Stream It or Skip It: ‘Pinocchio’ on Disney+, Which Finds Disney Pulling Our Strings yet Again for Another Pointless Remake

Disney’s serial live-action regurgitation of animated catalog classics continues with Pinocchio, a Disney+ exclusive curiously denying us the opportunity to see a Tom Hanks film directed by Robert Zemeckis in theaters. That puts it on par with 2019’s generally forgotten Lady and the Tramp (also a Disney+ exclusive) and pretty far removed from the eyeful of wonder that was 2016’s The Jungle Book. It’s also among three Pinocchio movies debuting in 2022 (hooray for the public domain), the first being a Russian animated abomination starring the voice of Pauly Shore, and the third being the upcoming Guillermo del Toro stop-motion effort for Netflix, due in December. But for now, we’re left wishing upon a star that this one is more than just another ho-hum Disney outing with a big-name director, a la Tim Burton’s Dumbo and Guy Ritchie’s Aladdin.

PINOCCHIO: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: A CRICKET SPEAKS. Jiminy Cricket (voice of Joseph Gordon-Levitt) narrates via voiceover as his visage treks across the screen. The voiceover voice and the insect banter back and forth a bit, the future cricket bickering with his past self in a meta/postmodern manner that slaps us in the face and says, “HEY YOU’RE WATCHING PINOCCHIO IN 2022.” Jiminy, a homeless hobo whose disturbingly human-like toes poke out of his tattered boots, makes his way to a workshop run by a lonely old man. He quietly watches Geppetto (real-life Hanks) as he talks to his pet cat and pet goldfish – and to a photo of a boy we presume is his son. The old man puts the finishing touches on a marionette of a wide-eyed boy, then starts talking to that, too, naming it Pinocchio. His heart is clearly in tatters.

It’s worth noting that Geppetto also has carved a legion of cuckoo clocks, hanging on the walls and not for sale, not even to eager customers. In this space, time is ever-prevalent, but also suspended. One gets the sense that he rarely leaves this little cottage, with its tools and workbench and tidy little bed behind a curtain. His world is small. One senses he’s trapped in the amber of tragedy. And then the top of the hour arrives and all the clocks clatter to life, their cuckoos not cuckoo birds at all, but a variety of animated Disney characters like Woody, Donald Duck and Maleficent, and at this point, what was a subtle, aching meditation on loss and grief has become a crass display of cross-marketing.

Even when Geppetto wishes upon a star that Pinocchio (voice of Benjamin Evan Ainsworth) will become a “real” boy and a fairy (Cynthia Erivo) arrives to grant that wish, the visage of meta-anachronisms popping forth from the cobbler’s lovely handcrafted clocks lingers to spoil the mood. By the time the old man sends Pinocchio to school and therefore begins the sentient puppet’s journey through the uncanny valley to selfhood, that poignant melancholy has evaporated, replaced by a talking, garbage-scarfing seagull (voice of Lorraine Bracco), the unstoppably yammering Jiminy (who repeatedly calls his pal “Pinokes”), and a parade of colorful characters ranging from kind puppeteer Fabiana (Kyanne Lamaya) to skeezy fox Honest John (Keegan-Michael Key) to nasty traveling-puppet-show master Stromboli (Giuseppe Batiston). Episodic and perilous hijinks ensue!

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Too many Pinocchios to count. It bests the strange, dull 2019 version starring Roberto Benigni as Geppetto, and the strange, creepy 2002 version starring Roberto Benigni as Pinocchio. (One expects del Toro’s to be strange, but wonderful, like many of his other works.) Does anything have the lasting influence of the cherished Disney classic? Likely not.

Performance Worth Watching: This is Hanks’ second goofy, OTT performance of the year (see also: Elvis). And despite his hammy exaggeration, his turn as Geppetto is deeply empathetic, setting a moody and pensive tone early on that doesn’t have the strength to resonate through the rest of the film.

Memorable Dialogue: Honest John rips off a profound one: “Why on earth would you want to be real when you can be famous?”

Sex and Skin: None.

Our Take: What is “real” anyway? Pinocchio is absolutely “real,” in the sense that he exists in a mobile physical form with some level of rudimentary self-awareness. Does he need flesh and blood and bone in order to be “real”? Does the definition of “boy” begin with these attributes? If he looks like a boy and acts like a boy, as he pretty much does, then he’s a boy, no? By that token, if a cuckoo clock looks like a cuckoo clock and acts like a cuckoo clock but is actually a cuckoo clock disguised as a commercial for another Disney movie, is it still a cuckoo clock? I ponder.

Writer Carlo Collodi’s Pinocchio puzzles over the definitions of self and identity and the nature of transformation within the story of a naif on a Homeresque journey; it’s a classic for a reason. It’s been adapted countless times, none more memorable or ubiquitous than Disney’s 1940 animation, with its unshakeable tunes, rousing sense of adventure and touching sentiment; it, too, is a classic for a reason.

Zemeckis’ remake – sold as “live action” but ultimately more photorealistic CGI than actual sets, as is most of Disney’s modern rehash – doesn’t maintain the tonal balance of its predecessor. It submerges us in the wistful dolorousness of Geppetto’s sorrow, then shifts to a visually detailed, but ugly spectacle that has us feeling brotherhood with the overwhelmed Pinocchio, specifically his ability to spin his head 360 degrees. His adventure/series of trials is whimsically unpleasant, the elements of parable cluttered with yammering characters defined by their more grotesque features – and the overriding sense that all of this weird wondrousness is too much rigamarole for our TV screens, but might be more transporting in the theatrical setting.

There’s also the overriding sense that it’s all rather unnecessary. Cinderella, Mulan and The Jungle Book benefitted from deeper, more thoughtful remakes; Disney’s original Pinocchio is already deep enough in its philosophical rumination, and light enough to inspire universal appeal. Attempting to improve on it is a foolhardy task, and if Zemeckis is many things – a populist filmmaker with a diverse resume – a fool is not one of them.

Our Call: SKIP IT. This Pinocchio isn’t without charm, but it ultimately feels like calculated rehash with nothing new and inspired to add to the story.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com.