![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Va2Bpyc1EBOQNZeyAKVsEb6nkXPG9AaWM5Q7Mbuj77K4gMOubDyD6sUbQznGGgM_RPyG1w2Y7oKt2IvRwBSY9aFj6yEA10PCbGcTez3QbTUV6ImGBSLxGdBbCiVGmywA2-BaqFIFrQy3/s400/devilsbackbone.jpg)
Like Pan's Labyrinth, The Devil's Backbone is set during Spain's civil war in the late 1930s. Looming fascism in both films serves as a kind of specter haunting this corner of Europe, its brutal will always ready to exert itself even on children. But the orphanage of The Devil's Backbone withdraws for a time from the larger world and literally goes underground--and under water, to achieve effects that are at once chilling and beautiful. It's a ghost story, but one that rises to affect the political and personal worlds of the orphans, the left-wing Republicans (the side that Bogart fought with in his backstory in Casablanca--the losing side, as Louis noted) who run the orphanage, and the fascist Nationalists whose unexploded bomb in the orphanage's courtyard serves as a threat that cannot be withdrawn.
There's mystery and mysticism, politics and poetry, all of it mixed in without apologies. The Devil's Backbone may not be as aggressive as Pan's Labyrinth, but its subtleties make it the better Gothic, a world of secrets and regrets, with the strange justice ghosts so often require.
No comments:
Post a Comment