Not Lyin’: Guillermo del Toro’s “Pinocchio” could be a classic in the making

“Imagine having that imagination, that visual vocabulary, and that astonishing body of work.”

Taylor Swift on Guillermo Del Toro

Taylor’s not wrong. Guillermo is truly one of cinema’s great visionaries and all around fabulists, which is why his “Pinocchio” works so well. It is a fine pairing, Collodi’s puppet who would be a  real, living boy and what del Toro does with the tale is both timeless and timely.

Geppetto (voiced by Atticus Filch himself, David Bradley) is a man bereft; his son Carlo (perhaps a nod to Collodi) was killed by a stray bomb during World War One, and the old man has turned to drink, leaving unfinished a crucifixion to be restored in the bombing’s wake, and in general, turning in on himself. At one point, he begins carving a puppet in memory of Carlo and far too hammered, puts off the refinements until the next day. Little does he know that a Wood Sprite has been led to the old man’s studio and wishing to relieve him of his pain, imbues the puppet with the life force and names him Pinocchio, being made of pine. 

All of this is told through the narration of Sebastian J. Cricket, a more true to form insect than Jiminy and expertly given voice by Ewan MacGregor. Sebastian is a writer, you see, and wants nothing more than a quiet place to write his memoir. He lodges in the pine tree that Geppetto will cut down later and you could say that his home is quite literally in Pinocchio’s heart.

When Pinocchio does come to life, he’s a true wild child. Headstrong, disobedient, rambunctious and not a little hideous. This is not Disney’s puppet boy; here, he is very much in line with Collodi’s rendering and not necessarily cute or likable but unlike other versions, possesses more agency (to frankly do the wrong things, but what are you gonna do? If he didn’t, we’d have no story.)

Geppetto tells him to stay put until he gets back; he’s going to church and they’ll sort things out when he returns. Naturally, Pinocchio head out on his own after Geppetto and upon arriving at the church, causes havoc. He’s a demon! “No, he’s just a puppet!” Where are his strings? “Can’t you see he’s harmless?” He’s the work of the devil! You create this but won’t finish Our Lord on the Cross!

Interestingly, del Toro doesn’t go full villagers going after the monster (not in the book, anyway), but there is a real monster in the midst in the form of Podesto, a chilly Ron Perlman, the town’s local fascist leader. He and the priest show up at Geppetto’s and impress upon him that Pinocchio will have to attend school. 

Over the course of the day and into the evening, Geppetto does his best to teach Pinocchio what being a boy entails, not the least of which is telling the truth. When Pinocchio fibs, his nose doesn’t extend like a dowel but grows like a tree branch. Geppetto files it down and appears to be gradually accepting the animated puppet’s presence in his life. He is most assuredly not Carlo’s replacement; but does grow on everyone, including me. There’s a refreshing honesty about what a mess this wooden android brings to the story.

We care about Pinocchio as we would for any kid about to embark on his life in the big world. The next day, Geppetto returns to the church with Pinocchio to complete the crucifixion statue, when the Priest and Podesto arrive. The Priest is overjoyed at seeing Il Singor restored but Podesto demands to know why Pinocchio isn’t in school at which point, Geppetto sends his charge on his way. And this is where the story’s drama kicks in.

By this point, Sebastian has been doing his best to guide and inform Pinocchio, but it’s pretty obvious that the wooden kid isn’t deeply invested in the cricket’s admonitions and instruction. On his way to school, he’s been spotted by Spazzatura, the malevolent monkey assistant to the traveling fair’s director, Count Volpe (Christoph Waltz) who quickly runs to the fair to tell the Count about a walking, talking puppet. You know the drill. In fact, if you’ve seen any of the versions, you’ll have a good grasp of the plot but in this case, there is a deeper, more penetrating vision at work. 

Del Toro, along with his co-writers Patrick McHale (“Adventure Time”) and Matthew Robbins (del Toro’s collaborator on “Mimic” and “Crimson Peak”), and co-director Mark Gustafson (animation director for Wes Anderson’s “Fantastic Mr. Fox”, who’s been doing claymation for decades) are willing to interrogate Pinocchio’s immortality, the afterlife, and where the ultimate meaning in our lives resides. By moving the narrative to World War Two Italy, del Toro is able to also look at the historical processes, particularly of that era, and the inescapability of the effects those processes have on our lives and dreams.

It’s a bold move but one that adds an additional layer to a revered children’s classic (by which I mean Collodi more than Disney); it expands the scope of what is often presented in the contracted perspective of a somewhat rote coming-of-age story. Yes, Pinocchio will learn lessons on the way; from playing hooky to join the circus to being swallowed whole by the leviathan, but in this case, he is also going to encounter the cruelty of those forces that would use children as cannon fodder for less than virtuous ideals. 

Along the way, of course, Pinocchio will forge friendships and eventually come to realize that Volpe has been bilking him and lying to him. He also stands up for Spazzatura when suffering abuse at the Count’s hands and how they form an alliance to teach the count a lesson. Traveling across the sea to an island off Italy’s southern coast, Volpe has been requested by Il Duce himself to perform before him. When Mussolini arrives, Pinocchio performs a bawdy and outright ballsy song and dance aimed at the dictator himself. Mussolini before the show mentions that he likes puppets but now? Not this one. He has Podesto assassinate Pinocchio and burn the fair to the ground.

Pinocchio dies. He dies a few times, each time being resurrected in an afterlife administered by four black rabbits who spend their down time playing cards. He meets Death, the Wood Sprite’s sister, who tells him that each time he dies, he has to stay a little longer with her each time. He will, of course, die for good, probably with the heat death of the universe (or until his wood rots and dissolves?) As it is, Death is miffed at her sister for bending the rules so egregiously but you sense she is a little fond of Pinocchio.

Pinocchio resurrects to be recruited by Podesto into the Fascist Youth army and it is here that he comes to bond with Candlewick (sensitively voiced by “Stranger Things” and “It”’s Finn Wolfhard). Candlewick is introduced to us early on as a wannabe Malfoy, but assumes more nuance each time we see him. Del Toro lets us know that life with father is not fun and games and Candlewick confesses to Pinocchio just how miserable his father makes him. Pinocchio shares a bit of wisdom that Sebastian passed along to him; that fathers often say things in the heat of the moment that they think they mean but really don’t. It’s a sweet moment refreshingly bereft of schmaltz. The lines are dropped matter-of-factly and score their points stronger for that.

Speaking of Sebastian; he and Geppetto have been following behind Pinocchio’s travels, just missing the fair as it travels across the land. Eventually, they find that Volpe and his troupe have landed at the island across the strait, but the passage is fraught with mines and a giant leviathan lies beneath the surface. Suffice it to say, Geppetto and Sebastian book passage and the ferryman abandons ship when the Big Guy shows up and swallows them whole. 

Now, it’s at this point that I did a quick mental comparison and wondered if I’d find their fate as horrifying as I found it when I was four and saw Disney’s version in re-release. Despite being a big kid who finds del Toro’s approach immersive and profound and frequently beautiful, I rarely find the work as disconcerting as many do. The set work, the animation, creature design and the rest are all so…gorgeous. Even the gastric juices in the belly of the beast.

I also realize that I neglected Spazzatura’s addition to the crew. In the early morning hours the young kids of the Fascist Youth Group (I’m not sure what they were actually called) are to engage in military maneuvers and it’s Pinocchio’s troop versus Candlewick’s. Both boys (because, let’s face it, our moving pine kid really is a boy…just still kind of naive and made of wood…) make it to the top at the same time and after a short tussle, realize the inanity of the drill and hoist both flags together. Podesto is not amused at his son. He demands he shoot Pinocchio but of course, Candlewick refuses, and shortly, bombs drop.

Pinocchio is blown out onto a promontory overlooking the sea where he encounters Count Volpe and Spazzatura. By this point, Spazzatura is on Team Pinocchio and attacks Volpe as the Count moves to finish off Pinocchio by sword. Both fall toward the ocean, Spazzatura into the water and Volpe to the rocks. After a bomb blast, Pinocchio falls into the ocean, as well, and eventually, both he and the monkey are swallowed up by the giant whale. They do, of course, meet up with Geppetto and Sebastian. The meeting is a happy one, but Geppetto seems resigned to the fate of living out his remaining days in the vast expanse of the creature. 

Nevertheless, Sebastian has a plan. If Pinocchio tells enough lies, the whole party can travel across the branch to the blow hole and return to the world before the whale descends to the depths for another decade. While everyone does make it out (Geppetto and Pinocchio fall short of reaching the hole but are sneezed out when the long branch begins to irritate the appropriate membranes), the leviathan begins an aggressive push to swallow our heroes again. Pinocchio is able to rig a sea mine to blow the creature up (or at least, its mouth) but dies in the  process as Geppetto sinks beneath the waves.

Upon awaking in Death’s layer, he begs to be sent back quickly to save his father and here is where his referring to Geppetto as his father landed harder. Throughout the film, Geppetto is called “Papa” and its usage, at first, is macabre in light of Carlo’s absence; then, it begins to deepen and grow in resonance, but it’s here when Pinocchio discovers precisely what Death meant earlier in the film that even though he might live forever, those he cares for will not. It is the fleeting nature of life that gives it its preciousness, its meaning. Death tells Pinocchio that she can send him back but to do so will render him mortal. 

Naturally, he chooses mortality. It comes quicker than expected when he expires after saving Geppetto and the Wood Sprite reappears to Sebastian’s remonstration. Early on, she told Sebastian she would grant him one wish if he succeeded in being a guide to Pinocchio. Was he successful? He did his best and that’s all anyone can do, as Seb might say. His wish is that she restore Pinocchio to life. Why should Geppetto suffer a second loss of a child? And, indeed, Pinocchio gave his life for another; this is the ultimate sacrifice but should it cost so much so early in his existence? 

She brings Pinocchio back with the same words with which she brought him to life, ending with the injunction that he would keep Geppetto company until the end of his days. Under Sebastian’s narration, we learn that this is precisely what happened. Geppetto passed, then Sebastian himself, then Spazzatura. We see Pinocchio begin his journey back into the world and Sebastian tells us that he understands that the young wooden boy has done well for himself and there we leave the story.

Words can’t do justice to the visuals. Gustafson’s animation team realized a world into which claymation is smoothed out but still rendered in classical handmade form as to give a tactile sensibility to the characters and the various settings they inhabit. It’s a far cry from Rankin/Bass and maybe even a bit of a bump beyond the Brothers Quay and more on the same level with Aardman Productions (fun fact: cinematographer Frank Passingham was also director of photography on “Chicken Run” and their first foray into CG animation “Flushed Away”).

It seems almost odd that it has taken this long for Guillermo del Toro to venture into animation, let alone, essaying a classic like “Pinocchio”. It’s a remarkable film and I have to disagree with critics who feel the songs aren’t catchy. There’s no “When You Wish Upon a Star”, “Give a Little Whistle”, or “Hi-Diddle-Dee-Dee”, but Katz and del Toro wrote some fine lyrics nicely couched in Alexandre Desplat’s compositions and I genuinely feel like “Better Tomorrows” sung by Ewan MacGregor is a keeper. 

The kicker there is that every time Sebastian would get ready to break into song, he’d get squashed. “Oh, the pain…” indeed. 

And what of Gregory Mann as both Carlo and Pinocchio? He does a fine job. This is only his third film, but he conveys the sympathetic nature of Carlo and the brashness of Pinocchio with equal assurance. He strikes the right tones throughout the film with subtlety and (thankfully) never overdoing it, except where exaggeration is called for. 

Could del Toro’s version become a classic? I don’t see why not. Once it moves to streaming, it’ll be interesting to see what Netflix does with it. Albeit that del Toro’s context is Italy under the fascists and borrows as much from Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein” as Collodi, I think older kids might find quite a good bit in here of how to navigate the world at large, as well as the repeated deaths of teen struggles. 

Some random observations: the restoration of the Christ statue in the church entails replacing the left arm that had been blown off when the bomb dropped on the church; Pinocchio loses his left arm when the mine explodes in the whale’s mouth. There is a scene during one of Pinocchio’s death where assumes a semi-crucifix posture, and of course, his sacrifice for his father (and by extension, others) could be considered Christlike. These themes of selflessness versus selfishness and Pinocchio’s growth toward the former are mirrored by similar moments throughout: Sebastian grows more open and less puffed-up, Geppetto puts aside the grief and the bottle for his love of Pinocchio, and even Spazzatura meets his fear of Volpe when he defends Pinocchio against the Count’s threat.

Additionally, and this is random, but I have wanted to see Cate Blanchett and Tilda Swinton share the screen at some point. I have a half-assed idea for a script where they play two eccentric sisters who may or may not be spinsters, who may or may not be spies, and who may or may not be witches. Sorry, haven’t gotten any farther than that. If you can do something with that, have at it. You’re welcome.

Sure enough, Cate and Tilda are in the film! However, not as sisters (I would have thought playing the Wood Sprite and Death would have been fitting for each); Blanchett plays Spazzatura the monkey and Swinton does double duty in the Wood Sprite and Death roles. Oh, well…..someday.

Is it a kid’s film, though, really? I may be the wrong person to ask; however, I don’t find anything here more or less disturbing than in any of the animated features I grew up with. In fact, I’d be hard-pressed to say that this film is as disturbing as certain aspects of “E.T.” or even “The Wizard of Oz”. Your mileage may vary, but I could really see this becoming regarded as a classic of the genre in another few years; the warmth is there, the hope is there, and frankly, yes, the songs are there even if they’re not Disney level tunes. 

As with other visually remarkable films, words just aren’t going to do it. But here’s the Pine Boy himself:

His dad:

Sebastian:

The Wood Sprite: