If you have been reading this blog for any length of time it will come as no surprise that I am a huge fan of Guillermo del Toro. I’ve written numerous blog posts about his work (here’s an example), and edited an anthology on it titled The Supernatural Cinema of Guillermo del Toro: Critical Essays. For this reason I have been anticipating the Netflix release of his feature length stop-motion animation films Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio. What follows are some reflections of mine after my initial viewing listed by major topic.

Characteristic del Toro aesthetic: As with all of his work, there is a certain visual aesthetic that is easily discerned in this film. I noticed it in particular in a few places where the “monster” characters are depicted. Del Toro includes his own version of the Blue Fairy common to many depictions of this story, but for del Toro this comes by way of the Wood Sprite, and this character’s sister, Death. Both are blue and in keeping with the Blue Fairy, but that’s where the similarity ends. Each figure has several wings, and the wings have eyes one them. For those familiar with del Toro’s work, the look of these characters are reminiscent of the Angel of Death in Hell Boy II. In addition, the design of the whale that swallows the main characters goes far beyond an angry sperm whale as conceived of in the classic Disney treatment of this story. Del Toro’s depiction is more monsterous than whale-like, including strange orifices that protrude from the creature, a part of its design that makes it more sea monster than seafaring mammal.

Father-Son dynamics: In many of his films del Toro plays with the often difficult relationships between fathers and sons. This is a major facet of this film, where a deeply flawed father grieving years after the death of his son carves Pinocchio out of wood in a fit of drunken anger. During their initial relationship, Geppetto is a seriously flawed father, making him appear very human, who must wrestle with himself as much as his son in what he expects him to be. For me as a father who has his own share of difficult relationships with sons, and who has lost one son to death years ago, I found this treatment of Geppetto and his relationship with Pinocchio to be not only very realistic, but extremely moving.

Fascism and war: As in The Devil’s Backbone and Pan’s Labyrinth, fascism and war are found as a background and context for this story. Their presence makes the characters struggle to find their place in their midst, either through acceptance and participation, or as innocents who must navigate and survive in the presence of this evil. The impact of the violence of fascism and war and what this means for the human condition make for an interesting addition to this previously familiar story.

Religion and death: Perhaps the most important elements for me in this film were the depictions of religion and death. I’ve written quite a bit on del Toro’s lapsed Catholic background and how this continues to find expression in his work even as an atheist. It is fascinating to watch del Toro bring the crucifix into this film in two key ways. First, Geppetto has been commissioned to carve and later repair a crucifix for the local church. This is the first public place Pinocchio walks into after coming to life, and he walks forward toward the crucifix with worshippers on either side seemingly praying to the wooden figure in front of him. After experiencing the town’s fears about a living puppet in their midst, standing in the church while his father works on the crucifix, Pinocchio asks Geppetto “Why do the like him and not me?” From Pinocchio’s perspective it’s a fair question, one wooden figure inquiring about differences in reception toward another. For those familiar with del Toro’s work, an important religious symbol and figure are incorporated into the narrative as the director continues to work out his understanding of the relationship between art and religion. The second of the use of the cross comes by way of Count Volpe who has been humiliated by Pinocchio when the puppet did not perform at his puppet show according to script for Mussolini, and as a result of the traveling show theater was burned by fascists. Volpe wants to take his revenge on Pinocchio, so he ties him to a cross and prepares to burn the puppet “alive.” We might wonder why del Toro choose to have Pinocchio on a cross in this scene. He could have just as easily, and more recognizably, had him tied to a stake for burning. Is this an instance of a moment reminiscent of Bride of Frankenstein where the cross appears, and thereby another example of del Toro incorporating the symbolism of his prior Catholic background? Finally, death is an important facet of this treatment of the story, and one that makes it come close to moving beyond family entertainment. (This isn’t your parents’ Disney film here.) Questions of death, mortality and immortality are front and center, forcing us to wrestle with life’s choices and the embrace of those we have in the moment, for tomorrow they may be gone.

There has been a lot of commentary and buzz about this film. It seems to have been well received by the viewing public, and there is even talk of the possibility of an Academy Award nomination for it. It has even raised the bar for stop-motion animation, no mean feat given the amazing work of studios like Laika. Not bad for a project that took fifteen years to come to the screen, and was turned down by several major studios until Netflix took it on. Fans of Guillermo del Toro will not be disappointed by this unique twist on a classic tale. You’ll never look at this puppet in the same way again.