Labyrinth kinda helped me with the "Don't judge a book by it's cover" moral 'cause I watched Sarah being friendly and close to Hoggle, which to a little kid I percieved as 'ugly', but he's the one who's helping her.
Then when it comes to Jareth, to which I know would be considered attractive, (plus its David Bowie), I would consider attractive. But he's the bad guy, makes the labyrinth harder for Sarah which is unfair.
And the fact Sarah even wanted to give Hoggle a kiss for saving her life encouraged little me to "Yeah, be grateful when people help you, and ugly people are not always the bad guy."
And also the ballroom scene always made me so confused back then. I was like "Sarah no, he's the bad guy why are you dancing with him? Why is he stalking you like that and why is the music making it romantic? WHERE'S MY PRINCE CHARMING?!"
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I got the wonderful opportunity to see Labyrinth on the big screen last week (thank you Fathom Events) and I think this time around really helped me nail down one of the things that makes this movie so special to me: the ending message.
A story with a somewhat childish sixteen-year-old girl who immerses herself in magic and fantasy worlds who goes through a journey and a transformation and comes out the other side more mature could very easily have ended with the message of "Now that the adventure in the fantasy world is over, our heroine has grown and matured enough to leave magic and fantasy behind and become an Adult."
But Labyrinth doesn't do that.
Labyrinth says: "You might grow up a little. You might put away your costumes and your music box and your crown. You might give your teddy bear to your little brother. But that doesn't mean you have to leave it all behind. Every so often in your life, for no reason at all, you might need a little magic back in your life. And your friends in the fantasy world will always be there for you."
"Should you need them."
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In defense of a "Wicked Stepmother":
Sarah's Stepmother in "Labyrinth", named Irene in tie-in media, only gets about a minute of screen time before Sarah rushes off to her room in a soaked snit. Fanfic writers usually turn her into an evil bitch and even the manga sequel, "Return to Labyrinth", has her cold and abusive to Toby, her biological child. But here's the thing...
I think Sarah's mother gets a bum rap.
Dressing nicely for an evening out and having mild conflict with a teenager does not a Lady Tremaine make. And as someone who actually lived with a narcissistic, manipulative, emotionally abusive stepfather, I can tell you that Irene doesn't even come close to wicked step parent territory.
Backstory first. It's never spoken of in the film, but clues in Sarah's room tell us that her real mother is a stage actress who abandoned her and her father for another actor. Sarah idolizes her mother and tries to emulate her with play acting. Sarah's father met and married Irene sometime after Linda ran off, and Sarah, who thinks her mom walks on water, resents the hell out of Irene for taking her place. A place that Linda abandoned for another man.
She couldn't help it. He looked like David Bowie.
Let's look at her first alledged transgression. She won't let Merlin into the house. Instead she orders him into the garage. Heartless, we assume because we all love dogs and only the most soulless of monsters don't. But slow down. She didn't leave him out in the rain. She put him in the garage. Furthermore, Merlin is an Old English Sheepdog. Is he a nice dog? Sure, but he's also a breed that's notorious for being high maintenance and hard to keep clean and right now he's soaking wet and filthy. Irene isn't being cruel, she's trying to keep him from ruining the carpet.
So now Sarah and Irene are in the house about to have their confrontation. "Sarah, you're an hour late..."
Sarah lost track of time. Sarah is the one who screwed up. Irene has every right to be frustrated. For all we know, she and Robert were supposed to see a movie or meet someone and Sarah's tardiness wrecks their plans. Note, please, that while she is frustrated, she's not even yelling. My mom would have screamed bloody murder and then held it over my head for weeks.
"Your father and I go out very rarely..."
"You go out every single weekend!"
There is no way to confirm who is right on this. I will say Sarah is the one prone to hysterics and exaggeration, so it's not looking good for her.
"And I ask you to babysit only if it won't interfere with your plans."
I ask. Irene asks. She doesn't demand, and she doesn't expect Sarah to give up her previous plans.
"Well how would you know what my plans are? You don't even ask me anymore!"
Sarah, you were LARPing in a park by yourself. Furthermore, with the storm you would have gone home anyway.
"Well I assume you would tell me if you had a date. I'd like it if you had a date. You should have dates at your age."
Irene doesn't want Sarah to be a Cinderella stuck at home every night. She wants her to go out and have a social life. This is literally the opposite of the bedtime story Sarah tells Toby later.
Also, "I'd assume you tell me..." Irene might not be wording it in the best way here, but she wants Sarah to communicate with her. She wants them to have a relationship.
Then Robert enters the scene. "Sarah, you're home. We were worried about you."
WE were worried. As in both he and Irene. You think that's the reason she was waiting on the porch? Because their sixteen year old daughter is an hour past when she said she'd be home and now it's raining and getting dark?
It's not like she'd ever talk to a stranger.
Sarah runs up the stairs in a snit, not even acknowledging her father and leaving Irene dismayed. "She treats me like a wicked stepmother in a fairy story no matter what I say." Her voice isn't angry, it's hurt. She's making an effort to reach Sarah, but nothings working. She can't break through the tantrums and the anger and the hero worship of Linda.
Sarah is a fantasy junkie. It's all over her room. Her books are all fairy tales. Her dog and her teddy bear are named after figures from Arthurian legend. But she's wrapped herself in a different kind of fantasy, a toxic one. One where Irene, well meaning and kind, is one of the evil stepmothers from her fairytale books, while Linda is good and virtuous like one of the dead moms at the beginning. Except Linda isn't dead. She's shtupping a costar.
Part of Sarah's coming of age and maturity is rejecting Jareth, the stand in for her mother's lover and therefore finally rejecting following her mother's selfish path. We see her finally let go of Linda by putting her picture and clippings in the drawer. Hopefully, the next morning, after she picks the confetti out of her hair, she'll finally be able to start over with Irene.
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