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life inside a toy box,
This review is from: Hansel And Gretel [DVD] (DVD)
It is disturbing and immensely beautiful, with every scene a painting come to life, much in its own way as Death in Venice, and I don't think anyone could escape being caught in wonderland. Like any good film, it touches the heart and finds it searching for places and gaps memories and tomorrows it never knew it was searching for before.
It could be in the mind of a child on the brink of sleep, that is so frightening tender, so scratching against winter window, poor and threadbare, that contrasts with the film's richness of candy and cakes and eternal Christmas trees and presents under them, heavy snow forever more, an exquisitely created dream of a house of jolly elf coated nightmares and furnishings and frenetic parents who try to recapture something they hope is in you, at the same time you realize they're hiding something so unspeakably terrifying and that is when you begin to know you are the bulwark of this hideous thing and you must please.
As you feel this artificial glowing inside yourself turned into a hollow thing that leaves you stranded and alone, just as you think young forever, then close to the child almost the moment of clarity, and you fall asleep and wake to the fever of Christmas morning.
The earlier front cover of the DVD case has a picture of the children on the couch, looking so solemn and forlorn. The words above them read: Don't go. We'll be good. And they try and they are really the needed, finally the sacrifice comes in the sadness you feel when you realize for the first time you are indeed grown up but inside you is for always the corpse of the child who was once you.
In the frightening fairytale woods all around this home of happy children, supervised by adults of a certain nervous condition. And when the thieves arrive in the deepest pure snowfall, the snow on their lovely hair, their wealthy clothing, the very eye colors and tint of gray in the man's hair, their fragile looking glasslike beautiful faces, welcome to representatives of the world that no wicked witch could conjure.
The opening ancient drawings of Hansel and Gretel, how quaking in horror they are, as if skin is made of oatmeal, and is pulling apart from the sheer shudder of utter terror.
Those ancient drawings seemed to say behind a fear is the fear of themselves. Like it was no old woman to bake them in the oven, or grandmother is not really a Wolf in disguise. It's them, my impressions of drawings themselves as certain gibbering qualities to the film you never get over.
This is a fairytale for sure, looks and feels like one, the ultimate gingerbread cottage, massive amounts of toys and candy food and the razor edge blood red roses with the most blood red hue imaginable.
The ultimate warning is this: believe in magic at your peril. As it protects, comes a price indeed. Adults hide in endless attic, but not for long in this woods of twisted.
And if you are brave enough to go through the door appearing out of thin air, where the secrets are kept, and in the darkness, one of the children says hello, don't turn your lighter on, consider first, as does this grand film. The film makes one remember with dread anew the reading of a fairy tale in a dark summer night room of long ago. The last time we see the children in the movie makes me think: Don't go, we'll be good.