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Guillermo del Toro is like an overgrown 14 year-old kid whose head is bursting with images and icons from pop culture (leavened
with references to 19th-Century art) and who wants to throw all of them into our faces all at once. In this film he got $60
million to do just that. The result is an avalanche of passion and visual exuberance that's exciting if not always satisfying.
del Toro doesn't have the visual virtuosity of the artists he references, so (with a few notable exceptions, such as the
funeral scene in the rain) what you get is Caspar David Friedrich-lite, Harryhausen-lite, Mario Bava-lite. The film is held
together by the extraordinary character of Hellboy, brilliantly incarnated by Ron Perlman -- a monster sweetly proud of his
powers to do good, to battle the forces of evil, but bewildered by his existential state. Does a monster who defeats other
monsters on behalf of humanity become human, or does he remain merely a useful freak? The dilemma is resolved in this good-hearted
and finally very romantic tale, admirable for its quirkiness and energy and common decency.
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