Tuesday, June 23, 2015

The Road Less Traveled: Comparing "The Wizard of Oz" and "Labyrinth"

The fantasy genre of film is an extensive library of amazing stories and dynamic worlds built of dragons and danger, wizards and war, helplessness and hope. These movies have appealed to audiences from the earliest days of film, and thanks to advances in special effects, they have been entrancing audiences since humanity took a A Trip to the Moon in 1902 courtesy of Georges Melies. The genre has come far since then, and many films throughout the years have achieved similar notoriety. Of these classics, two films stand out for their technical innovations, shared themes, and pop culture status. Both movies involve a young woman’s journey of self-discovery through a fantasy land full of memorable characters who help the hero along the way. And though they are commonly categorized as “kid’s movies,” they both carry very adult themest. In viewing the details of these films one may ask: what is the underlying journey of the main character? How does the setting give us information about these characters and their inner growth? How are color and screen elements used to emphasize these points? The answers to these questions will reveal a hidden complexity to both Jim Henson’s 1986 film Labyrinth and Victor Fleming’s 1939 classic The Wizard of Oz.
Labyrinth was produced by The Jim Henson Company and released by Tristar Pictures. The screenplay was written by Terry Jones based on a story from Dennis Lee and Jim Henson, who had first discussed the film with artist Brian Froud; other story contributors include George Lucas and Laura Phillips. While The Jim Henson Company was known for the bright and colorful worlds of Sesame Street and the Muppets, the studio had found success with The Dark Crystal and was interested in another foray into darker territory. Labyrinth is the story of a young girl who must rescue her baby brother from a goblin king at the center of a labyrinth. Sarah Williams, played by Jennifer Connelly, is an angsty teenager who is unhappy with babysitting her brother Toby. In a moment of frustration she wishes for goblins to take him away; unbeknownst to Sarah, goblins are real and listening to her words, and they immediately grant her wish. Jareth the Goblin King arrives and takes Sarah to his labyrinth, where he gives her thirteen hours to get to the center and find Toby or he will turn into a goblin. Encountering strange creatures and fantastic obstacles, Sarah makes her way through the maze to save her brother, and in the process she learns more about herself and what’s really important. The film contains elements inspired from a number of sources. The ending scenes were inspired by M.C. Escher’s work “Relativity,” while the story contains several elements of Maurice Sendak’s Outside Over There; though no specific credit was given, a title appears in the end credits which states “Jim Henson acknowledges his debt to the works of Maurice Sendak.” The film is also notable for its technical achievements: the scenes in the goblin city required sets with holes for puppeteers and other performers to work through, and the the puppets themselves required creative solutions in order to function at the level of ‘realness’ required for the production. After Henson cast David Bowie as Jareth, the script and story required rewrites to incorporate musical elements contributed by Bowie. The film was not a commercial success at the theater, and it failed to impress many professional critics. In his 1986 review, Roger Ebert said, “The movie is an impressive production that is often good to look at. Some real thought went into it and the David Bowie soundtrack is fine, yet there's something missing. It never really comes alive.” (Ebert, RogerEbert.com) However, Trespass Magazine’s Glenn Dunks expressed positive sentiments for the 80’s classic, recommending it as a good family film with positive moral lessons for children. (Dunks, Trespass Magazine) While it didn’t go far on its initial run at the box office, Labyrinth is now considered a childhood cult classic among similar films such as Ridley Scott’s Legend and Wolfgang Peterson’s The Neverending Story. Meanwhile, MGM’s The Wizard of Oz, was released to great acclaim. Adapted from the works of L. Frank Baum in a screenplay by Noel Langley, Florence Ryerson and Edgar Allan Woolf, the film follows a young woman who must find her way home from a magical land. Judy Garland’s Dorothy Gale is a big-dreaming Kansas native who finds herself in the Land of Oz after a tornado blows through her farm and drops Dorothy (and her house) in Munchkinland. Unfortunately the house also dropped on the Wicked Witch of the East, and her sister (the Wicked Witch of the West) swears revenge on Dorothy. Fortunately Dorothy is equipped with the ruby slippers, a pair of shoes with magical properties, by Glinda the Witch of the North. Glinda sends Dorothy on a journey down the Yellow Brick Road to the Emerald City, home of the great and powerful Wizard of Oz, who may have the ability to return Dorothy to Kansas. Dorothy meets new friends and terrifying enemies as she tries to get home and discovers she has more power than she realizes. The film was a smash with critics and audiences alike, winning the Academy Awards for Best Song and Best Original Music Score. Many critics compared it to Walt Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs due to its bright colors and fantasy elements. Frank S. Nugent’s 1939 review for The New York Times found that “Not since Disney’s ‘Snow White’ has anything so fantastic succeeded half so well…. It is all so well-intentioned, so genial and so gay that any reviewer who would look down his nose at the fun-making should be spanked and sent off, supperless, to bed.” (Nugent, New York Times) Joshua Starnes of ComingSoon.Net noted that the lands of Oz are so believable thanks to the details that create a lush, visually-dynamic landscape. (Starnes, ComingSoon.Net) That landscape became very familiar to generations of children as The Wizard of Oz was continually re-released in theaters; it later transitioned to television as an annual event shown during the holiday season, continuing to awe audiences and critics alike. In addition to audience and critical love, it was also a technical achievement: Dorothy’s shoes, silver in the original Frank L. Baum novel, were changed to ruby in order to emphasize the new color palette made possible by Technicolor. While the Technicolor marvel is certainly a classic, it was not without its share of production problems. Buddy Epsen was the original choice for the Tin Man but was forced to leave the production after inhaling the aluminum powder applied daily as part of the character’s makeup and was replaced by Jack Haley. His co-star Margaret Hamilton, who played the Wicked Witch of the West, had her face and hands burned during an on-set stunt and was hospitalized for six weeks, and director Victor Fleming was replaced by King Vidor before filming was completed, after Fleming was hired to complete Gone with the Wind. On the surface, these films appear to be very simple in plot as our young heroines make their ways down magical roads with varying companions in hopes of achieving a goal. However, there are small details in their first minutes that, when noticed, transform our knowledge of these films and reveal that both Sarah and Dorothy are motherless children trying to cope with their grief in two very different ways, and their adventures down the roads less traveled by are parallel paths on journeys of self-discovery. Let’s start with a look at both characters to know them better. At the beginning of Labyrinth, Sarah is in a park with her dog Merlin and acting out a book, The Labyrinth, when it starts to rain. Sarah and the dog go home, getting soaked en route. Sarah’s stepmother meets her on the porch and orders Merlin into the garage while Sarah charges inside, teenage angst in full swing as she exhibits very dramatic behavior to her stepmother before going upstairs to her room; Sarah comes across as bratty and nearly unlikeable. When we join Sarah in her bedroom, we are introduced to her personal space and given a look at what she values most. In a revealing panning shot across her possessions, we see a pink and orange plush creature, a fox with a red bandana and eye patch, a labyrinth game, a statue of a girl inside a music box, a goblin bookend, and copies of Disney’s Snow White, Grimm and Andersen fairy tales, works by Maurice Sendak and, fittingly, The Wizard of Oz. The shot ends with Sarah gazing into her mirror, crown on her head, with a statue next to her mirror and M.C. Escher’s “Relativity” on the wall next to her bed; later, when her father is speaking to her, there is another stuffed animal on the dresser. Back in Oz, Dorothy’s contrasting behavior is sweet and charming in her alarm over her neighbor Miss Gulch’s threat to take her dog Toto away for biting her. She unsuccessfully attempts to tell her Auntie Em, Uncle Henry and farmhands Hunk, Hickory and Zeke of the incident but is rebuffed. In a bit of foreshadowing, Hunk tells Dorothy that she doesn’t have any brains, and Zeke tells her to “have a little courage.” Dorothy falls into a pigpen and is saved by her three friends before her aunt tells her to find somewhere where there isn’t any trouble. It’s at this point in both stories that the underlying messages of the films become clear, as do the parallels between the protagonists. During the panning shot of Sarah’s possessions, we also see a scrapbook whose contents reveal Sarah’s struggle. It is open to a page with pictures and newspaper clippings of her mother Linda, as well as a playbill with Linda’s picture on the front of it. This is an indicator that Sarah is still feeling grief at the loss of her mother, and her attachment to make-believe and the theater is a way of connecting with (and hanging on to) her mother. Her issues with her stepmother are really unexpressed grief and anger over her mother’s passing. Back in Kansas, Dorothy is alone next to a haystack dreaming of a place without trouble and begins to sing her famous song “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” and like Sarah’s scrapbook, it gives us information about Dorothy’s feelings. The opening verse contains the following lyrics: “Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high, there’s a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby.” At the end of the line, Dorothy looks up at the sky and briefly smiles before continuing her song. Lullabies are mostly heard from mothers in early childhood, and Dorothy’s orphan status combined with her upward smile infer an acknowledgment of her mother’s inspiration for the land in her imagination. Later in the song there is a shot of a sun break in the clouds with singing birds followed by Dorothy looking up at it longingly, perhaps a sign of her longing for her mother. These inclusions may have been inspired by the following passage of Baum’s The Emerald City of Oz: “As for Uncle Henry, he thought his little niece merely a dreamer, as her dead mother had been…” (page 204, 15 Books in 1, L. Frank Baum.) Dorothy’s dream of a place “somewhere over the rainbow” is really a dream of being reunited with her family. The sequences that follow are when we meet the antagonists of both films. Miss Gulch arrives on her bicycle to take Toto from Dorothy, and Dorothy calls her a “wicked old witch.” Dorothy runs away and meets Professor Marvel, a man posing as a fortune-teller who gives her fake news from the farm as he gazes into a crystal ball, causing her to return home. As in Labyrinth, a storm arrives in the form of an approaching tornado, and Dorothy arrives home too late to join her family in the storm cellar, so she takes refuge in the house. The twister sends debris through her window and Dorothy is knocked unconscious. This sequence is double-exposed in a dream-like shot superimposed over her house spinning up into the tornado; when she comes to, we see a montage of others within the storm, including Miss Gulch with her bike, which transitions to a witch cackling on a broomstick. This is the beginning of another recurring motif of both films: mirroring characters between both worlds. In Labyrinth, Sarah’s parents leave and she babysits her brother, who begins to cry. Sarah tells him a fairy tale about goblins and we see sleeping goblins wake up and listen to her story; the camera placement on the goblins implies that they live within the mirror. Sarah reaches the end and the goblins await the magic words needed to take Toby, but Sarah says something else and the goblins are disappointed. But when Sarah puts Toby in his crib and makes to leave, she unknowingly utters the spell and Toby’s cries end immediately. Checking on him, she finds his crib empty, and the window bursts open to reveal an owl that transforms into Jareth the Goblin King. Jareth’s clothes match those of the statue next to Sarah’s mirror from the aforementioned panning shot, echoing Miss Gulch’s transition into the witch on a broom. These are only the first examples of the mirror theme. Dorothy’s Kansas farm hands Hunk, Hickory and Zeke respectively become Dorothy’s companions in the Scarecrow, Tin Man and Cowardly Lion of Oz, while Professor Marvel becomes the Wizard and a variety of Oz citizens. Labyrinth uses the same technique: the possessions shown in the panning shot of Sarah’s room become elements of her journey as she is transported to a labyrinth like the game she possesses, the goblin bookend becomes Hoggle, the stuffed animal on her dresser becomes Ludo, and Sir Didymus is inspired by the fox with the eyepatch. Hoggle is the first creature that Sarah meets in the labyrinth, urinating into a pond and setting a tone of crudeness that is in direct contrast to The Wizard of Oz’s modesty. Hoggle is a cantankerous goblin, spraying fairies outside the labyrinth walls and avoiding Sarah’s questions of its entrance, though he eventually helps her and goes off on his own. He reappears throughout the film, alternating between friend and foe as he both rescues her from Jareth’s latest obstacle and also puts her in harm’s way. Hoggle is both the first companion encountered, like the Scarecrow of Oz, yet is fearful and intimidated like the Cowardly Lion, giving Hoggle a dual comparing/contrasting role to both of those characters. Hoggle is very selfish in contrast to the Scarecrow’s selflessness, thinking only of himself at the beginning of Sarah’s journey but eventually working towards the group effort to reach the Goblin City, whereas the Scarecrow is very kind and protective of Dorothy. The Scarecrow is introduced via a musical number in which he describes needing a brain, and not being very smart; however, by the end of the film it is the Scarecrow who devises the plan to rescue Dorothy from the Wicked Witch’s castle, showing ingenuity and strategic thinking. The Scarecrow is a metaphor for intelligence, a visual aid for Dorothy as she transitions into adulthood. He is a sign that she needs to think more and avoid taking things for granted or as the truth, such as Professor Marvel’s psychic visions. Sarah and Hoggle escape the tunnels and emerge in a section of the labyrinth very different from where Sarah was when she went through the door to the oubliette. It has ivy and a garden quality to it that compares to the forest where Dorothy encounters the Tin Man. The sky is also blue and it seems like a much more idyllic place. Sarah takes Hoggle’s bracelet and refuses to give it back, and Hoggle says it’s not fair. Sarah shows a sign of maturity when she says, “No, it isn’t...but that’s the way it is.” It’s a metaphor for life not being fair, and the setting has changed because Sarah is starting to grow up. The second companion of Dorothy’s journey is the Tin Man, who is introduced en route to the Emerald City. He is found by Dorothy and the Scarecrow and, over the course of his musical number, reveals that the Tinsman forgot to make him his heart. Despite this, the Tin Man is kind and emotional, breaking into tears on two occasions, which goes against his heartless nature. The Tin Man is the second Oz resident met by Dorothy on her road to Oz and represents her kindly instincts as well as serves a reminder to care about people. In the labyrinth, Ludo is a big goblin whose introduction takes place upside down: he is suspended in a tree and being attacked by guard goblins. Sarah frees him and he joins her on her way to the goblin city. Ludo, like the Tin Man, is very kind and caring; he’s also very protective of Sarah, using his roar to call forth rolling rocks that dispatch their enemies with ease. Ludo is represented in Sarah’s room as the stuffed animal near her bedroom door when her father is asking her to babysit, with a personality to match. He is Sarah’s most caring companion, a worthy representation for a squishy stuffed animal. At the bridge to the Goblin City, Ludo is beseiged by the fox who guards it, Sir Didymus. He is small in stature (as most foxes are) and rides his noble steed Ambrosius, a dog who looks remarkably like Sarah’s dog Merlin. Sir Didymus is very brave and valiant, quick to attack a foe and defend his honor, as well as that of his friends. He is also the third creature to join Sarah in the labyrinth, a distinction that also belongs to the Cowardly Lion on Dorothy’s journey through Oz. The obvious comparison between the two is that the two of them are animals, but while the Lion seems cowardly, he is actually quite brave. He makes the journey to the Emerald City, the Wizard’s chamber and the Wicked Witch’s castle without turning back, showing that he is as brave as Sir Didymus. These two characters are yet another example of the ongoing use of mirrors as a storytelling device. Glinda is the one exception to this motif of mirroring. Of all the main characters in Oz, Glinda alone has no Kansas counterpart. The reason for this is as subtle as Dorothy’s backstory: Glinda is a representation of Dorothy’s mother, protecting Dorothy on her journey from afar, shown explicitly during the poppy field scene where an enchanted Dorothy is awakened by an angelic Glinda’s snowfall. It is Glinda who ensures Dorothy obtains the ruby slippers, styled as adult heels, representing Dorothy’s transition into womanhood and literally stepping into her mother’s shoes. In the end, she reveals that for Dorothy to get home, she must click her heels three times. It’s an interesting coincidence that this is the same number of times Glinda appears in the film, creating a subtle connection between Glinda and ‘home.’ The plots of both films, good-natured as they are, can seem unsatisfactory at times: The Wizard of Oz is supposed to get Dorothy home but sends her to the Wicked Witch’s castle instead, while the random inclusion of certain Labyrinth goblins can drag the plot. Having said that, I'll now throw some hardcore story structure at you and mention that Aristotle’s Poetics tells us that unsatisfactory plots are usually “‘episodic,’ in which the episodes or acts succeed one another without probable or necessary sequence,” meaning their only connection is the person they are happening to." The Wizard of Oz and Labyrinth both seem episodic but are, in fact, Aristotelian (yay, fancy word), because the supporting characters are tied to the main plots from their beginnings. Having said that, the ruby slippers can be considered a deus ex machina, coming out of nowhere to send Dorothy home. They are assigned a heavy value throughout the film (Dorothy is warned not to take them off, the Wicked Witch cannot remove them from her feet) but despite their importance (and color), there is nothing throughout the plot to suggest they are capable of sending Dorothy home. Instead, hope for a return to Kansas lies with the Wizard, not the slippers. The visual styles of both films are very painterly and surrealistic, thanks to their fantasy origin and high production values. In a good use of contrasting elements, The Wizard of Oz goes from sepia in Kansas to full Technicolor in Oz; Labyrinth goes from a colorful real world to a sepia(ish)-Labyrinth. The cleanliness and look of the roads themselves are also different: the labyrinth is full of leaves and branches, it’s quite a messy place compared to the Yellow Brick Road. There are a number of dead trees and you could even expect a tumbleweed to blow past Sarah; it rather feels like Kansas in The Wizard of Oz. The labyrinth is, by nature of a maze, confined and claustrophobic to symbolize how the walls are closing in around Sarah, not only in terms of rescuing her brother, but also because the maze of childhood fantasy she’s built for herself must come down for her to embrace maturity and eventually motherhood. Sarah’s brother Toby, the baby in peril, represents these aspects, while Jareth and his behavior represents the unwanted advances made by men at the naive and unprepared Sarah. Meanwhile the Yellow Brick road is bright and clean, with lovely green fields and blue skies to complete the color palette and give a feeling of hope and happiness to Dorothy’s journey. Color plays a vital role to The Wizard of Oz. With Dorothy ready to accept her mother’s passing and move on to adulthood, she is given the ruby slippers. Red symbolizes power, which Dorothy is severely lacking as demonstrated by her aunt and uncle’s reaction to her story about Miss Gulch. Her pinafore is a pale blue and is a metaphor for her weak personality, so the red shoes (adult shoes for a little girl) give her strength. The Yellow Brick Road symbolizes happiness and caution, meaning that Dorothy should exercise caution on her road to happiness (and not be so naive as to trust strangers like Professor Marvel/the Wizard). The Wicked Witch’s green skin is repellant, like poison, but the Emerald City is more like a jewel and feels safer. Additionally, The Wizard of Oz has wide sweeping shots that feel very fluid, and there are long takes with limited angles on many scenes. Likewise, the land of Oz is wide and open, with few walls or barriers, and the Yellow Brick Road is round with no angles to symbolize the possibilities of Dorothy’s life. Meanwhile the Labyrinth has a quick editing style, with short takes on scenes across various angles. Both films use chronological editing to tell their stories, without the use of flashbacks. The films share a connection in that they are both musicals, though in very different styles. The Wizard of Oz has a more classical soundscape with as opposed to the rock-and-rolling Labyrinth. The difference between the two is that Oz’s songs give exposition and motivation for the characters singing them, where the songs of Labyrinth are confusing and require repeated reviews in order to comprehend them where possible. The Wizard of Oz also sounds better: there is always an underlying tone, whether music or plain room noise, and the dialogue is mixed well with the soundtrack and sound effects. There are a few scenes in Labyrinth where the audio sync is off from the lips and it doesn’t match; also, the scene where Sarah’s stepmother confronts her at the beginning is missing room tone and it takes you out of the film in those moments, leading to a strain on the suspension of disbelief. (The effects used for the Fire Gang scene is equally offensive in its obvious existence of black matte lines around Sarah and the puppets.) The antagonists of both films share the theme of using crystal balls to look in on the main character. Jareth uses the crystal ball to watch Sarah in the oubliette (a place you put people to forget about them) while the Wicked Witch looks at Dorothy on her way through Oz; later in the film, a captured Dorothy sees her Auntie Em in the crystal ball. This shows both similarities and differences between the films: Jareth’s scene represents a desire to forget about Sarah, a metaphor for one of Sarah’s options for her mother, while Dorothy’s viewing of Auntie Em represents her steadfast desire to see her family again and go home, because home is where the heart is. (Hearts are also red and family ties relate to blood, the same color as Dorothy's shoes.) In watching these films I learned that they’re about much deeper ideas than I’d previously known, and wasn’t expecting. There is one thing that I haven’t learned yet, though: where does the red brick road go?

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