Contrary to the beliefs of social media lurkers unhappy with equivocating reviews of their favorite intellectual property, Disney does not pay critics. But the studio does frequently—and mostly nicely—ask them not to reveal plot points that could be deemed “spoilers.” It’s a request you might not even think possible for, say, a mostly faithful remake of an animated film from 1940. In the case of Disney+’s live-action Pinocchio, however, director Robert Zemeckis makes choices so different and disastrous that they derail the entire movie. And of course this review will not reveal what they are, but they make the difference between a misguided cover version and a dreadful reinvention.
Live-action Disney remakes are best seen as the equivalent of Broadway musical adaptations: they add a few new songs, toss in some contemporary jokes, and throw a ton of money at special effects. Expecting the same kind of timelessness a second time, however, is mostly a futile exercise. The state fair might book a talented cover band, but we’re still listening to the original artist in our car or at home. For this version of Pinocchio, extra money or time should have been added the equation, because the animation either looks unfinished or deliberately cartoonish, and the title character’s voice drastically changes from one scene to the next. Meanwhile, new songs by Alan Silvestri and Glen Ballard lack the snappiness and easy-rhyming wordplay of classics like “I’ve Got No Strings” or “When You Wish Upon A Star.”
Fans of Carlo Collodi’s original 1883 serialized children’s book likely never considered the Disney animated film its definitive adaptation, but rather one well-done interpretation that took plenty of creative license. The challenge other cinematic versions have subsequently faced is that Collodi’s source material requires considerable resources to do its spectacle justice—as well as a much more likable protagonist to marshal them around. As written, Pinocchio is a selfish brat who needs a dose of humility, and eventually receives it. Roberto Benigni’s 2002 version stuck closest to the text, even as he tested the audience’s suspension of disbelief by playing the wooden boy himself. Matteo Garrone’s 2019 take probably struck the best balance between fealty to the source material and cinematic spectacle, shying away (perhaps necessarily) from some of Collodi’s darkest moments but largely recreating what happens in the text with lavish makeup and effects.
Consequently, a new version changing things again is not that big a deal (or at least shouldn’t be a surprise) to longtime fans of the story, but it may bug those tethered to the 1940 take. The script by Zemeckis and Chris Weitz pulls together some of the story’s more random elements—there’s more set-up to Geppetto going out in that boat, for example—but injects a level of self-awareness that feels anachronistic at best (Chris Pine jokes, anyone?). Other choices feel more perverse: Geppetto (Tom Hanks) literally builds Pinocchio to be a replica of his own dead kid. The story doesn’t delve into that idea much further, but it forms a creepy foundation for their future relationship.
Joseph Gordon-Levitt does his best Cliff Edwards impersonation as Jiminy Cricket, narrating and costarring in the story, but his passable rendition unmistakably feels like a younger actor pretending to be older and more Southern. Someone like Jeff Foxworthy might have been a less-affected choice. On the other hand, Keegan-Michael Key delivers the best voice performance as the conniving fox Honest John, who sings “Hi Diddle Dee Dee” far better than expected. (For all Disney’s changes to the story, they at least preserve the conman team as an actual fox and cat, where most other adaptations use humans with bad wigs and prosthetic teeth.)
The story otherwise remains recognizably the same, with a blue fairy (Cynthia Erivo, who gets only one scene) bringing the puppet to life and Pinocchio falling victim to various temptations after literally being born yesterday. Ultimately this leads him to Pleasure Island, an evil playground whose similarities to Disney’s California Adventure make the film the second Disney live-action remake (after Dumbo) to depict theme parks as horrible, exploitative places. Disney may or may not be mocking their money-machine, but they also offset such meta-critiques by adorning Geppetto’s workshop with a bunch of merchandise-ready cuckoo clocks. (Upon seeing them, my wife immediately said, “If they sell those cuckoo clocks, we’re buying some of them.”)
As Geppetto, Hanks once again puts to good use those hours of working opposite Wilson the volleyball, effectively displaying an entire range of emotions to scene partners who were never present on set. You’ll believe he’s petting a real cat, or hugging a marionette like he means it. Hanks’ Italian accent is thankfully subtle, in marked contrast to his scenery-chewing interpretation of Colonel Tom Parker in Elvis. Luke Evans’ evil coachman, however, plays it much broader, with a Cockney accent which makes that character’s Oliver Twist/Fagin connection more obvious. Clearly cast for his ability to dance, Evans impressively buries those Gaston good looks under hairpieces and scowls.
So many of Zemeckis’ recent projects have felt like experimentation or stealth research and development for new advancements in special effects; for better or worse, The Polar Express and Beowulf walked so the likes of Avatar could fly. But in Pinocchio, he feels behind the curve technologically for the first time, chasing the tail of other projects by transforming Monstro from a whale into a Syfy-worthy Sharktopus.
Even so, changes—or shortcomings—like these wouldn’t necessarily be a deal-breaker for Pinocchio fans, who have endured many different versions in the name of supporting the story they love. And for the most part, things shuffle along charmingly enough for a welcome but hardly necessary reimagining of Collodi’s text—at least until they really, really do not. Far be it from us to actively reveal what scuttles Zemeckis’ film, but let’s just say that it seems like the people who made its biggest creative choices have more wood for brains than the character they brought to life.
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