🎥 In Review: Guillermo del Toro

This week, the Mostly Film crew dives deep into the beating heart of Guillermo del Toro’s Spanish masterpieces — The Devil’s Backbone and Pan’s Labyrinth. It’s a journey through haunted orphanages, fascist nightmares, and the fragile courage of children who see truth where adults see only power.

🩻 The Body: Building the Monster
We trace del Toro’s evolution from Mimic’s heartbreak to his creative rebirth in Spain. The Devil’s Backbone sets the stage — a ghost story framed by war, where the bomb in the courtyard is as much a symbol as it is a relic. Then comes Pan’s Labyrinth, its spiritual sequel, blending fairy tale and fascism into a seamless vision. We unpack the craftsmanship behind these films — from Guillermo Navarro’s glowing cinematography to del Toro’s camera that moves like memory itself.

💀 The Soul: What the Monster Means
For del Toro, monsters are moral mirrors. In The Devil’s Backbone, ghosts linger not for revenge but remembrance — “a tragedy doomed to repeat itself.” In Pan’s Labyrinth, the monsters of fantasy are merciful compared to those of reality. Ofelia’s rebellion becomes a prayer for imagination, for empathy, for survival. We talk Catholic humanism, compassion over dogma, and how del Toro finds holiness in the heart of horror.

👣 The Legacy: Footprints in the Dark
These two films didn’t just shape del Toro’s career — they defined his cinematic theology. The Devil’s Backbone earned him critical credibility, Pan’s Labyrinth earned him Oscars, and together they crystallized his belief that “fantasy is not an escape — it’s a way to understand reality.” Their influence echoes through Crimson Peak, The Shape of Water, and the growing field of “Spanish Civil War Gothic.”

From haunted courtyards to labyrinths of the soul, we explore how del Toro’s monsters teach us to see — not what’s hiding in the dark, but what’s been there all along.