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Goblins Week: The Grim, Giddy Goblins of LABYRINTH

Welcome back, goblins and ghouls, to the fourth annual installment of SpookyJawn! Each October, our love of horror fully rises from its slumber and takes over the MovieJawn website for all things spooky! This year, we are looking at ghosts, goblins, ghouls, goths, and grotesqueries, week by week they will march over the falling leaves to leave you with chills, frights, and spooky delights! Read all of the articles here!

by Darian Davis, Staff Writer

The first time I saw Labyrinth (1986), I was likely nine or ten. I’d dug it out of a tub of VHS tapes because it was my turn to pick for movie time at my babysitter’s house. The fanciful script on the tape caught my eye, so I handed it to my sitter, who popped it into the VHS player and turned down the lights. Once Bowie started singing and the film’s title blazed across the screen in neon blue, I knew I was in for something magical. The goblins that ran amok on the TV filled me with cautious wonder, but the rest of the movie had me doubled over in laughter at the little creatures' hilarious hijinks. It wasn’t until my teen years that I realized the film was the brainchild of its director Jim Henson and concept artist Brian Froud. 

The film focuses on Sara (Jennifer Connolly), a sixteen-year-old girl who, exhausted from being saddled with babysitting duties, wishes her baby brother to be taken away by the fictional Goblin King she reads about in a play. Much to her surprise, the very-real Goblin King obliges by taking the baby, tasking Sarah with solving a labyrinth within thirteen hours to rescue her infant brother or lose him forever. Even though Labyrinth has become a cult classic over the years, it doesn’t quite carry the same tone and aesthetic Jim Henson’s Muppets are known for. This change in style is thanks to artist Froud’s illustrations. Henson stumbled across a book of Froud’s collected work depicting gritty fantasy creatures and was captivated by the mischievous personality of the goblins in Froud’s drawings. Their partnership began with 1982’s The Dark Crystal. The Dark Crystal is decidedly more serious and steeped in faerie lore and is often remembered more widely than Labyrinth. However, the ‘86 follow up is a fun, more light-hearted outing that’s just as memorable and takes the best of Froud’s grim designs and gives them silly things to do.   

The goblins of Labyrinth provide the perfect level of fright for the not-so-scary crowd. They are wonderfully ugly, which draws a level of believability that makes you wonder if Henson might have found these critters scrounging around in the wilds of England. And yet, they’re not so grotesque that they can’t be believed as silly little monsters running amok, making them the perfect spooky fodder for families. 

You’ll find goblins scattered all throughout the film and up to no good. Some skitter around the labyrinth, weaving their way around hedges in oversized armor and helmets. Others are boring holes under the endless titular maze using massive death drills. One of my personal favorite goblins is The Junk Lady, a crotchety old woman who’s nostalgia has turned her into a walking hoarder with a mountain of knick-knacks and sentimental items piled on her back. At one point, Sarah and her reluctant dwarf guide Hoggle rescue a giant red-haired beast named Ludo from a pack of goblin soldiers. They’re tormenting the big guy by jabbing him with poles with tiny creatures on the ends, who’s razor sharp fangs clack away at the beast’s auburn hide. Sarah chases them away, and as the goblin soldiers scamper off into the labyrinth, I love the way their little chattering creature poles bob over the hedges as they run. 

Growing up, I always wondered why the Goblin King was a human. Wouldn’t it stand to reason that a king of goblins would also be a goblin? Practically, I don’t think anyone would dare suggest Bowie cover his dangerously good looks under thick layers of prosthetic makeup. Instead, he rocks a fright wig, exaggerated winged eyeliner makeup, a series of puffy white shirts, and tights that stretch questionably over Bowie’s anatomy, as it were. Even stranger, the Goblin King often transfigures into an owl. The connection? I couldn’t find one. An abandoned version of the script was meant to show the Goblin King in his true goblin form. The rare time Bowie does cover his face is during a sequence featuring a fabulous masquerade ball. Other humans (or goblins dressed up in a dream?) are there, spinning with partners in a waltz, wearing beautifully intricate goblin masks. The costume and set design are all inspired by the Venetian renaissance, but filtered through an ‘80s lens, making it a perfect snapshot of the time period. Bowie’s original, synth-filled ballad “As the World Falls Down” shimmers over the scene as the Goblin King lowers his goblin mask, crooning at Sarah. It's all an attempt to keep Sarah in the labyrinth forever as the Goblin Queen, a plot point that plays awkwardly by today’s standards. 

But Sarah is no damsel in distress. I love watching her figure her way out of the labyrinth and overcome its obligatory moral lessons. She’s joined and helped (or not helped at all) by many funny characters along the way, but, in the end, no goblin can stop Sarah’s ingenuity and determination, making Connelly’s character the best sort of protagonist I can’t wait to introduce to my daughter when she’s older. 

As the eldest of two, I can’t deny that I have had moments in my childhood where I uttered the magic words, hoping the funny goblins would rid me of my bratty little brother. At the time of release, the Labyrinth’s magical mix of talent didn’t work for general audiences, performing poorly at the box office. But who can deny the brilliance of Froud’s grimy goblins dancing to a Bowie soundtrack? I’m so glad the film has found life underground with nostalgic millennials nearly four decades later, keeping it alive for future generations to discover. There’s even an illustrated companion book filled with all the great creature concept drawings Brian Froud imagined for the film, to keep the party going. Henson’s and Froud’s impeccably crafted Labyrinth features a fantastic world for families to visit over and over again. It’s a place where we can get into mischief inside the maze and boogie with the grim, giddy goblins that frolic among its hedges.