I haven’t seen this in twenty years, and it seems as though I was more impressed by the symbolism of fairy tales in my youth than I am as someone approaching middle age.
My boyfriend and I argued which director this seemed to be taking from — David Lynch or Terry Gilliam. I can’t stand the surreal fable stuff, and the point of men = predators & women = prey was a bit heavy handed. Some of the effects were okay, but when everything is shrouded in a mist-covered story within a dream, I don’t care. Pacing is way off, and there’s really no plot to speak of, and all the surreal, ethereal aesthetics just never really did anything for me.
My memories of this film were just much different. It’s like if Labyrinth had no charm and no David Bowie.