Pan's Labyrinth

Pan's Labyrinth reminded me of Blake's Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience, in that the two halves of the film were not contradictory, but complementary.  Whether or not the fantasy sequences are "real," I think, is the wrong question.  Ofelia's ability to maneuver through the fantasy world, as well as to manipulate the fabric of the "historical" world, derives from belief.  (Certainly, the film's final sequences in particular--Ofelia escapes from her room through another chalk door; the labyrinth reshapes itself as Ofelia flees the Captain--suggest that the magical and historical worlds penetrate each other.)  In the film's historical world, the parallel to Ofelia's belief in magic is the guerillas' belief in the possibility of successful action against the government: both are oppositional; both are regarded by the "adults" as "immature" or unrealistic; both presume, at base, that the known order of things can transformed.  The real fantasy of Ofelia's fantasy world, in a sense, lies in how opposition ultimately works there. 

The toad, the Pale Man, and even the Faun* are all fantastic incarnations of the sadistic Captain Vidal.  The toad destroys the tree, much as Captain Vidal destroys his wife, while the toad's key foreshadows the key to the storeroom.  The Pale Man eats innocents, suggesting not only Vidal's skills as a torturer but also the danger of entrusting him with his son; moreover, the magical banquet echoes Vidal's dinner party (which Ofelia resists by not showing up to eat), and the Pale Man's lurching walk anticipates the drugged Vidal's attempt to catch Ofelia in the labyrinth.   Finally, the Faun both demands total obedience and shares Vidal's obsession with time.   (Incidentally, while it might be a stretch, I think that Vidal's inability to see the Faun in the labyrinth is not just a sign that the Faun isn't "real"; Vidal, who has a troubled relationship with mirrors throughout the film, at this moment is the Faun.) 

Ofelia's experiences in the fantasy world tutor her in the act of resistance: she undertakes the first quest with no hesitation whatsoever, ignores the Faun's advice in the second, and finally resists the Faun entirely in the third.  It's worth noting that the second and third quests do complicate the question of resisting authority.  When Ofelia eats the grapes in the Pale Man sequence, she doesn't just endanger herself; she inadvertently causes the "deaths" of the two fairies, who sacrifice themselves in order to save her.  Moreover, she refuses to take responsibility for her decision, describing it as an "accident."  This isn't resistance--it's selfishness.  (Dr. Ferreiro in fact accuses Pedro of something similar.)  By contrast, in the third quest, Ofelia willingly gives everything up to save her brother.  What Ofelia must learn, in other words, is that questioning authority also means assuming responsibility: there can be no resistance without consequences.

In Ofelia's fantasy world, though, questioning authority is also rewarded.  The only way to truly win the Faun's respect is to disobey him properly; even selfish disobedience doesn't necessarily have lasting consequences.  Ofelia still manages to escape the Pale Man, and the fairies magically regenerate themselves.  If anything, the historical world's bleakness lies in the gloomy reality that questioning authority often leads to a very final and brutal end.  While, indeed, resistance is ultimately the source of hope (the flower on the fig tree), those who resist can only take comfort in the morality of the act itself. 

*--As you might guess, I disagree pretty strongly with Philip French, who argues that the Faun is "frightening in appearance but essentially kindly, the opposite in fact of the Captain."