Review: Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio (2022)

Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio

Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio

Rating

Director

Guillermo del Toro, Mark Gustafson

Screenplay

Guillermo del Toro, Patrick McHale, Matthew Robbins

Length

1h 57m

Starring

Ewan McGregor, David Bradley, Gregory Mann, Burn Gorman, Ron Perlman, John Turturro, Finn Wolfhard, Cate Blanchett, Tim Blake Nelson, Christoph Waltz, Tilda Swinton, Tomm Kenny

MPAA Rating

Original Preview

Click Here

Review

Guillermo del Toro has a miniseries on Netflix called the Cabinet of Curiosities. That’s as apt a description for del Toro that I can imagine. His films always have a sense of wonder and suspense that make his voice an often thrilling one in cinema. Yet, some of his films feel a bit like the later films of Tim Burton, visually stunning and mesmerizing, but surprisingly uninspiring. Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio falls in that category.

Based on the the popular children’s fairy tale The Adventures of Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi, Del Toro attempts to freshen up the story, transplanting the bulk of the story into World War II where Italy is fighting on the side of the Nazis, which provides a firm foundation for the plot. Geppetto (voiced by David Bradley) is a kindly carpenter who makes statuary and other wooden creations for the village. His son Carlo (Gregory Mann) is a well-behaved young man and the pair live together in peace and harmony. A supposedly accidental bomb strike during World War I on the church in which he’s working leaves Carlo dead and Geppetto grieving. Years later, without looking like he’s aged a bit, in a drunken rage at all that God had taken from him, he chops down a pine tree he had planted in his son’s honor and turns it into a marionette he names Pinocchio (Mann). Unlike his real son, Pinocchio a disobedient boy and gets himself into a number of dangerous situations, many of which will be familiar to those who’ve seen the original Disney film.

That Walt Disney production from 1940 is the definitive version. While it changes some of the elements of Collodi’s original story and compresses the events down, it still remains a vibrant part of many memories, both young and old. Del Toro’s version isn’t likely to supplant that Golden Age original, nor should it. That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for another interpretation, especially from a filmmaker who reveres the animated medium and gives it his full creative attention.

Del Toro’s vision is solid, a resplendent stop-motion wonder. The hand-crafted pieces come to life in magical and visually marvelous ways. Painstaking detail is put into the individual elements reminiscent of the craft often accompanying Laika productions. While it might not have quite have the air of wonderment of Kubo and the Two Strings, it compares favorably to ParaNorman, except for one thing. It’s missing the heart. The audience is meant to care about Carlo and his wooden boy, but Pinocchio is made into an unlikeable brat, rather than an endearing one. While that’s more akin to the Collodi version of a perpetually naïve and easily duped figure, that obliviousness doesn’t translate into endearment. Additionally, Carlo is irascible and has moments where you can feel concern for him, but ultimately his mistakes seem tailored to spawn action rather than for that action to come organically.

The story, which tries to maintain its connection to the Collodi fairy tale while differentiating itself from the Disney version, latches onto the Nazi angle. While that is a largely fertile ground from which to grow a story, it feels tired by the film’s end. Even the scene where Pinocchio and the Nazi commandant’s son bond over a training exercise only briefly enlivens the story. Ultimately, the film is mired in predictability. The vocal work is fine, but it’s hampered by a song score that’s tepid and unappealing. The Alexandre Desplat score has its charms, but doesn’t have the zest or whimsy a composer like Danny Elfman was able to bring to the aforementioned Burton’s most inspired works. Del Toro’s direction lacks the spark that made The Shape of Water, his ode to creature features, so wonderful. Perhaps his lack of familiarity with the necessities of stop-motion animation made it more difficult for him to fully realize his vision.

For some, Pinocchio will work, but that won’t be true for everyone. This is a project that, had it been produced by Laika, would have been even more magical and would have had that panache and emotional passion that makes their films so terrific. While the producers certainly have the potential to make great movies one day, unfortunately, this isn’t one of them.