horror, which sometimes is more dreary adult creep than wondrous children’s entertainment.  His work moves on away from accessibility to kids then, and more toward his continuous dialogue with his forefathers in film.

Ridley Scott tried something strong with Legend and got skewered, but definitely managed to catch my generation’s hearts with his beautiful maiden Mia Sara and Tim Curry brilliantly portraying the Lord of Darkness, (one of the best make-up jobs of all time.)  [Since it’s release as a director’s cut on DVD, with a Jerry Goldsmith score, I consider Legend a recovered classic, previously suffering from a dismal Tangerine Dream score, which ripped you from the fantasy of the film and into the eighties.  A similar and unresolved fate befell the potentially great Ladyhawke, with a frighteningly shrill score by the Alan Parson’s Project, which will remind you every second you are indeed, watching a movie.  And who wants that?]  Unfortunately, one can only watch the Princess Bride so many times before starting to hate it you love it so much.  Lord of the Rings is it’s own universe and cannot be related to any normal film, and it works because it has a heart of classic lore; primal human sagas common to adults and kids, though they may be unaware.  Fantasy is a tough racket.  If it’s too much for kids, critics like me tend to knock it.  Likewise if its too much for adults, or too cheesy.  Why do I want a median representative?  Neither kids nor adults like to be insulted.  That’s why Pixar works.  That’s why there is nothing else but anime films like Miyazaki and Mononoke, and Pixar’s digital realm.

Enter MirrorMask.  Delivering one thing anime cannot: a spirituality and mysticism colored not by Buddhism and eastern ways, but a heart and wonder cast in the shadows of European magic and fires of western mysticism.  There is nothing classical, per se, in the imagery of this film, but its feeling definitely lends itself to the fantastic ancient wonders of gods, both good and evil, walking giants and manifestation of dreams.  There is no Christ imagery, but a savior stands, a betrayal takes place, and a destiny plays out.  Posterity is marked in the lives of all involved, as a beautiful circle is woven.

We can only get so attached to anime, (with the exception on Asia-philes like me,) because we do not have Buddhist roots.  Nor do our ancestors spring from feudal or imperial soil…well, not the same soil anyway, and not the same empire, but definitely not the same ways.  I guess that’s what it comes down to.  Culture is merging as ways are shared through expressions of culture like film and music, but we all still have our own ways, and our own roots.  Gaiman and McKean tap successfully into that weird, gray, misty Euro-Brit kind of fantasy.  The Grimm’s lived there, and Mother Goose, though she may be American, (I cannot recall,) certainly was weaned upon it.  It is the world in which Terry Gilliam and Shakespeare reside.  For those who even thought about going to a Renfair, enjoyed Legend of Zelda, or longed to live in their dreams or fairytales, this is their movie moment to be a kid again.

 

There is not a minute in this film in which my eye wandered away.  Regardless of any feeling one might have about CGI, the rich atmosphere of this film is undeniable.  The world is seamlessly comprised of digital, hand drawn or painted art, puppets, and live actors, bringing to reality a world completely other, and completely engrossing.  “Of puppets and of memory,” Gaiman said of his favorite comic project with McKean, “Mr. Punch.”  The same might be said here, but “of dreams,” as well.

Growing up as an illustrator borne, dreams, memory, observation/ voyeurism, all weighed heavily in formulating a visual world in which I live out my every breath.  This film is Labyrinth for me.  Labyrinth itself is very creative and wondrous in its own right, but MirrorMask taps my artist’s heart.  Dreams and other worlds are but a breath away, and getting lost in them is a dreamer’s first desire.

McKean speaks of his inspiration as a boy, reading a book about monster movies, describing them as “ always a bit blurry, a bit strange.”  Truly this man must live in a dream state.  His whole body of work has that amorphous ambiguity, full of wonder, with a dash of nightmare.

 

Films like this don’t happen very often anymore, which is what, through fervent rambling, I am attempting to convey.  There are moments in film in which creators take full advantage of the technology at their disposal, yielding magical results.  This is, no doubt, one of those rare moments.

All the work by Gaiman and McKean is impressive in scope and imagination to behold, and much of it is available online or in local comic shops, (please give them your business.)

Remember the myths of the old world.  Dip your toe into the well of dreams and classic lore turned modern fantasy, and do yourself, (or the kid inside you,) a favor, see this movie.

 

Three and a half Stars, count’em ***1/2

 

K