Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio (2022)
Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio is a bold and inventive take on Carlo Collodi's classic story of the puppet that aspires to be a “real boy”. As you would expect from the director, it is a far cry from Disney’s 1940 version, taking a more bleak and sinister tone. Despite songs and exuberant set pieces, Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio is an exploration of grief, death and even fascism. The screenplay by Guillermo del Toro and Patrick McHale also tackles the complexities of the relationship between parent and child. It is a remarkable example of stop motion animation and is visually very striking. However, it is a somewhat niche market adaptation and is not exactly easily accessible to children or the furiously hard of thinking. It comes as no surprise that this cinematic venture was green lit by Netflix, which appears to be the new home of the experimental, rather than a mainstream studio.
In Italy during World War I, a carpenter Geppetto (David Bradley) in a small village loses his son, Carlo (Gregory Mann), during an aerial bombardment by Austro-Hungarian forces. Geppetto plants a pine cone near his grave and spends the next twenty years grieving. A cricket named Sebastian J. Cricket (Ewan McGregor) takes up residence in the pine tree that subsequently grows. One day, angered by his prayers to restore his son being ignored, Geppetto cuts the tree down in a fit of drunken rage and makes a new son out of the wood. He leaves the puppet unfinished when he passes out, but the blue Wood Sprite takes pity upon him and brings the puppet to life, christening him Pinocchio (Gregory Mann again). The Sprite encounters Sebastian who lives in Pinocchio’s chest and promises to grant him a wish if he acts as Pinocchio's guide and conscience.
Although the essential “beats” of both the original story and Disney’s adaptation are present in Del Toro’s film, there are elements of Frankenstein as well as nods to Spielberg’s AI: Artificial Intelligence (2001) and Clive Barker’s Nightbreed (1990). Pinnochio is the archetypal “monster” who ironically is more human than his antagonists. Del Toro eschews the rather clumsy metaphor of a physical transformation into a real boy and instead explores the theme as a spiritual and philosophical journey. He even manages to touch upon the allure of fascism to the young, when Italian authorities take an interest in Pinocchio due to his undying nature. As ever magic is a force of nature, neither entirely benign or evil and this is reflected in the two Sprites that feature in the story. Both boast a Chimera like appearance which Del Toro has explored in previous films and have flawed motives.
The production design and creative supervision are outstanding with the film drawing heavily upon such diverse visual influences as Norman Rockwell and Hieronymus Bosch. Composer Alexandre Desplat provides a melancholic and tragic soundtrack and Del Toro co-wrote the lyrics to the songs that punctuate the two hour running time. Again these are not the celebratory or validatory numbers one associates with mainstream animated films. These are far more forlorn and heartbreaking. Yet they work within the context of the film. Guillermo del Toro's unique approach to filmmaking manages to pull all these eclectic elements together. His recurring themes of life, death and difference underpin this imaginative and bold retelling of Pinnochio. Fans of his work will embrace it, as will lovers of quality cinema and animation. Casual viewers may well struggle with such a radical variation on a theme.