Okay, I’m going to pull a “Schrödinger’s Cat” here. Mazes and labyrinths are both the exact same thing, and complete opposites. Now that I have your attention, let me explain.
If you pay attention to modern culture, like, at all, then one of two images will come to mind when I say the word “labyrinth:” A minotaur, or David Bowie. Or a creepy-looking Spanish-speaking faun. Now, we can talk about Greek mythology all day, but the only thing that really matters here is that the first recorded maze-like structure in human history was called “The Place of the Double-Edged Axe.” And since the Lydian language was apparently much more efficient than modern-day English, they just mashed up the words “labrys” (meaning “double-edged axe”) and “inthos” (meaning “place”), and thus, the word Labyrinth was born.
By the late 14th Century, the development of Middle English was in full swing, and people started calling labyrinths “mazes,” derived from the word “amaze,” which at the time was more closely tied to its Old English ancestor “amasian,” meaning to stupefy, make crazy, or overwhelm with wonder (as in, “I wonder how to get out of this freaking dungeon / hedge garden / Pac-Man-level”).
Fast forward to today. If you couldn’t tell by now, language is a very fluid thing (somehow we’ve even managed to make some words literally mean the opposite of what they mean). Although “labyrinth” was the first recorded word used to describe a maze, today’s definition of the word is quite the opposite of what we know mazes to be. I found a table on diffen.com that goes into more detail, contrasting the modern attributes associated with each word, but here’s the distilled version:
So really, every labyrinth in every movie with “Labyrinth” in the title is actually a maze by today’s standards. So as long as you have those facts straight, you should be good to go for at least another century. I’m sure the human race will have turned the English language upside-down and inside-out by then. Literally.