Movie Review: Pinocchio

​In the modern era of widespread streaming services, independent films, and global connectivity, it’s easy to feel like there are no more original ideas left, especially in the horror genre. One can only sit through so many movies about ghosts, zombies, hockey players named Jason, and teenagers who like to shake cameras before becoming discouraged.

Luckily, I have good news for the modern horror fan who is struggling to find a truly original film: Pinocchio. Pinocchio is a pure tale of corrupted innocence, broken hearts, and existential horror.

The movie opens with a grieving widower named Geppetto who is desperately trying to give his life meaning through the only thing he has left: his carpentry. He builds numerous items for his own home, contraptions and trinkets to distract himself from the loss of his wife and only son. Unsurprisingly, none of his projects make him feel like more than a hollow shell of his former self.

One night, as Geppetto is laying awake, sobbing into his pillow and praying for his god to take him so he can join his family, he hears a knock at the door. Hesitantly, he answers, but the black-cloaked visitor is already walking away into the thick forest that surrounds Geppetto’s home. On his doorstep is a thick, black book with various archaic symbols on the cover. Curious, Geppetto picks up the book and brings it inside.

The subtle glow of the symbols surrounding the book add a sharp juxtaposition to the surrounding scene of Geppetto’s study, which has been as bleak and unremarkable as Geppetto himself throughout the opening sequence.

Geppetto’s workshop. As pictured here, Pinocchio was not the first doll Geppetto had ever built, but would by far be his best work.

Geppetto begins to read the book, and within it finds instructions for various rituals. The one that interests him the most, however, involves specific instructions for building a marionette doll to embody the soul of a dead loved one. Excited by the idea of seeing his son again, Geppetto becomes obsessed with the building of his new puppet. We see various scenes of him carefully measuring and sanding wood, throwing away various pieces that he judges to be impure.

Finally, he finishes the toy. It’s a small, humanoid figure, about the size of a child. It’s eyes are made from polished stone. It has a small, rounded nose and jagged teeth made from old nails and various bits of broken glass. Having finished, Geppetto now must prepare himself for the final task: bathing the puppet in the blood of an innocent.

Geppetto makes several trips to town, scouting for the perfect sacrifice. Finally, he decides on the town baker’s daughter, who is the same age that his son was when he died. We see the desperation and regret in Geppetto as he grabs the girl from her home late at night, not wanting to do what is required of him, but understanding that he must.

When Geppetto finally lowers his new wooden son into a large bucket of blood, nothing happens. He grows angry, yelling at his creation to wake up, but still nothing. He begins to grow worried that all of his trouble has been for nothing and considers leaving town. He packs the essentials and goes to bed, resolving to leave the next morning.

Overnight, we see a long, silent shot of the puppet in its bloodbath. Suddenly, it twitches.

The next morning, Geppetto awakens to the sound of soft, rapid footsteps from his study, as well as a few sickening, wet crunching sounds.

Upon opening the door, he sees that his work has finally come to fruition.

“My boy!!” He cries in pure joy. “My baby boy!! You’ve come home!!”

The puppet, which has been eating the body of the baker’s daughter, turns to gaze at Geppetto.

“Father, I am hungry,” the puppet says. It’s voice is a deep, rattling noise that sounds inhuman. The audio production team should be proud of how unsettling the voice remains throughout the film’s entirety.

“My boy, were you eating the body of poor Sofia?”

“No, Father,” the puppet lies. A strange glow emanates from its dead eyes and on each of its hands, a set of small, but razor sharp claws begin to sprout.

This is intended to show the true nature of the puppet and how it sustains itself. While it is shown to hunger for human flesh throughout the movie, it’s true power lies in sin. Each lie the puppet tells imbues it with more power, and later, when it commits murder for the first time, the puppet discovers that the strength and satisfaction it gains from taking a life cannot compare to simply bending the truth.

Driven mad by grief, Geppetto tries to build a new wooden puppet for each person his son kills. 

Geppetto struggles with the morality of his situation. He attempts to be a good father and teach his son right from wrong, but can also see that his son grows weaker and weaker with each good deed. He resolves to allow his son to read stories and then lie about them in an attempt to keep his son satisfied, but once Pinocchio has experienced the raw joy of killing, he knows he cannot let the thing continue to exist.

Geppetto tries to kill the puppet, but instead only succeeds in enraging it. The puppet restrains him and eats him over time, allowing Geppetto to live in agony as his limbs are torn apart one by one.

Eventually, the puppet leaves Geppetto to starve and disguises itself with the skin of another local child. It joins a traveling carnival and explores the country, killing as often as it can along the way and growing stronger as it does. One of the most compelling plot lines of the movie is the puppet’s struggle to understand how it is alive, and what that really means. Does sustaining itself by doing evil mean the puppet is inherently evil? Or is it simply surviving in the only way it knows how? What qualifies evil? Can the puppet die? These are only a few of the questions the wooden creature grapples with during its journey.

Meanwhile, Geppetto’s body is discovered and the townspeople conclude that he was the one responsible for both missing children in town, as well as the various murders that his puppet has committed.

When news of his father’s death reaches Pinocchio, the puppet decides to set sail to find a new home. The disappearances surrounding the carnival have already caused problems for it at this point, and it wants to cross the sea to find more prey and evade suspicion. A few days into its journey, however, the puppet is swallowed by a whale. The movie ends with a shot of the same whale, dead and beached on a shore, with small footprints leading away from the body and toward a nearby village.

All-in-all, this movie had me on the edge of my seat throughout. There were tears, laughter, pure joy, sadness, suspense, and no small amount of terror. It is a truly inspired horror masterpiece that you simply must see.