If I’m being honest, “Pinocchio” has never been a story that has resonated with me. Even as a child, it was probably one of my least watched Disney classics. My indifference has only been exacerbated by the constant need to retell and reimagine the same story over and over and over again throughout the years, typically with little success. So for myself, the idea of two “Pinocchio” movies in the same year merely months apart invoked a very deep, hard eye roll. I luckily managed to miss the Disney live action remake (which I’ve only heard horrendous things about and find most of the live action remakes to be white noise level entertainment at BEST and wholly unnecessary when the classics are right there) and only chose to check this latest version out because of my trust in GDT. Plus, word on the street coming out of the festival season was that Del Toro’s “Pinocchio” had Oscar contender written all over it.
That’s a far cry from the evisceration of the Disney attempt, so I had to see it for myself with the intent of proving all of my fellow film critic colleagues wrong. I went in with the about as much skepticism as one thinks the stuffiest of stuffy critics approach film, and came out dazzled, overwhelmed (in a good way), and all strings attached to this deeply moving, heartfelt, stunning visual achievement. Packed with heart and all the strangeness you’d expect from an auteur like Guillermo del Toro, his reimagining of “Pinocchio” stands tall above its predecessors and cements itself as not only the best version of the story to date, but one of the best films of the year. del Toro takes some big risks that deliver massive rewards, and avoids many of the pitfalls and narrative missteps that have plagued other versions. He smartly changes the story in ways that make it far more engaging and meaningful while never missing the core themes of the original. Weird, bold, and fascinating, Guillermo del Toro’s “Pinocchio” is a truly magical experience and another masterful creation of brilliant, boundary pushing filmmaking.
Directed by del Toro and Mark Gustafson from a script by del Toro and Patrick McHale, “Pinocchio” is a stop motion animation reimagining of the classic tale. It must be said, this is not your father’s Pinocchio. For starters, the film is firmly placed in 1930s Italy during the rise of fascism. War torn Italy plays a pivotal role in the story and serves as the catalyst of events. Stricken with grief after the loss of his son Carlo, wood carver Geppetto can’t let go of the loss of son. He drunkenly (yes, I said what I said) carves a wooden boy in the likeness of his son, and passes out for the evening. To his surprise the next morning, the wooden puppet comes to life, and though afraid at first Geppetto sees this as a chance to have Carlo back in his life. However, Pinocchio is not Carlo, and is so curious and awestruck by the new world that he continually finds himself in trouble and being disobedient to the wishes of his father. What transpires is a series of events that will both push the two apart but also bring them closer together, as they both discover love, family, and the meaning of life.
del Toro’s “Pinocchio” is deeply introspective, conquering huge existential questions about life, death, and purpose. Gone are the surface level explorations of magic, wishes, and kids turned into jackasses. Del Toro seems to believe in the depths of meaning buried beneath the disney-fied versions, and seeks to get the heart and soul of the original novel. Don’t worry, it’s not THAT dark, as del Toro is careful not to get too pensive and keep things humming along with childlike wonder. But he is going against every grain here, and creates a “Pinocchio” that is unlike anything you’ve ever seen and a wholly unique interpretation of the well known tale. All of these things are the right moves, too. Narratively speaking, “Pinocchio” feels far more purposeful this time around. del Toro seems personally connected with this story, not just making it for rights retention or IP cash grabs. He has something to say and wants “Pinocchio” to say it, and fills every frame with heart and significance.
Even little changes have big impacts. Things like actually giving us a reason WHY a lonely old wood carver would even long for a real boy. When you say that out loud without context, it’s downright creepy. Even with context, it still doesn’t age well or sit right. del Toro corrects this by simply giving him a reason to long for a child, his son, whom he loses tragically. Geppetto is now a man struggling with grief and not just some weirdo who wants a boy…because? This also strengthens the relationship between him and Pinocchio, and gives an explicit dynamic to what the father wants his new child to be and who his new child wants to be. That is true, genuine conflict that immediately invites audiences in to “Pinocchio” and keeps them engaged now that many of us can relate. This “Pinocchio” is about a father longing for his son and a wooden boy failing to meet the expectations by trying to be something he is not.
It’s these kinds of things that not only “Pinocchio” a deeply engaging and moving story, but also another testament as to why del Toro is one of the most masterful filmmakers working today. All of this is just the beauty of the narrative, which would be just fine if that was all there was to behold. But instead, del Toro not only wants you to be emotionally engrossed, he also wants you to be visually astounded, too. Partnering with Netflix Animation and The Jim Hensen Company, the craftsmanship of the animation is a true cinematic marvel. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such seamless, vibrant, wondrous stop motion animation before. “Pinocchio” is a technical achievement on its own, with the animation so expertly executed there are times you don’t even realize you’re watching stop motion. The 3D wonder of “Avatar” wore off after about 30 minutes, but the beauty and mastery of “Pinocchio’s” animation never once wavered. I was genuinely floored from beginning to end, and you’d be hard pressed to find anything as visually captivating as del Toro’s latest outing. Frank Passingham cinematography is indescribable, filling every frame with dazzling shot compositions that grips your vision and begs you not to blink.
And just when you think that’s all del Toro needs to do, that there’s nothing else he could possibly add to an already solid film, he goes straight John Hammond “spare no expense” on his voice cast. Only del Toro could get Cate Blanchett to voice Spazzatura, a monkey assistant with all of 3 actual lines of dialogue and the rest monkey shrills and squeaks. There isn’t a single character that doesn’t have a powerful voice behind, with Ewan McGregor as Sebastian J. Cricket, David Bradley as Geppetto, Christoph Waltz as the dastardly Count Volpe (a return to form for the actor as the amalgamation of Mangiafuoco and The Fox from the original), Tilda Swinton as the Wood Spirites, Ron Pearlman as Podesta, Tim Blake Nelson as The Rabbits (this will make more sense when you see it, I’m not explaining their role here for fear of spoilers), Finn Wolfhard as Candlewick, and even Jon Turturro as II Dortorre (a doctor with like 3 lines, too).
You just can’t miss with a voice cast like this. It’s so stacked I’m surprised he didn’t snag Brendan Fraser to be the whale (pun intended). And then there’s newcomer Gregory Mann as Pinocchio, who’s charm and wonder shine through with every line. Mann brings the much needed life to “Pinocchio,” both for the character itself and in the reinvigoration of the narrative itself. Mann brings it all together with his boyish naivety and self discovery, and once again makes himself the best version of the character to date. There simply isn’t a weak link here. “Pinocchio” is technically masterful, brilliantly cast and performed, and powerful in its storytelling. I really never thought I would say this about any version of this tired, rehashed fairy tale, but I loved “Pinocchio.” Unequivocally loved this film, and adored del Toro’s bold choices to embrace much of the darkness in the source material and being willing to tackle, big themes to convey a touching story with something meaningful to say.
del Toro’s “Pinocchio” refuses to let the dazzling visuals, vibrant colors and lighthearted musical numbers take away from what he wants this story to be about. Life, death, family, war, fascism, truth, lies, connection, loss, grief, hope, and yes, even the meaning of life are all bursting at the seams of the narrative, and his incredible direction somehow manages to drive all of these poignant points home without ever making “Pinocchio” feel like a gut wrenching downer. The combination of a children’s story with dark, existential themes is a balancing act even the best of directors can struggle with, but Del Toro is so intent and steadfast in his vision that somehow, call it magic or a wish on a star, it all comes together perfectly.
“Pinocchio” is truly one of the best films of the year, and that’s a bold statement coming from someone who had every intention of prejudging this story as the lights went dim. I’m a believer, and I’m pretty confident that del Toro’s “Pinocchio” will make my top ten best films of 2022. Yes, it’s THAT damn good, and it is a must see for any fan of cinema. If you can, I recommend catching this one on the big screen. The visuals pop so much more on the largest screen you can find, and I fear some of that magic may get lost on the smaller screened home viewings. I’m all about letting people see your movies, but I think “Pinocchio” deserves a full theatrical run so everyone can experience it the way it was intended.
Regardless of where you end up catching it, don’t miss this one. “Pinocchio” is a dazzling technical achievement in animation and a powerful, heartfelt story that will restore the magic and beauty of life in all of us. See. This. Movie.
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 Stars
Guillermo Del Toro’s “Pinocchio” is in limited release and will be available to stream on Netflix December 9th. You can watch the trailer below.
