At the time of its release in 1986, few, if any, could have predicted that “Labyrinth” would be Jim Henson’s final directorial feature. Though he had gotten his start in television in the 1950s, and by the 70s had become a household name on the strength of “The Muppet Show” and “Sesame Street,” his career as a feature film director had only taken off at the beginning of the 1980s. While his ambition and scope grew with each of his films and more films seemed to lay ahead, a mixed contemporary reception to “Labyrinth” and his untimely death in 1990 at the age of 53 cut short his career.
“Labyrinth”, screening at the Hiway Theater in Jenkintown on Saturday, Sept. 21, has, thankfully, undergone a critical reappraisal in the years since its release, and with good reason. In “Labyrinth,” we find the best qualities of Jim Henson’s body of work: boundary-pushing creativity and a spirit of collaboration.
One of the greatest special effects in film history seems so natural and seamless that you might not even consider what a technical marvel it is. It’s Kermit riding a bicycle without the aid of a puppeteer in “The Muppet Movie.” Inventive practical visual effects were a hallmark of Henson’s projects and “Labyrinth” is no exception. What’s striking about “Labyrinth’s” visual effects is that they are not visual fireworks designed to fill the audience with awe, rather, they flesh out the world and draw the audience in.
Outside of Jennifer Connelly and David Bowie, the primary cast is composed entirely of puppets and animatronics, and yet each is imbued with vitality and life, Take, for instance, the Helping Hands, a vertical shaft lined with latex hands that form faces as they communicate with heroine Sarah. The set piece lasts less than 90 seconds, and, per the Jim Henson Company archives, required a 30-foot high set and 75 performers to enact. In those 80 seconds, the craft becomes invisible and those hundreds of latex hands become living characters.
As perhaps evidenced by the 30-foot-high, 75-performer-deep wall of puppeteers, “Labyrinth” is a product of collaboration as much as it is of Henson’s vision. To watch “Labyrinth” is to see a collective of artists in collaboration and dialogue with each other.
Brian Froud, a celebrated fantasy illustrator with whom Henson had worked on his previous directorial effort “The Dark Crystal” designed the world and the characters, and very little is lost in the translation from his illustration to the screen. The initial script, penned by Terry Jones, of Monty Python, but revised by the likes of George Lucas and Elaine May, bears the hallmarks of each creator who worked on it. And then, of course, there is David Bowie, who takes center stage as the Goblin King Jareth and as the songwriter for the film’s musical numbers.
What’s remarkable is that “Labyrinth” does not sag under the weight of these heavy hitting contributors, but is all the stronger for it. What Henson brings to the table above all else is a knack for choosing collaborators who share the vision and will expand upon it, creating something greater than the sum of its parts. The best Henson projects are the ones that feel like team efforts.
“Labyrinth” was never intended to be Henson’s swan song. In a more just world, it would be one in a string of Henson features, each more ambitious than the last. Thankfully, “Labyrinth” is more than capable of bearing such a weighty title. What contemporary critics could not have realized at the time is how rare a film “Labyrinth” truly is. Nearly 40 years on, its craft and spirit of collaboration set it apart. It stages its magic tricks so assuredly that the viewer hardly realizes they are tricks at all.
“Labyrinth” is wildly creative and tremendously warm, and I can think of no better words to describe the legacy of Jim Henson.
“Labyrinth” will play at 10 a.m. on Saturday, Sept. 21 at the Hiway Theater as part of their $5 Family Matinee series. For tickets and additional information, visit their website at hiwaytheater.org.
