Pan's Labrynth by Guillermo del Toro

Guillermo del Toro was born October 9, 1964 in Guadalajara Jalisco, Mexico and is a director, producer, screenwriter, novelist and designer. He is mostly known for his acclaimed films, BladeII, Pan's Labyrinth and the Hellboy film franchise.  His films draw heavily on sources as diverse as weird fiction, fantasy and war.   Raised by his Catholic grandmother, del Toro developed an interest in filmmaking in his early teens. Later, he learned about makeup and effects from the legendary Dick Smith (The Exorcist, 1973) and worked on making his own short films. At the age of 21, del Toro executive produced his first feature, Dona Herlinda and Her Son (1986). Del Toro spent almost 10 years as a makeup supervisor, and formed his own company, Necropia in the early 1980s. He also produced and directed Mexican television programs at this time, and taught film.

Pan's Labyrinth Movie Poster

Pan's Labyrinth Book

Quotes

“Do whatever the fuck you want, even if it's wrong, and then tell about it with honesty. That is film-making to me...Success is fucking up on your own terms.”

“I fabricate everything. There's not a single real thing in Pan's Labyrinth, because ultimately I'm very specific about [those details]. Context is everything in a fable, because every story has already been told. So the only variations I find are the voice of the storyteller and the context in which it's told.”

 

Excerpt from The Strain
Book One of The Strain Trilogy

Chapter One

The Legend of Jusef Sardu

Once upon a time," said Abraham Setrakian's grandmother, "there was a giant."

Young Abraham's eyes brightened, and immediately the cabbage borscht in the wooden bowl got tastier, or at least less garlicky. He was a pale boy, underweight and sickly. His grandmother, intent on fattening him, sat across from him while he ate his soup, entertaining him by spinning a yarn.

A bubbeh meiseh, a "grandmother's story." A fairy tale. A legend.

"He was the son of a Polish nobleman. And his name was Jusef Sardu. Master Sardu stood taller than any other man. Taller than any roof in the village. He had to bow deeply to enter any door. But his great height, it was a burden. A disease of birth, not a blessing. The young man suffered. His muscles lacked the strength to support his long, heavy bones. At times it was a struggle for him just to walk. He used a cane, a tall stick...taller than you...with a silver handle carved into the shape of a wolf's head, which was the family crest."

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