Photos courtesy of the SCAD Cinema Circle Facebook page
We’re doing things a little different this time.
Usually I search for poorly rated movies to watch on Netflix, and judge whether I love or hate them. But last Friday, I went to the Trustees Theater to watch the screening of Jim Henson’s “Labyrinth” starring the late and great David Bowie.
This is a movie I have seen before, so I knew what I was getting into. In fact, this is a movie I love. Jim Henson has been –and always will be– a hero to me. Point of fact: “Muppet Treasure Island” is my absolute favorite childhood film.
But I digress. I’m writing this for Bowie. I’ll admit, I wasn’t the man’s biggest fan while he was alive. Sure I listened to his music, but it hasn’t consciously affected me in the way that it has other people. But his role as Jareth in “Labyrinth” has left on impression on me since the first time I saw it. I feel that he, like Alan Rickman, deserves acknowledgement and respect.
So let’s talk about “Labyrinth.”
For you few who have yet to see this masterpiece, an annoying and imaginative 16-year-old girl named Sarah (Jennifer Connelly) calls for the Goblin King Jareth (Bowie) to take away her infant brother Toby (Toby Froud). Immediately realizing her mistake, Sarah accepts Jareth’s challenge to get her brother back by completing the labyrinth leading to the goblin city. With the help of some fantastic puppet friends of, Sarah treks through the dangerous labyrinth, and learns a thing or two about selflessness.
This movie is virtually flawless. Save for a few of the creepy moments involving the harmonizing, self-dismembering fire demons. Sure, the
“Hi, mom! I’m the little dark spot in the balcony!”
intro is kind of boring, but when you consider the fact that the owl was one of the first fully 3D animated animals ever, you have to give them some credit. And the bubble ballroom scene could have shaved off a minute or two, but all those costumes and the dancing were just so damn pretty.
Connelly did a phenomenal job playing Sarah. You just want to slap her spoiled, childish face when she gets mad about her missing teddy bear and blames the baby for all her troubles. It’s certainly a dramatic shift when she learns not to take things for granted, and trust that she doesn’t in fact know everything. The transition isn’t perfect, if anything it’s a bit abrupt. But it’s a good development, and worth watching for anybody at all stages in life. I know I learned something from her this time around.
But boy-oh-boy does Bowie kick ass. From the score, to the overly revealing grey tights and wig that looks like the ’80s furiously vomited all over it, he commands your attention from the very first second. His performance, while ethereal, is also palpable and captivating. Comedic timing? Check. Presence? Check. Charisma as lord and sovereign over puppet goblins made of little more than wire and green fabric? Double f****** check. I find this thing frustrating to write about because I can’t think of a single flaw. Maybe someday I will, but not while I’m still rolling around in the glittery afterglow.
The thing I admire most about Henson’s filmmaking is his ability to create fantastic worlds that are so full of life and detail they become real. As a hyper-imaginative kid overdosing on fairy tales, he spoke to my soul. Sitting in that theater and watching the goblins open their eyes at Sarah’s voice, it all came back. For that hour and 40 minutes I believed in fairies and magic and friendship with wide-eyed enthusiasm. Every time I watch a Henson film, it happens all over again. I fear that if I do it too often, I’ll yearn for a goblin kingdom of my own with more sincerity than I already do. And watching it on the big screen was an experience all together.
So, dear reader, if you haven’t seen “Labyrinth” yet, you have to. No excuses. Find a way.
To Jim Henson: I never met you, but I miss you dearly and I hope you found your own rainbow connection.
To David Bowie: long live the goblin king. Thank you both.
I leave you all with this video, and hope you find a little magic of your own. I know I’ll be holding onto mine for as long as I can.
