Usually I’m the one dragging my poor teenagers to see some foreign language film, but this time it was the other way around, and I’m glad they did. This movie breaks all language barriers and is, to me, a perfect example of fantasy done completely right.

Pan’s Labyrinth is set in chaotic, war torn 1944 Spain. It’s an unlikely, and ultimately perfect, blend of fantasy and reality. Centering on the plight of Ofelia, a young girl on the cusp of womanhood, this tale weaves a dual reality with adventure and magic on both sides of the coin. In this world, she’s the daughter of a tailor killed in the war, and her mother has wed a cruel military Captain out of desperation and misguided hope. Brought by this step-father to a new home in the country, they await the birth of his son, Ofelia’s half-brother. It’s here that Ofelia finds the portal to another reality, one in which she is the soul of the lost princess of the underworld, a place of magic and legend which awaits her return.

Despite how it sounds, this is not a children’s movie, nor is it a happy one. It depicts very realistic war violence and torture, none of which is gratuitous — to this story it is unfortunately necessary. It’s rated R and deserves it. I would strongly discourage anyone taking kids under 14 to see it.

I would discourage squeamish adults from seeing it, as well.

The most amazing thing to me about this movie is that it actually works. Guillermo del Toro, the film’s director, deserves every accolade he receives for this film, because he did an amazing job. Flipping between guerilla warfare and meetings with fantastic creatures, between scenes of military torture and confrontations with horrid monsters, it all makes sense. There’s not a stumble in the entire movie.

The complaint I’ve had about contemporary fantasy is that it is stagnating in its own conventions. Here is an example of how it can run fresh and wild, like something entirely new.

Bravo to the director and the screen writer. Bravo to the cast and crew. You did it right.

So there I was at the book store, and low and behold, I found a Philip K. Dick book I have never read.

This was one excited SF fanatic. I thought I’d read all of Dick’s works, every one of them, but I had never heard of this one: Cantata-140

I bought it immediately, brought it home, and started thumbing through it.

Three pages into it, I developed a strong sense of Deja-vu. By the second chapter I knew I had read it before. Somewhere. But I know I’d never seen this title.

So I go to Google. Low and behold, I have read it before. A long time ago, under a different title: The Crack In Space.

Bastards.

I feel ripped off.

Not merely because the book was retitled and re-released without it saying inside anything at all about the original title, but because I had been so excited to read something new from poor old Phil Dick… poor muddled and crazy and brilliant Phil. I remembered the glee at discovering each new gem during my long hunt to get every single thing he wrote. I remember how happy I was to read Radio Free Albemuth. Here I was ready to experience that again, all these years later.

But, no!

No, here’s just a reprint of something from 1966, repackaged with some fancy artwork that has nothing to do with the story … and to top it off, a reprint of one of Phil’s lesser novels. The Crack In Space is not one of his best. It lacks the craziness, the weirdness, and the double-heaping paranoia that made so many of his other works fun to read.

So up on the shelves it goes.