In Pan’s Labyrinth, 11-year-old Ofelia confronts monsters in two realms. When her mother remarries a captain in Fascist Spain, Ofelia is transported to a world of violence, torture and abuse. She escapes to a fantasy world of fairies and fauns that appear equally menacing. While her brutal stepfather Vidal focuses solely upon the baby boy residing in her ailing mother’s womb, Ofelia explores the labyrinth in the dark woods nearby. She sneaks into the frightening chambers of the Pale Man, a devourer of children. Yet, her stepfather proves to be equally monstrous. Pan’s Labyrinth becomes a bloody nightmare of a fairytale, collapsing the distance between the Spanish Civil War and Ofelia’s imagination.

Del Toro ends Pan’s Labyrinth with remarkably Christian imagery and choices. The faun proves to be a trustworthy companion, drawing Ofelia (and her baby brother) into the labyrinth with Vidal in hot pursuit. During her final test, Ofelia chooses to sacrifice her own life rather than her baby brother’s.

Director Guillermo Del Toro affirms her brave decision when he says, “Ofelia dies at peace with what she did. She’s the only character in the film who decides not to enact any violence. [She is] the only one who chooses, ‘I will not take any life because I own only mine,’ that’s the character who survives, spiritually. The fascist dies the loneliest death you could ever experience.” Del Toro also recalls Kierkegaard’s quote, “The tyrant’s rule ends with his death. The martyr’s rule begins with it.”

Why, in Matthew 18:3, does Jesus challenge His followers to turn and enter His kingdom “like children”? We often focus on their innocence, but we also should affirm their wisdom and courage. As does Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, kids know something is off with the Wicked Witch, even if they can’t put their little fingers on it. They would take Belle’s risk (from Beauty and the Beast), entering an enchanted castle to free the prisoner within. They appreciate Ofelia’s willingness in Pan’s Labyrinth to die in order to save her baby brother. These are models of courage under fire, not innocence removed from the world. In dismissing fantasy films as “childish,” are we missing something profound about the nature of God and the character of His kingdom?

Enduring fantasy films not only present legitimate dangers. They also imagine a far-away place where we all long to live. It is not created God’s way, ex-nihilo (out of nothing), but reflects things we recognize from this world. They give us ancient and magical worlds as we’ve imagined them.

Visionary director Tim Burton loves to create fantasy worlds. Big Fish confronts the skeptic side in all of us. Burton clearly relished the opportunity to construct a magical version of the South, complete with witches and an enchanted forest. Yet, the film plays such mythology straight. In Burton’s fanciful film, Will Bloom returns home to visit his dying father, Ed. He wants the real story of his dad’s life and love, but Will’s efforts are frustrated by Ed’s adherence to “fish stories.” The film takes Ed’s side in the debate. Far-fetched accounts of gentle giants and werewolves as circus ringmasters are held up as true. We root against the rationalist and cheer for the absurdist storyteller. Big Fish assaults our cynicism. It challenges those who would drain the world of magic and mythology to reconsider.