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Film: The Devil’s Backbone
Release date: 28th February 2011
Certificate: 15
Running time: 106 mins
Director: Guillermo del Toro
Starring: Marissa Paredes, Eduardo Noriega, Federico Luppi, Inigo Garces, Irene Visedo
Genre: Fantasy/Horror/Mystery/Thriller
Studio: Optimum
Format: Blu-ray
Country: Spain/Mexico
Guillermo del Toro has established himself as one of the most popular auteurs working today. With critical success for Pan’s Labyrinth and Hellboy 2: The Golden Army, his two most recent films, del Toro has a certain imagery and style associated with him. In The Devil’s Backbone, his third feature film, this style is subdued into an atmospheric and effective ghost story.
Set in the 1930s during the Spanish Civil War, The Devil’s Backbone follows the story of Carlos, a young boy who is taken to an orphanage by his revolutionary guardians after the death of his father. Located in the middle of a vast wasteland, it is home to a large number of orphan boys; an elderly lovelorn professor; a fiery principal with one leg; a former resident of the orphanage, who is now a caretaker with a nasty plan; and an ominous unexploded bomb.
As Carlos struggles to settle in with the other boys, he starts to see the ghost of a young boy wandering the orphanage, known to the others as “the one who sighs.” Jacinto, the caretaker, plots to steal some gold ingots kept by Carmen, the principal, until the “cause” needs them.
As tensions grow in the war and the orphanage, the professor Dr Casares decides they have to leave the orphanage. But Jacinto and the boy ghost have other plans…
The Devil’s Backbone is not a typical del Toro film. The director is normally known for his fantastical visions and horrific monsters, but these are absent here, replaced with a subtle spooky atmosphere. There are still hints of his trademark gruesome imagery, such as the unborn foetuses with mutated spinal cords suspended in jars in Dr Casares’ office. However, those who come to the film expecting monsters or big set pieces will be disappointed. What they will find is an effective ghost story, which builds up tension and suspense without reverting to typical horror clichés involving a child ghost.
Using subtle sound design and a visually distinctive location, del Toro creates a sense of increasing suspense as all the different parties begin to come into conflict with each other. It is no surprise that del Toro is a huge Hitchcock fan, using the unexploded bomb in the centre of the orphanage as a symbol of all the tensions simmering in the orphanage. The story builds effectively, and it soon becomes clear that the true villain of the piece is Jacinto, the callous caretaker played with menace by the excellent Eduardo Noriega. Like in most del Toro films, the monster is the man, not the beast.
The true stars of the film are the cast of children. Del Toro often manages to obtain great performances from young actors, and this film is no exception. Led by Carlos and Jaime, played by Fernando Tielve and Inigo Garces, the young ensemble create distinctive well rounded characters with the screen time they receive. They are all believable, even when the story becomes dramatic and more violent towards the end. The rest of the cast all perform admirably, whilst veteran actor Federico Luppi as Dr Casares really conveys the sense of years lost to unrequited love.
Shot by del Toro’s frequent collaborator Guillermo Navarro, the film is a visual treat. Forgoing the fantastic vistas and worlds that he normally creates, del Toro uses the location and colours to bring us into this world. Whether it’s the empty coldness of the hallways at night, or the blinding brightness of the sun during the day, each shot is arranged with meticulous detail. There are also many references to classic westerns; the famous shot from John Ford’s The Searchers is evoked several times, adding to the sense of isolation.
The state of limbo the characters seem to be in is referenced again and again, adding a deeper layer to the story and the mythology of the ghost story on show. Despite the references to Japanese horror films (the ghost design was based on recent, popular J-Horror films such as Ringu or Ju-On: The Grudge), there are no cheap scares. Everything feels necessary, and as such, when the pieces come together at the end, it is an extremely satisfying conclusion.
It seems a shame that del Toro has found success the way he has. With the big-budgeted The Mountains Of Madness due to start filming this year - Tom Cruise supposedly in the running for the lead role - it will be a long time before we have another personal film such as The Devil’s Backbone from Del Toro. Which is a shame as del Toro has proved in this film, and his earlier and later works Cronos and Pan’s Labyrinth, that he can take a genre movie and inject it with warmth, humanity and a deeper meaning.
Guillermo del Toro’s The Devil’s Backbone is an excellent film. More subtle and nuanced than his Hollywood output, but with no lack of creativity or imagination. Those expecting more of an out and out horror may find that there are less kills or scares than they would expect. They will, however, find an atmospheric ghost story which makes you think. JDW
Ghostly goings-on are the order of the day in this eerie shocker from Mexican fright meister Guillermo del Toro.
Set during the final days of the Spanish Civil War, the film takes place in remote orphanage haunted by a mysterious ghost child named Santi. The children of the orphanage are terrified of Santi, but when they learn the true circumstances of his death, they begin plotting to help him get his revenge.
Film: The Devil’s Backbone - Special Edition
Release date: 28th February 2011
Certificate: 15
Running time: 106 mins
Director: Guillermo del Toro
Starring: Marissa Paredes, Eduardo Noriega, Federico Luppi, Inigo Garces, Irene Visedo
Genre: Fantasy/Horror/Mystery/Thriller
Studio: Optimum
Format: Blu-ray
Country: Spain/Mexico
A modern-day vampire film which re-works the ancient themes of fear and desire.
Jesus Gris (Federico Luppi) is an antique dealer who, with his grandaughter Aurora, discovers a mysterious scarab-like object at the base of an old statue. The statue's previous owner was a 16th century alchemist, and the object turns out to be the Cronos which grants the user eternal life in exchange for blood.
Intrigued, Jesus is drawn into the grip of the Cronos, and when Dieter and his nephew, Angel, hound the antique dealer, Aurora tries to save her grandfather, but she too becomes a part of the thirst for blood.
Film: Cronos - Special Edition
Release date: 28th February 2011
Certificate: 18
Running time: 92 mins
Director: Guillermo del Toro
Starring: Federico Luppi, Ron Perlman, Claudio Brook, Tamara Shanath, Margarita Isabel
Genre: Comedy/Drama/Horror/Thriller
Studio: Optimum
Format: Blu-ray
Country: Mexico
Film: The Devil's Backbone
Release date: 25th March 2002
Certificate: 15
Running time: 103 mins
Director: Guillermo del Toro
Starring: Marisa Paredes, Eduardo Noriega, Federico Luppi, Fernando Tielve, Íñigo Garcés
Genre: Fantasy/Horror/Mystery/Thriller
Studio: Optimum
Format: DVD
Country: Spain/Mexico
It may not have gathered as much critical acclaim as Pan’s Labyrinth, nor achieved the commercial success of Hellboy or Blade 2, but it was The Devil’s Backbone (2001) that Mexican director Guillermo Del Toro described as his most personal film.
With the Fascist forces in the ascendancy during the final days of the Spanish Civil War, young Carlos becomes the latest addition to the number of war orphans under the care of the kindly Dr. Casares and his devoted headmistress Carmen. In addition to the dozens of young boys, the orphanage also houses a cache of gold intended for the Republican cause – a treasure that’s constantly on the mind of the devious caretaker Jacinto.
On his arrival, Carlos immediately clashes with the class bully, and it’s not long before he’s on the receiving end of Jacinto’s violent, quick-temper. But this soon becomes the least of his worries, as he begins to hear rumours of a mysterious presence haunting the orphanage, referred to by the other boys as “the one who sighs.”
After earning his peers’ respect with a harrowing late-night journey into the school’s kitchen, Carlos begins to learn some more unsettling news: one of the young boys (whose bed Carlos has inherited) recently vanished. While several of the boys believe that Santi simply ran away, a few of the older boys suspect murder – and nearly all the boys believe that Santi is still around, albeit in ghostly form.
When Carlos confirms the boys’ fears, and encounters the ghost of Santi who tells him that “many will die,” it is a prediction that comes less as a threat than as a warning…
Foreshadowing many of the themes of The Devil’s Backbone and its companion piece Pan’s Labyrinth is a wonderful 1973 Spanish film called The Spirit Of The Beehive. Directed by Victor Erice, it relates the story of 6-year-old Ana who begins to associate a Republican solider hiding from Franco’s troops in her parents’ sheepfold with the monster from Frankenstein, after a touring film company projects the film upon a wall in her hometown. It’s neither a horror film nor a supernatural thriller, but, in many ways, it can be seen as the antecedent to a particularly Spanish sub-genre, where the painful reality of the Civil War and the Fascist ascent to power is seen through the eyes of a young child. Within this tradition, Del Toro has made a particular brand of the supernatural his own – one in which the horror contained in real life is so all-encompassing that his ghosts and monsters begin to elicit more sympathy than terror in relation to it. It’s such a central aspect of Del Toro’s art that his films become more overwhelmingly sad than frightening. His ghosts are as much haunted as they haunt, wracked figures of loneliness and hurt, seemingly born out of a child’s imagination, and in this film, as in the Del Toro produced The Orphanage, taking the form of a child.
The ghost of Santi appears very early in the film, and it is made clear from the off that he is, in fact, a ghost. Del Toro does not go in for any ambiguity here, never suggesting his apparition as a figment of the imagination so often seen in more conventional ghost stories. In terms of frights, the early encounters with the ghost are the most powerful. Del Toro’s use of sound is possibly the most effective aspect – a soundtrack of mysterious rustlings, footsteps and disembodied screams - the spooky voice of Santi more like a death-rattle than a sigh. When we see him fully, he’s a no less disconcerting and creepy presence - black eyes in a pale Goya-mask of a face, his outline shimmering in ripples like the stream of blood which floats upwards from his head, forever trapped in the moment of his watery death. As the film progresses, though, and we learn more about Santi the boy, our fear dissipates slightly, as we begin to sympathise with him as a victim of the same tragedies as the other orphans. For this reason, he never truly seems a threat to the boys, and when he warns of some future catastrophe destined to occur, sure enough, it comes not from Santi, nor from any other supernatural force, but from all-too-human actions inspired by greed and spite.
Just as in Pan’s Labyrinth, the true horror of the film emanates less from the realms of make-believe than from a world recognisably our own. The secluded orphanage is the most obvious symbol of a country torn apart by Civil War, home to the fatherless, and representing a Spain abandoned by the international community as the Fascist forces gain supremacy. The unexploded bomb that lies embedded in the courtyard highlights the fact that the orphanage’s seclusion does not make it any more of a haven from the surrounding troubles, however.
Appropriately, most of the characters are damaged in some way - all part of the same catastrophic events of the Civil War. Carmen is in a constant state of discomfort from her prosthetic leg. The doctor’s impotence not only prevents him from acting on his feelings for Carmen, but is symbolic of a wider inability to act – to put his humanist values into action against the brutal dictates of the Fascists. Even Jacinto, the villain of the piece, is not wholly without sympathy - an abandoned orphan himself, his fragile emotional state cannot have been helped by entering into a sexual relationship with Carmen not long after he turned 17; one he is only too aware as being purely sexual, and almost incestuous in light of the older woman’s role as mother figure to the boys. It is this complexity in terms of character that elevates the film far beyond standard ghost story fare. In fact, Del Toro has so much going on behind his ghost story, it’s a minor miracle the film makes sense at all.
That it does is testament to Del Toro’s exquisite craftsmanship. M. Night Shyamalan could learn much from the cohesion of The Devil’s Backbone’s screenplay, with its plot twists and multiple layers never feeling forced or used merely for effect. Backing up the cohesion is a cinematography which eschews generic gloom and claustrophobia in favour of a vibrant use of colour (with much of the film taking place in daylight, baking under the Spanish sun), and with buildings and everyday objects strangely oversized, as though seen through a child’s eyes. The predominance of red and yellow tones (in sandstone buildings, in the parched desert surrounding the orphanage, in blood) indicates this is a film very much about Spain, but it is amber that is the most thematically significant. Amber tones link Santi’s watery grave to the deformed embryos preserved in the doctor’s jars, as well as relating to the voiceover which opens the film defining a ghost as “a moment of pain…an insect trapped in amber.”
The film is so visually polished, so Hollywood slick, and seemingly custom-built for the appreciation of a mainstream audience, that at first you might not notice just how incredibly dark some of its themes are. That we see the fascistic Jacinto in one early scene naked and so eroticised even the freedom-fighter Carmen cannot resist him suggests Del Toro is implying there is something inherently sexy about fascism, something in its call to order and obedience that we are irresistibly drawn to. It is one of the film’s ironies that the children, presumably the most vulnerable to the violence and brutality of war, must finally resort to violence themselves, in a scene reminiscent of Lord Of The Flies, in order to both save their lives and reassert values of humanism and goodness against so much totalitarian barbarity. Such themes give The Devil’s Backbone the ability to disturb and move long after the initial thrills and shocks of more run-of-the-mill horror films have faded away.
While The Devil’s Backbone falls just short of being a masterpiece in quite the same way as Pan’s Labyrinth, it is still a small gem of a movie. Forgetting Del Toro’s own output, it’s hard to think of many horror films in recent memory possessing quite as much depth, sub-text and emotional impact. One of the best films to emerge from that fertile period of Spanish horror during the first decade of this century, and highly recommended. GJK
Film: The Guillermo Del Toro Collection
Release date: 12th March 2007
Certificate: 18
Running time: 310 mins
Director: Guillermo Del Toro
Starring: Federico Luppi, Ron Perlman, Marisa Paredes, Eduardo Noriega, Ivana Baquero
Genre: Comedy/Drama/Fantasy/Horror/Mystery/Thriller/War
Studio: Optimum
Format: DVD
Country: Mexico/Spain/USA
Guillermo Del Toro is easily one of the most imaginative, original and instantly recognisable directors working today. From his humble beginnings as an independent filmmaker, the Mexican has produced numerous classic films, and in recent years made the move to mainstream Hollywood. Always present in his work is a rich and iconic visual sensibility, relatable and sympathetic monsters and freaks, and frequent references to fairytale, folklore and religion.
Cronos (1994)
When Jesús Gris (Federico Luppi), an elderly antiques dealer, comes into possession of an ancient device in the form of a clockwork beetle, he is unwittingly transformed into a vampire as the device activates and stings him. He becomes more youthful, and far stronger, but develops an overpowering urge to consume blood. He is hunted by a dying millionaire and his nephew (Claudio Brook and Ron Perlman, respectively) for knowledge of the device and its promise of eternal life…
Cronos foreshadows many aspects of Del Toro’s career: it features a clockwork device in the shape of a scarab beetle (both insects and clockwork mechanisms have become instantly recognisable Del Toro visual motifs) and the film also features soon-to become-regular collaborators Federico Luppi and Ron Pearlman (the former would appear in The Devil’s Backbone and Pan’s Labyrinth, the latter in the Hellboy films and Blade II).
The film has some undeniably memorable scenes, including Gris’ first experience of a vampire’s need for blood (he laps it off a bathroom floor) and his resurrection in a morgue moments before cremation. The film does, however, tend to drag a little (especially the lengthy prologue and build up to Gris’ initial transformation) – despite only being 94 minutes, it can seem longer.
While it’s very stylistically striking, and has some iconic scenes, Del Toro’s debut is easily the weakest of his Spanish-language films. Several ideas don’t quite work and the story loses its energy on occassions. However, Cronos is a perfectly respectable first film all the same, and Del Toro was just finding his feet after all. Even here you can find evidence of his future brilliance.
Del Toro’s big screen debut sets the tone for the rest of his career – it’s dark, imaginative and fun. After his career began in TV and short film production, Cronos is certainly a daring and exciting big-screen debut.
The Devil’s Backbone (2001)
Far more than the standard ghost story, The Devil’s Backbone is a very tense and extremely emotional experience. It’s effectively atmospheric and creepy (it’s set in a rundown and isolated orphanage during the Spanish Civil War) and the cast all manage to get across the tragedy and horror of the events that unfold.
When young Carlos (Fernando Tielve) arrives at a remote orphanage in the final stages of the Spanish Civil War, it is immediately apparent that all is not well. There is an unexploded bomb stuck in the ground outside, sinister relationships between the orphanage’s staff and children, and the ghost of a young boy wandering the corridors. What dark secrets will Carlos stumble upon?
You have all the standard scares you’d expect in any horror film, but these are contrasted by tensely drawn out scenes - and the ghost itself, Santi (Junio Valverde), is brilliantly realised, managing to evoke the right mix of fear and sympathy from an audience.
The cast all bring a little something extra to their roles, and this helps them become believable characters, from Carlos’ inherent goodness and need to find the truth to the tragically lonely headmistress Carmen (Marisa Paredes), the kind and deeply philosophical Dr Casares (Federico Luppi), the emotionally unstable and threatening caretaker Jacinto (Eduardo Noriega) and the emotionally repressed bully Jaime (Íñigo Garcés).
“What is a ghost? A tragedy condemned to repeat itself time and again? An instant of pain, perhaps. Something dead which still seems to be alive. An emotion suspended in time. Like a blurred photograph. Like an insect trapped in amber.” This opening question urges us to look past what scares us, and conquer our fears. It fits in with Del Toro’s usual ethos - that his monsters are mostly sympathetic creatures, and should not be taken at face value, as simply ‘evil’.
The Devil’s Backbone is well written, well acted and extremely scary. Del Toro makes use of just enough horror clichés whilst adding his own take on the genre. It further cements his position as an extremely original and rewarding director to take an interest in.
Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)
Pan’s Labyrinth is a masterpiece of fairytale storytelling, effortlessly blending the real world with fantasy. Del Toro returned to his roots after a few years in Hollywood, crafting a believable fable full to the brim with emotion.
Set in fascist Spain in 1944, a young girl, Ofelia (Ivana Baquero), is sent with her pregnant mother to live in the care of her stepfather Vidal (Sergi López), a captain in General Franco’s military who is fighting guerrilla rebels.
Ofelia loves to read and has a vivid imagination, and she frequently escapes the clutches of her brutal stepfather to explore her new surroundings. One such escapade leads to the discovery an ancient labyrinth within which she meets a mysterious faun who promises her eternal life if she completes three tasks for him…
Pan’s Labyrinth is a film of contrasts – we are shown the horrific brutalities of war one moment and truly beautiful fantasies the next. One minute we see guerrilla rebels being brutally tortured by Vidal, the next Ofelia is being guided down ancient corridors by fairies. We see these worlds through the eyes of Ofelia, through the eyes of an imaginative 12-year-old –the distinctions between fantasy and reality are not yet clearly defined. The director can really go to town with his distinct visual flair in this film – everything is beautifully designed, from the labyrinth itself to the ancient faun, the fairies and the horrifying array of creatures Ofelia has to face.
The cast are of the highest calibre. Ivana Baquero makes Ofelia a believable heroine, full of wonder and imagination, and ultimately guided by her need to do the right thing. Sergi López makes Vidal a truly despicable villain and Maribel Verdú plays Mercedes, Vidal’s housekeeper and secretly a mole for the guerrilla rebels with a dignified defiance. We should, of course, not overlook Doug Jones, an often unsung hero of film. Because of his highly physical acting style and slight frame, he more often than not performs under heavy makeup and/or prosthetics. In Pan’s, Jones plays the Faun and the Pale Man (the grotesque, skinny creature who wears his eyes in his hands in the dinner table scene) – he is responsible for the portrayal of both of the most memorable creatures in the film!
Pan’s Labyrinth is not only visually stunning, but can rely on the strengths of every single cast member to make fantasy believable. The plot is emotionally intense, gripping and tragic, and Javier Nevarrete’s haunting yet beautiful score effortlessly carries and reinforces the story. Guillermo Del Toro continues to prove that not only is he a master of visuals, but of character as well.
Guillermo Del Toro’s films have steadily improved over the years. From a daring but unremarkable debut with Cronos to the chilling and far more entertaining The Devil’s Backbone, and then the pinnacle of his creativity, Pan’s Labyrinth. These films are proof that Guillermo Del Toro has demonstrated more imagination, originality and technical ability in two decades than many Hollywood directors demonstrate in their entire careers. SSP
Film: Cronos
Release date: 6th February 2006
Certificate: 18
Running time: 88 mins
Director: Guillermo Del Toro
Starring: Federico Luppi, Ron Perlman, Claudio Brook, Margarita Isabel, Tamara Shanath
Genre: Comedy/Drama/Horror/Thriller
Studio: Optimum
Format: DVD
Country: Mexico
As the first feature of Guillermo Del Toro, Cronos has gained notoriety due to the Mexican writer and director’s more successful later films, including Pan’s Labyrinth and Hollywood blockbusters such as Hellboy.
In 1536, alchemist Humberto Oganelli creates the Cronos device, a small golden casing containing an intricate mechanism and an immortal parasite. The device, designed to bestow eternal life on its owner, is merely the stuff of legend until it is discovered by antiques dealer, Jesus Gris, in the base of a wooden statue. Gris accidentally triggers the mechanism within the device, which clamps to his hand and draws blood.
Agreeing with his young granddaughter Aurora to keep the Cronos device a secret, Jesus develops a desperate thirst, and later allows the device to feed on his blood. Jesus becomes noticeably rejuvenated but has develops a craving for blood.
The existence of the device is also known by the dying Dieter de la Guardia, who assigns his nephew, Angel, the task of locating the statue and its priceless cargo. Angel fails to recover the Cronos device, and later appears to kill Jesus in an attempt to beat him into submission. Jesus lies unconscious during his own funeral, narrowly avoids being cremated and escapes, although his body is rotting. He finds his way to his granddaughter’s rooftop den, where he avoids sunlight by sleeping in her toy box.
Jesus and Aurora search de la Guardia’s quarters for the manuscript explaining how to safely use the Cronos device. They are confronted by de la Guardia and Angel and become involved in a battle to escape…
From unquenchable thirst to slow realisation that he hungers for raw meat and then blood, Jesus’ descent into vampirism is gradual, affecting and, in context, forgivable. As the device rejuvenates the old antiques dealer, Federico Luppi (in a role originally written for Max Von Sydow) gives a portrayal of a man with a new lease of life that is heart-warming, yet tinged with sadness, as Jesus acknowledges the high price of this reinvigoration. The sexual nature of Jesus’ sessions with the Cronos device adds an uncomfortable element far removed from other vampire stories’ rape metaphors – Jesus’ lust for blood rarely involves other people, as he seeks to assuage his bloodlust in a non-violent manner. Scenes showing Jesus distressed over whether to lick spilt blood from the floor of a bathroom are upsetting and wonderfully staged.
Cronos has terrific production standards for a first time feature. Interiors are well-worn and grimy, Jesus’ shop is filled with authentic-looking antiques, and de la Guardia’s quarters above an industrial complex are sinister and sterile. Moreover, Del Toro draws horrific scenes from innocuous events and objects: in particular, the deadly Cronos device itself, with its intricate, syringe-like mechanism, produces some effective chills.
The film is notable for being dual-language – Ron Perlman switches between Spanish and English, and the opening narration is also in English. Del Toro’s disregard for filmic conventions in spoken language pervades other parts of the film, which is filled with pleasingly specific quirks, such as Aurora’s rooftop den, the grandfather’s miniature tea party with his granddaughter, and the grimy crematorium with its nonchalant worker.
Compared to many vampire films, Cronos is concise – thematically, as well as in terms of setting. There is a neat circularity to its features: for example, it is Angel who searches for the archangel, and the image of beetles recur throughout – first crawling out of the statue’s face, then mirrored in the appearance and piercing ‘attack’ of the Cronos device.
While Luppi appears in almost every scene, the supporting cast is equally dependable. Ron Perlman’s Angel De la Guardia is callous and self-centred, providing many of the comic moments in the film, as well as being the most repellent character. His grunting horseplay with Aurora at the beginning of the film is both humorous and deeply sinister, as is his bizarre preoccupation with cosmetic surgery. Jesus’ wife Mercedes is played by Margarita Isabel with sad-eyed humanity, providing naïve warmth to balance the coldness of the film’s villains.
Cronos include many themes that Del Toro would explore in his later films The Devil’s Backbone and Pan’s Labyrinth, particularly the inclusion of a wise but innocent child. However, this film is notable (in Del Toro’s oeuvre - and horror cinema in general) for viewing events through the eyes of an elderly man, thus relegating the child to bystander.
Cronos doesn’t entirely break the mould of horror cinema, however. In particular, the exaggerated, slurping sounds of flowing blood are oddly conventional in a film that appears brave in many other respects, and Javier Álvarez’s score is effective but again adds little to the atmosphere.
It’s clear to see why Cronos secured Guillermo Del Toro’s reputation as an imaginative and resourceful director. It is easily one of the most effective horror chillers of the 1990s, and its casual disregard for cinematic conventions is welcome in a genre that too often veers close to pastiche. It’s visceral, affecting and unusual – and, in its small way, Cronos is a triumph of truly international cinema. TM
Film: The Guillermo Del Toro Collection
Release date: 12th March 2007
Certificate: 18
Running time: 310 mins
Director: Guillermo Del Toro
Starring: Federico Luppi, Ron Perlman, Marisa Paredes, Eduardo Noriega, Ivana Baquero
Genre: Comedy/Drama/Fantasy/Horror/Mystery/Thriller/War
Studio: Optimum
Format: DVD
Country: Mexico/Spain/USA
Crafting some of horror’s most unusual works, Guillermo Del Toro is first and foremost a horror fan, not prepared to simply get the job done – and boy, does it show. His works over the years have included the underrated Mimic, Blade 2 and both Hellboy and its sequel. This collection, released for the first time on Blu-ray, showcases his talent for producing poignant chills with his first feature Cronos, The Devil’s Backbone and the much-celebrated Pan’s Labyrinth.
Cronos (1993)
Jesus Gris (Federico Luppi) is an elderly antiques dealer who happens upon an ancient mechanical device, shaped like a beetle, once belonging to a 16th century alchemist.
Housing an immortal parasite, which offers him the chance of eternal life, Gris readily agrees, at first not overly concerned about an extreme aversion to daylight and an agonising thirst for human blood – the pros far weighing out the cons as he grows ever more youthful with every sip.
That is until he yearns for the vital fluid of his innocent granddaughter…
With its plentiful supply of body horror and insects guaranteed to leave us insecure at the very least, Cronos is a neat vampire riff that’s imaginative, witty and right on the money.
If clamping the ancient device on Luppi’s chest doesn’t make you look away, or if beetles escaping from one of the holes in the statue fail to send a chill down your spine, the trashy image of Jesus licking blood from a white-tiled toilet floor will certainly affect you.
Federico Luppi and Ron Perlman are superb as the warring relations, with spot-on dialogue that requires little padding to move the story on at a satisfying pace. The special effects and locations still fascinate, and the gothic soundtrack compliments the former splendidly.
Dark, and in places extremely stylish, Del Toro’s first outing at the tender age of 29 is perhaps let down by a script that never really hits full throttle – yet its deliciously entertaining and frightfully scary nonetheless; certainly worth getting your teeth into.
The Devil’s Backbone (2001)
Set during the final days of the Civil War, the young inhabitants of a Spanish orphanage are brutally terrorised by Santi, a decaying spirit who stalks the building’s dark, decaying hallways.
Carlos, a 10-year-old boy, and son of a fallen Republican hero, is badgered incessantly by the child-like ghost upon his arrival. Having to contend with a violent caretaker, a bully, and an un-exploded bomb that dominates the orphanage’s courtyard, still ticking away, Santi latching onto him is all too much.
The only way to rid himself of the spirit is to delve into the past and learn the true story of the child’s death, in turn revealing the real source of danger and interpreting the ghost’s gloomy prediction that “many of you will die”…
More than just a simple ghost story, The Devil’s Backbone somehow manages to pull its diverse sub-plots together in such an explicable and beautifully realised way that come the final third, you’ll be deeply moved and will completely forget about how terrifying the journey actually was.
It may build slowly, but the tense murder-mystery elements that keep you guessing until the very end, tinged with unspeakable brutality and fantastic performances from its cast of mainly children, will barely leave you time to breathe.
It’s because of the excellent performances that we do find enough empathy, even for the tormenting ghost Santi, and also why Del Toro doesn’t need to try too hard to scare us. Children are more likely to open doors they shouldn’t, after all. That’s not to say the chills are lazy, even if the finer moments take place in the basement - and when Carlos is hiding in the closet.
Atmospheric visuals and subtle special effects are enhanced by an eerie soundtrack punctured by mysterious noises that really add to the tension, but it’s the emotional finale that will really send a lump down the throat – an underrated horror classic.
Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)
A companion piece to the Devil’s Backbone, Pan’s Labyrinth follows Ofelia, a young girl uprooted to a remote military outpost commanded by her new stepfather, a sadistic general in Franco’s army during the harsh realities of the Civil War.
Powerless and lonely, Ofelia discovers a neglected labyrinth behind the family home. Meeting Pan, a fantastical creature who challenges her with three tasks, which he claims will reveal her true identity as a princess, she lives out her own dark fable, confronting monsters both otherworldly and human, hoping to finally meet her real father, the King…
Without doubt, a fairytale for grown-ups, Pan’s Labyrinth steals cheekily from all those before it – whether it be Sergi Lopez playing the big bad wolf in the shape of Ofelia’s stepfather, the housekeeper’s fairy godmother, the movie’s haunted forests and rural setting, or its nods to other classics such as The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe and The Wizard Of Oz.
Only, there are more than just devilish sprites, cheeky fauns and twisted witches on offer here. In fact, the real terror comes from the real world rather than that of Ofelia’s imagination – a place so violent and bleak it’s no wonder she so gratefully accepts the three challenges in order to prove her royal status.
The true monster is the sadistic general as he tries to stamp out the left-wing using whatever means necessary, revelling in scenes that are extremely difficult to watch as Del Toro charts the evil that men can do with look-away precision.
The scene stealer, however, is pure fantasy. One of the greatest ever horror scenes occurs when Ofelia is confronted by the Pale Man, a hideous monster with no eyes catching his beauty sleep until she awakens him by foolishly stealing some of his food. Timing is everything here. Even though the viewer knows it’s coming, they don't know when. Yet, even then, as the creature finally jerks into life, reaching for his eyes before inserting them into the palms of his hands, they still won’t be prepared for the nerve-shredding chase through the corridors that follows.
Del Toro refuses, once again, to go overboard with CGI, and the horror is more terrifying for it. Dark, delightful, bleak and beautiful, all at the same time, Pan’s Labyrinth manages to merge the horrors of real life into the fantastical world of imagination, leaving Ofelia, and the viewer, with no preferable place to hide.
Crafting some of horror’s most imaginative and terrifying works, Guillermo Del Toro manages to combine fantasy and supernatural dread with political commentary in a way nobody else can. A fantastic collection – one that truly delivers the goods. DW
Film: Guillermo Del Toro
Release date: 25th October 2010
Certificate: 18
Running time: 313 mins
Director: Guillermo Del Toro
Starring: Federico Luppi, Ron Perlman, Marisa Paredes, Eduardo Noriega, Ivana Baquero
Genre: Comedy/Drama/Fantasy/Horror/Mystery/Thriller/War
Studio: Optimum
Format: Blu-ray
Country: Mexico/Spain/USA
Covering the three most critically acclaimed of his works, this Guillermo Del Toro box set takes us from his directorial debut in the 20th century, through to his most recent pieces of the 21st. Each film carries and emphasises the hallmarks of what has made Del Toro one of the most popular, and followed directors of the modern era, with his self-confessed fetish for all things peculiar, haunting, mysterious and a painstaking attention to detail.
Cronos (1993)
Jesús, an elderly antique dealer living in Mexico with his granddaughter, Aurora, stumbles across a discovery in the base of a newly delivered statue: a golden scarab-shaped device. While attempting to uncover the secrets and history to this unknown item, it unfurls legs, to fully mimic a beetle, and without warning attaches itself to Jesús.
When the Cronos device eventually releases itself, Jesús finds that his health has improved drastically, he feels vigorous and full of vitality. With extended research, he identifies and dates the contraption back to a 16th century alchemist, who claimed it could gift immortality to anyone that used it. Unfortunately for Jesús and his family, the device’s existence is not exclusive to them - a band of American criminals are in search of it for their employer and dying businessman, Dieter de la Guardia.
Led by his violent nephew, Angel, the two factions come to loggerheads as they demand its possession and will stoop to any means to obtain it. However, this is the least of Jesús’ worries, as he slowly begins to discover that the cost for the eternal life is an extreme aversion to sunlight and a more disturbing need for human blood…
Del Toro’s debut is a startling affair that positions itself firmly in the horror genre, yet does so with great warmth and affection. Less associated with slashers and more with the psychological torment of films like The Shining, Cronos doesn’t offer formulaic scares, but proves to be frightening as a deeply unsettling study and deconstruction of our own humanity and mortality.
What is truly the emotional coup de grâce, and proves to be the cornerstone of its very success, is Del Toro’s focus on the human side of the story. Del Toro is equally as concerned by how the Cronos device is affecting Jesús, as he is with how this affect on Jesús is damaging his relationship with his granddaughter, whom he loves dearly. The director manages to show the young child as not someone who is naïve to the circumstances around her, but as a young woman who is very aware of the happenings in her life, yet still remains deeply loyal and devoted to her grandfather.
Cronos is a disconcerting experience, which harbours the very essence of what makes a horror film successful, yet, at its heart, remains an identifiable human tale; a gripping drama about a loving family in turmoil that once it has grabbed hold of you proves very difficult to shake off.
The Devil’s Backbone (2001)
Written while he was in college, Guillermo Del Toro’s The Devil’s Backbone is a dark gothic thriller set amidst the backdrop of the last days of the bloody Spanish Civil War.
Carlos, a young boy, is left at an orphanage on the outskirts of a remote village, awaiting the return of his Republican father from the conflict. Run by two elderly administrators and a couple of additional assistants who initially befriend Carlos, his life there begins to suffer, as not only does he find himself bullied by the other boys but by a malicious spectre that haunts the buildings decaying hallways.
As Carlos slowly awakens to the possibility that he may be a permanent resident, the orphans slowly come together, sharing resources and discussing the nature of this ghost, which many have either heard of or seen. It is concluded the apparition is that of a boy named Santi, who used to live at the orphanage before disappearing on the same night a bomb dropped in the forecourt.
The boys must work out who they can trust and find out the mysteries to the ghost of Santi and the undetonated bomb, which resonates as a constant reminder to the violent war that surrounds them...
Cited as Del Toro’s most personal work, The Devil’s Backbone builds on the themes and styles that garnered him such a reputation. The director skilfully weaves together the moments of dread, with an appreciation for suspense, and dramatic tension that would have impressed Hitchcock. He alerts the audience to the idea that something is amiss, and that something disturbing may be about to happen, but drip feeds the dread into our subconscious, proving to be a clinically arresting experience.
Del Toro makes expert use of his decrepit sets, taking the boys into dark alcoves, narrow corridors, enclosed rooms and skin-crawling situations but, as with Cronos, tempers the consternation with a great sadness. He reveals the trials and tribulations of the orphanage through the eyes of a young boy who is experiencing these events with little understanding of why.
As with Cronos, Del Toro’s true flair doesn’t come from lavish cinematographic landscapes, but from a simple, affecting and ultimately gut-wrenching emotional pull that is the human aspect of his creations.
Yes, The Devil’s Backbone is the chilling tale of a horror mystery, but alternatively it is an upsetting portrayal of a child, and childhood, amidst the atrocities and fallout of war.
Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)
Once again, written and directed by Guillermo Del Toro, Pan’s Labyrinth is the spiritual companion piece to The Devil’s Backbone.
Set five years after the Spanish Civil War, a young girl named Ofelia and her pregnant mother arrive at the encampment of their military stepfather and husband, respectively.
Captain Vidal is a fascist charged with the eradication of Spanish Marquis guerrillas that are scattered through the area, and has little time for either Ofelia nor her mother, merely concerning himself with the imminent birth of his son who would become his heir apparent.
Ofelia’s pregnant mother, Carmen, is severely ill with her condition worsening, and with Ofelia feeling trapped and scared that she may be left alone with her stepfather, she delves deeper into her reading of fantasy stories to escape the harsh realities around her. Then, one evening, a fairy visits her and guides her to a labyrinth behind the house in which they are all staying. At the heart of this labyrinth is a faun who challenges her to complete three tasks, which if completed before the night of the full moon will result in her true identity being revealed...
An event, which had taken years to achieve, and had Del Toro carrying around a notebook which was filled with “doodles, ideas, drawings and plot bits,” Pan’s Labyrinth is widely regarded as the director’s magnum opus. Filled with fantastical imagery influenced by everything from Alice In Wonderland to the art of Francisco Goya, Pan’s Labyrinth is in itself a complex serpentine trail of symbolism that tackles the grim realities of war, while balancing that with fairytale creativity and a serious contemplation on religious death and rebirth.
Del Toro’s imagination is at its most poignant and powerful in Pan’s Labyrinth, with scenes and constructs that live long in the memory. Yet despite these whimsical and engaging distractions, the director once again focuses on the plight of the individual.
As the film progresses into darker more disturbing territory, the fantasy begins to give way to the harsh realities of the world in which Ofelia has to inhabit, and it is her reluctance to become a part of that world and her fear of such an existence that is the crux which binds all the elements together.
On repeated viewings there is an immense array of iconography and parabolic information that can be dissected, yet it is the emotional attachment, the sympathy and empathy, we develop with Ofelia that moves us, and, as always, Del Toro does so in such a subtle and masterful way.
An impressive array of cinema for which the Del Toro undertook the writing, directing and production for all three - perhaps giving us the most accurate and insightful look into his creative thought process, which, like many of his films, is deeply personal. For those wishing to delve further into the mind of one of Mexico’s finest, a little nod to the etymology of the names he chooses for his characters will not only heighten the experience but make you respect his absolute dedication to his works even more. BL
