Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio (Netflix)

I nearly forgot to share a few of my thoughts about Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio, and I decided to do so now, while I still remember it comprehensively (and, yet again, procrastinating whilst trying to finish my paper, which is due quite soon). To put it simply: this is by far my most favourite of del Toro’s projects—except, maybe, the documentary “Lovecraft: Fear of the Unknown” (2008), where he participated as one of the narrators, but strictly speaking, that’s beside the point.

My attitudes to del Toro’s filmography have been a bit complicated since the very beginning, when I watched “Pan’s Labyrinth” (long after its premiere, maybe in 2008 or 2009). I can’t say that I was impressed that much—maybe due to the overwhelming experience with “war cinema” which I got through the lens of Soviet, Eastern European (primarily Polish and Hungarian) and Spanish filmmakers. What was new, however, and a bit unsettling, was del Toro’s bold approach to combining the elements of horror (which I regarded as something slightly too “pop-cultural” for my taste back then) with a historically accurate narrative (Spain under Franco’s power): oddly enough, it worked no worse than in Saura’s “Cria Cuervos” or “La prima Angélica” and depicted a clear picture of fascist terror. The style of cinematography was another thing that attracted my attention: sombre, quirky and tastefully surreal.

But what I love most about del Toro is his inconsistency: “The Shape of Water” was god awful and cringy while “Crimson Peak” was decent. “Cabinet of Curiosities” has its own fair share of ups and downs (I haven’t seen them all yet), but “Pinocchio” is impeccable.

Del Toro’s Pinocchio is a perfect example of a stop motion animation (another one that struck a chord in me was “The House,” a recent British production for Netflix): every tiny detail in it is beautifully executed, and visually it’s a real feast. As for the plot, I would say that I was truly satisfied with it after many years of going though sloppy narratives and rigid characters’ arcs: it felt coherent and greatly aligned. Del Toro’s way of reimagining the original story and setting it amid the uproar of Mussolini’s Italy was excellent (I wasn’t exactly sure whether he would manage to pull through the difficulties of the portrayal of such grisly things as rising fascism in a cartoon, yet he nailed it flawlessly). Besides, del Toro’s version makes much more sense and doesn’t feel as overloaded with endless subplots as Collodi’s book—it’s warm, and funny, and sad without being sickly sweet, and everything is in the right place.

One tiny critique from me, though: please, stop this musical nonsense. I truly hate it. All those songs drove me mad, and thank God there were not so many of them. But other than that, everything else was marvellous. Highly recommended.