Pinocchio

Fables are wonderful teaching instruments for the young as they involve talking animals and potential death to impart a moral. Whether it’s the short-sighted destruction of a valuable resource, the difference between clever expediency and a master stratagem, or using observational methods to expose deception in the identity of one’s grandmother, these satiric stories are evocative lessons in human folly. The Adventures of Pinocchio, written in 1883 by Italian writer Carlo Collodi, has proven to be one of the more popular stories, having been adapted and reimagined countless times (along with this film, Netflix has an animated version directed by Guillermo del Toro due in 2021). The beloved tale of a wooden puppet longing to be human and his epic journey to fulfill that wish, Pinocchio’s saga imparts all the key wisdoms to indoctrinate a child into society. Do the right thing, stay in school, and work hard, and you too will have everything of which you ever dreamed.

Italian director Matteo Garrone (Gomorrah) helms this lavish live-action adaptation. And I do mean lavish, from breathtaking shots of the Tuscan countryside dotted with picturesque villages and meticulous production design that sees every bit of broken crockery artfully placed, to the costume and makeup effects that are startling and, honestly, a bit unnerving (the Talking Cricket, played by Davide Marotta, is especially alarming in both his voice and visage, and appears out of nowhere often enough, that it seems like he’s in his own horror film). As the title character, Federico Ielapi embodies Pinocchio with the requisite manic energy of the id gone wild, bouncing around episodic adventures involving skipping school, joining a traveling puppet troupe, and being continuously taken advantage off by the tricksters Cat (Papaleo) and Fox (Ceccherini), and of course, spinning falsehoods that cause the enlargement of his nose. He’s a free spirit, this marionette without strings, pursued by his poor creator Geppetto (Benigni), who just wants his son to behave. Lessons are learned, often the hard way, about gluttony, peer pressure, and ungratefulness, culminating in Pinocchio’s journey to the Land of Toys, where boys lazily frolic all day, only to be transformed into donkeys used as manual labor as punishment for their idleness.

Garrone is no stranger to grotesque tableaux. His 2015 film, Tale of Tales, mined similar fairy tale material with uneven results. And whether it’s the episodic nature of the film, or the broad manner in which the players behave, Pinocchio suffers a similar fate. There is no cumulative emotional resonance to be had here, just a succession of incidents to navigate. Pinocchio’s ultimate transformation from puppet to human boy lacks much of the transcendence inherent in the parable, and thus the film never moves beyond its wooden machinations.