Mirror, Mirror

The dilemma, in my mind, of Mirrormask is deciding whether to embrace the fantastical world, telling the story as a fairy-tale, or to take the their approach, which is treat it as a dreamworld where the dreamer, in this case, artsy Helena, whose rebelling against her circus parents, is aware she's in a dream, and therefore unfazed by the imagery presented.

And what imagery indeed! Part Burton, part Gilliam, the world of Mirrormask features Chesire cats, flying books, balloon like giants, chimpanzee-like birds, robotic women singing "Just Like You", fishes swimming across the sky. Were films judged solely on its looks, Mirrormask would win hands down. Underneath the pretty looks is that the dreamworld represents two halves of herself, a light and dark side, and also, representations of her mother, as light and dark as well. Her journey is part Alice in Wonderland, and part, Ebenezer Scrooge, especially in the way she learns to judge her own actions ("don't go with him--he's awful!).

The Freudian worldview gives the visions some substance, and yet, it's easy to be distracted by the shimmering glow of Helena's dreams. Her travel companion, Valentine, seems oddly out of place. At once, part of the world, where all human-like inhabitants wear masks, and yet, cynical, joking, and not at all typical of this fantastical place.

The contrast between dreamworld and real world isn't particularly large, given the fantastical circus run by Helena's parents, where she serves as juggler. The real world amounts to the circus itself, and the large, dilapidated Guggenheim squarish spiral that is the apartment complex where Helena family lives. From an American perspective, setting the film in England makes Helena's real world seem as unreal, or at least foreign, as the one she eventually visits. It takes a while to fully engage in her wonderland, because Helena herself seems not terribly impressed by her imagination. Yet, the visuals eventually permeate the brain, even if the story doesn't always.

It's too bad that such visual fancy amounts to a simple fairy-tale lesson, which is to remember what mum told you, and to look hard at for what you're looking for. Still, if all lessons look this fabulous, then I'll eat my greens and brush my teeth.