Maze Review – Jim Henson and David Bowie create beguiling magic in a charming and whimsical 80s classic | film

RRevived for its 40th anniversary, this film is one of the most charming and quirky family films imaginable. Jim Henson’s fantasy adventure mixes human actors, unmistakably Hensonian puppet creatures, and a true legend that transcends either category: David Bowie as Jareth, the spiky-haired goblin king, who towers over the diminutive characters as if he were a guest at a puppet show. He plays this bizarre role with absolute commitment and great humour.

Labyrinth also features angelic teenager Jennifer Connelly as Sarah, a girl angry at being forced to babysit her baby half-brother Toby when her father and stepmother are out for the evening. In a fit of loneliness and rage, affected by a fairy tale she has been reading called The Labyrinth, and perhaps unable to process the psychological reasons for her resentment of baby Toby, Sarah makes a spiteful wish that the goblins will take the infant away. They do this, and Sarah is faced with a daunting task: she must somehow traverse the maze that surrounds Jareth’s castle and wrench the poor child from his horrific grasp.

The Labyrinth is clearly influenced by Lewis Carroll: Sarah has Alice-like encounters with vain, talkative creatures who tend to make elusive and enigmatic demands on her – and she falls weightlessly into holes. The film also takes a great deal from Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are, a book that is glimpsed at in an early scene, and Sendak is explicitly thanked in the credits. There’s a rather startling hallucination scene at the end in which Sarah confronts Gareth directly, which is taken from M.C. Escher. But watching again, perhaps we can see how the maze might have had a subconscious effect on someone else, an author who vaguely recorded some details: Along with the goblins there is an owl mysteriously flying around, and a certain goblin named Hoggle is misnamed “Hogwart.”

It’s a very analogue-era film with analogue storytelling and dialogue: it’s not driven by the same hyperactive, focused energy as modern Pixar/Disney films. The action often slows down and drags, and the dialogue, written by Terry Jones, has a sense of humor that is casually constructed but often very funny. A year later, Rob Reiner gave us The Princess Bride, which is comparable in some ways. But this is a completely unique and fun whim.