"Bones and All" and "Bardo"

Neither Luca Guadagnino nor Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu's latest films have gotten much attention this season, despite both films being pretty strong.


I like "Bones and All" a bit more, a story about two vagrant teenagers in the early 1980s who bum around the U.S. and fall in love. Both of them are "eaters," or cannibals, a metaphor for a slew of personal troubles that brand them as outsiders. Maren Yearly (Taylor Russell) is abandoned by her father Frank (André Holland) in Maryland after she loses control and mutilates a girl's finger at a sleepover. She decides to track down her mother Janelle (Chloë Sevigny), who abandoned her at birth. Maren meets a sinister eater named Sully (Mark Rylance), who starts stalking her. Then she meets and starts traveling with Lee (Timothée Chalamet), a troubled eater from Kentucky.


The extended road trip through the unglamorous parts of America reminds me of "American Honey" and "Nomadland," full of people and places on the fringes. Maren and Lee are constantly committing petty crimes to get by, constantly dodging the specters of violence, and each trying to outrun their pasts in their own way. Because it's Guadagnino, the young stars still look gorgeous in their perpetual dishevelment. They meet other eaters played by Michael Stuhlbarg and David Gordon Green, who seem to enjoy looking sketchy and unwashed. "Bones and All" is a very violent film, with people constantly being attacked and consumed. Horror movie fans should have no complaints about the quantity of blood. However, it is also a very tender film that is unabashedly romantic.


The depiction of cannibalism here fascinates me. There's a long tradition of Italian cannibal films, with cannibalism often standing in for fascism or exploitation or some other social malaise. In "Bones and All," Maren and Lee's cannibalism is an inherited trait, a legacy of violence and destruction that makes their existence difficult. The worldbuilding is all done through Maren's interactions with other eaters, who are very few and tend to either become self-destructive, or the very worst kind of predators. When Maren comes across a man who is an eater by choice, who doesn't have the same urges that she does, she's repulsed. With the unusual treatment of this material, and the very high caliber of actors - Sevigny in her single scene is amazing - it's inevitable that this will become a cult classic. And for the right audience, this one is a heartbreaker too.


"Bardo: False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths" is a much harder, weirder nut to crack. Fifteen years ago, I used to think that Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu was the boring one, next to Guillermo Del Toro and Alfonso Cuaron. He's definitely proved me wrong. "Bardo" is about a Mexican journalist and filmmaker named Silverio Gama (Daniel Giménez Cacho) who has lived in Los Angeles for twenty years. He's about to receive a prestigious award and is having very mixed feelings about it, especially involving his complicated relationship to Mexico.


Maybe Gama or Iñárritu have been watching too many Frederico Fellini movies. The film starts with the image of a man's shadow leaping and flying through the empty desert. Then there's a scene of Silverio at the birth of his son Mateo, who refuses life, and decides to go back into his mother, Lucía (Griselda Siciliani). We learn later on that Mateo died, a few hours after birth. Silverio meets with an ambassador at a famous historical site, and imagines the bygone battle raging around them during their talk. He is invited to appear on a talk show, where he is unable to speak, and is subsequently humiliated. But it turns out that this didn't happen, because Gama ditched the appearance at the last minute. Gama's dreams, memories, and fantasies are getting mixed up with his actual life.


"Bardo" is one of those massively ambitious, semi autobiographical narratives that seems to want to put the director's entire psyche onscreen for our perusal. This results in some fabulous, surreal fantasy sequences that are a lot of fun, like a city bus suddenly becoming flooded, or Gama reconciling with his deceased father in a restroom, or an encounter with the conquistador Hernán Cortés. There are some beautifully orchestrated long takes, crammed full of carefully choreographed actors, often playing with multiple layers of reality. "Bardo" recalls "Birdman" more than anything, but with a far more personal story, taking its themes and many characters directly from Iñárritu's own life.


It's an impressive cinematic undertaking, but I've seen this story before, told far better by more innovative and daring filmmakers. I admire Iñárritu's ambitions, and he's very self-aware about what he's doing - there's an entire character devoted to vicious self-critique - but pointing out his own flaws doesn't mean they're not still there. I value Iñárritu's POV, especially his relationship with Mexico and his guilt over leaving it, but the film is so exhausting that it's not very accessible, and I doubt I'll return to it any time soon.


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Oscar Aftermath 2023

"Everything Everywhere All at Once" won seven Oscars last night, which is almost certainly more than it deserved, but I couldn't help feeling very positive about the wins anyway.  Michelle Yeoh, Ke Huy Quan, The Daniels, and the force of nature that is Jamie Lee Curtis have been very fun all season, and it turns out their momentum couldn't be stopped.  The film swept most of the guild awards, so very little was a surprise, but this was a pretty tight race up until a few weeks ago, so there was still some suspense.  Personally, I was rooting for "The Banshees of Inisherin" for Best Picture and for Steven Spielberg to pick up another directing Oscar for "The Fabelmans."  Both films, and three other Best Picture nominees, ultimately came away with nothing.  

Moving on to the Oscar ceremony itself, I've come to the inevitable conclusion that as fun as it is to watch live, the middle hour is a serious drag that probably nothing will be able to fix.  It was great to see the Best Song performances, and I especially appreciated the shot of adrenaline that was "Naatu Naatu," but the nominees in this category have been a very mixed bag for as long as I can remember.  I was thrilled to see David Byrne join Stephanie Hsu onstage to perform "This is a Life," right up until they actually started singing and I remembered that I didn't actually like the song.  Lady Gaga's minimalist, apparently last minute performance was a nice change though.  And no matter how you may feel about the merits of keeping those more obscure categories like Live Action Short, they can be counted on to deliver some truly spontaneous moments, like the whole audience being spurred to sing "Happy Birthday" to an actor with Down Syndrome.    

Jimmy Kimmel is an entertainer I have a lot of respect for, but as an Oscar host he leaves a lot to be desired.  The opening monologue was fine, the zings calibrated to hit a few sore spots without ever getting too mean.  The bits, however, were rough.  Bringing out Jenny the donkey (or her imposter) to say hello was cute, but asking Malala Yousafzai stupid questions was a waste of everyone's time.  The presenters all looked gorgeous, but I was painfully aware of the lack of seasoned comedians involved in the evening.  Elizabeth Banks gamely showing up with the Cocaine Bear was one of the only ones who really committed to a bit, and it's hard to tell if Hugh Grant is actually acting or just doesn't care to restrain himself anymore.  We did not have another Will Smith moment, as Halle Berry filled in as the presenter for Best Actress.       

As to how the races shook out this year, I can't complain too much. "All Quiet on the Western Front" winning four awards, including Best Score and Best Production Design struck me as unfortunate, but after the big sweep at the BAFTAs I'm just glad it didn't win anything more important.  Justin Hurwitz was robbed, clearly.  The only win that really irked me was Best Animated Short going to "The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse," a treacly Hallmark card of a short that beat out some much better contenders.  On the other hand, Sarah Polley picking up an Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay was one of the few nice surprises of the evening.  Her speech was a good reminder that "Women Talking" deserved so much more this year.  

I rarely talk about the commercials or advertising that come with the Oscar broadcast, but the negative impact this year couldn't be ignored.  Carving out time for the "Little Mermaid" trailer was a notable low.  It wouldn't be a big deal if multiple studios were able to do this, but after "Mermaid."  and last year's "Lightyear" presentation - and all the ads for Disney+ and Hulu shows during the breaks - the exclusivity of the Oscars to ABC feels dreadfully gauche.  Sure, the only reason the Oscars exist is to promote movies, but this feels like a direct contravention of the usual level-playing-field spirit of the night.  Shouldn't the broadcast be rotated, like they do with the Emmys? 

All in all, this felt like one of the better Oscars of recent years.  The winners put on a great show, there was a lot of big star power in the room, minimal politics, a few big blockbusters participating, and some smart decisions on the production side.  Little changes like using montages instead of the traditional clips for the acting performances, and the streamlined opening sequence made a difference.  However, I want to point out that while the antics with the Cocaine Bear were fun, it was obviously a guy in a suit.  In 1998, they actually put a live bear onstage with a very nervous Mike Myers.  

Now that was television.  

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Rank 'Em: 2023 Best Picture Nominees

It's been a good year for movies, and this is a strange, but ultimately decent Best Picture lineup. I definitely think there are some significant omissions, but I understand why all the nominated pictures are here. From best to least best, here are the Best Picture nominees of 2022, ranked.

1. The Banshees of Inisherin - It's Martin McDonagh reunited with Brendan Gleeson and Colin Farrell, and writing about violence and cycles of revenge again. Best of all, the movie is Irish from top to bottom, a culture that McDonagh knows inside out, and that he never feels entirely successful working outside of. Barry Keoghan, Kerry Condon, and Gleeson are highlights, but it's Farrell who I appreciated the most here as the jilted party.

2. Everything Everywhere All at Once - I knew once the Daniels came to the height of their creative powers and got the right project, the sky would be the limit. I have a few minor quibbles about the film related to pacing, mostly, but I absolutely adore how this film was able to surprise me over and over again. And if nothing else, seeing Michelle Yeoh and Ke Huy Quan in leading roles like this was something I'd been waiting decades for.

3. The Fabelmans - So many filmmakers made movies about making movies and the theatrical experience this year, but only Spielberg really seemed to wrestle with the responsibility that this conferred on the artist. And for a longtime Spielberg fan, it was monumental to finally see the psychological underpinnings of so many of his stories laid out through the dramatization of his family's turbulent, eventful history.

4. Tár - I recognize that this is a good film, and possibly a great one, but I just didn't enjoy watching it. So, this is where it's going on the list, above some favorites that aren't so technically accomplished, but below others that are even rougher. Watching "Tár" become a meme during awards season was fun, and Cate Blanchett's performance can't be denied, but I couldn't get over the film paying so much lip service to the art of conducting - and barely showing any.

5. Women Talking - Speaking of technical issues, the cinematography here really rubbed me the wrong way. I know the majority of the action takes place in a hayloft, but it's no excuse for the dim visuals hiding the lovely production design. Otherwise, I love the talented ensemble here, Sarah Polley's thoughtful script, and the positive treatment of faith. The film feels very timeless and I expect that its stature will only grow as more people discover it.

6. All Quiet on the Western Front - This is where I ranked "1917" back in 2019, and I feel much the same about "All Quiet." You've got thin characters, a lot of technical gimmicks, and ultimately the same kind of bombastic war movie tropes that the Academy is such a sucker for, year after year. It's good to see an adaptation of "All Quiet" from German filmmakers, but the film feels so anodyne and lacking in personality that I couldn't get behind it.

7. Triangle of Sadness - Now, personality is not something Ruben Östlund has trouble with. The criticisms of capitalism and the rich/poor divide in this film are as scathing as they are entertaining. The trouble is that the first half of the film is so much better than the second half, which depends more on characters that Östlund didn't really bother to make functional human beings. Kudos to the Academy for an unusual pick, but the level of filmmaking isn't quite there.

8. Top Gun: Maverick - It's impossible to protest that the most obnoxiously Hollywood film of the year that blew up the box office and possibly saved the theatrical business as we know it doesn't belong here. Outside of the technical categories, however, I really have my doubts. I suspect that this is a matter of personal taste, as I can find nothing in "Maverick" to complain about, but Cruise's films - and maximalist filmmaking in general - don't do much for me anymore.

9. Elvis - Never underestimate Baz Luhrmann. If Austin Butler wins the Best Actor trophy for playing Elvis Presley, it'll be well deserved. However, Tom Hanks's performance as Colonel Parker really is a low point of his career and drags much of the movie down with it. This is really neck and neck with "Maverick," but "Elvis" just had too many unforced errors for me to put any higher on this list.

10. Avatar: The Way of Water - And never underestimate James Cameron. "The Way of Water" looks gorgeous and is obviously a high water mark for special effects and CGI (pun intended). However, I wasn't much of a fan of the original "Avatar," and the sequel doesn't do much for me either, aside from the spectacle. Also, Sigourney Weaver playing a teenage character weirds me out to no end.

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My Favorite Kathryn Bigelow Film

I wrestled with whether this was the right time to be writing this entry for Kathryn Bigelow.  She's absolutely had an impact on American filmmaking, both with her failures and her successes.  However, that impact has so much to do with her status as one of the rare female directors who was working at her level during the 1990s and 2000s.  You really can't have a discussion about female directors without talking about Bigelow's career and what she accomplished.   

It was difficult to pick a film for Bigelow, but in the end I had the most to say about "Blue Steel," the crime procedural starring Jamie Lee Curtis as a policewoman and Ron Silver as her stalker.  This is one of those cases where the movie got better the more I thought about it, and elements that I originally thought of as weaknesses turned out to be something else.  On one level, the film is about catching a criminal, and follows the typical pattern of cop dramas and erotic thrillers from the era, like "Sea of Love."  Curtis's Officer Turner is a rookie facing a steep learning curve and lots of hostility in the workplace - inevitable for a New York cop in the 1980s.  

However, the film's real accomplishment is that it manages to capture the psychology of a woman who is trying to make herself seen and heard in an environment where women typically don't exist.  The discrimination is rarely overt, yet it's incredibly oppressive.  There's a scene toward the end of the movie where a killer gets away because Officer Turner's statement to the police is deemed insufficient to make an arrest.  From a legal and procedural standpoint, this is infuriating because there are many arguments you could make based on the testimony that could absolutely be used to convict the killer.  However, the point of the scene is that Turner's standing as a woman and as a rookie is so poor, nobody is willing to stick their neck out for her.  She's not believed because she has no authority or credibility in this situation, which is something that is unheard of with a male police officer in this role.

Over and over again, we see Turner in situations where she's rendered powerless due to institutional or cultural forces that automatically discount her based on her gender.  She's constantly being held accountable for her actions, but doesn't seem to be afforded the same protections and deference enjoyed by other cops.  Even in her own family, you can see the constraints on her ability to act due to old fashioned perceptions of propriety.  The film acknowledges the difficulties of being a woman in a dangerous profession in a way that other films of the time period do not, and never glamorizes it.  Even in the end, Turner doesn't become the typical action movie badass, and her path to empowerment is much rockier than those typically faced by her male movie counterparts.  There's also an argument to be made that others seeing her as some avatar of violent wish fulfillment ends up being deeply detrimental to her life and relationships.

The film's cast is fantastic, featuring a slew of familiar character actors, including Richard Jenkins, Louise Fletcher, Ron Silver, Tom Sizemore, Elizabeth Pena, and Clancy Brown - in one of his few roles that qualifies as a romantic lead.  And he's well paired with Curtis, in one of the more difficult, fascinating parts I've ever seen her play.  I so appreciate that "Blue Steel" is an adult drama that addresses the characters' sexuality in a fairly realistic way, and isn't afraid to incorporate it into the story.  The relationship between Curtis and Silver's characters is handled well, and given much more nuance than I expected.  

Bigelow made her name as an action director, with films like "Point Break," but "Blue Steel" eschews spectacle and big set pieces in favor of more intimate moments of violence.  And though occasionally stretching the limits of plausibility, this violence has just as much impact.  I love the final shot of the film, which is just Turner sitting in a police car, absorbing everything that's happened to her.  It's a good reminder that though Bigelow has been most consistently celebrated for her films about men, her films about women are just as impressive - though often overlooked.  

  

What I've Seen - Kathryn Bigelow

The Loveless (1981)

Near Dark (1987)

Blue Steel (1990)

Point Break (1991)

Strange Days (1995)

The Weight of Water (2000)

K-19: The Widowmaker (2002)

The Hurt Locker (2008)

Zero Dark Thirty (2012)

Detroit (2017)

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Nepo Baby Critical Mass

Well, The New Yorker wrote the article that I was trying to write, off and on, for a couple of years now, about nepotism in Hollywood - what it is, why everyone is mad about it, and why everyone is so mad  about it right now.  I figured I should throw in my two cents while they're still kinda relevant.

So, my take on the "nepo babies" (good grief, what a moniker) as far as the ones in acting go, is that they're inevitable, and actually kind of a fun phenomenon from an audience standpoint, even the bad ones.  I've got a pretty macroscopic view of Hollywood, and nepotism is absolutely not new in any respect.  We've had actors who are the kids of other famous actors as far back as Douglas Fairbanks Jr. and Lon Chaney Jr.  And that's understandable when such a big part of being a bankable star is what you look like and the relationship you can cultivate with an audience. 

Some degree of pushback is to be expected, as increased nepotism means fewer chances for everyone else trying to get into the entertainment industry.   You can absolutely get by for years being a mediocre actor with the right name, but to really be a success requires more.  Hollywood actually is a meritocracy when it comes to the really visible acting gigs that everyone wants, and audiences and critics are merciless if someone doesn't live up to expectations.  All of us can tell the difference between someone genuinely talented and charismatic, and, well, somebody's kid.  For every nepo baby who made it, there are just as many who didn't, who gave up after a few flops and had to move on to something else.

As a movie fan, tracing the nepo baby connections can be a source of nerdy joy.  Who hasn't had that moment of flabbergasted astonishment, when they learned that Nicolas Cage was actually born Nicolas Coppola, and is the nephew of director Francis Ford Coppola?  Or marveled that Maya Hawke's screen presence is a perfect combination of Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman?  As someone who watches a lot of old movies, I'm constantly finding the parents of future stars.  In "The Sting," for instance, I came across an older actor who sounded exactly like James Earl Jones - his father Robert Earl Jones, of course.  If you recognize a famous last name in the credits, there's a good chance it's not by accident. 

There's a lovely sort of irony in discovering an older actor's work through their kids.  Jane Birkin, Jill Clayburgh, Jayne Mansfield, Bruce Dern, John Mills, and Roy Kinnear all have actor offspring whose work I was familiar with first, before learning their parents were also celebrated actors a generation ago.  It's just like recognizing Michael Douglas is Kirk Douglas's son, only backwards.  Inevitably you run across the Barrymores, the Richardsons, the Carradines, the Bridges, and the Arquettes.  There are third and even fourth generation screen actors who are active now, with roots stretching all the way back to the silent era and vaudeville and beyond.  Acting is a much less disreputable profession than it used to be, so it's no wonder that these legacies are getting more common.

Still, most nepo babies aren't talented or tenacious enough to last in the entertainment industry for very long.  I suspect the majority of the prime targets of the current anti-nepotism wave are on their way out already.  It's a nasty business, especially when it involves younger kids, but their parents can't claim they didn't know what to expect.  However, when an actor with a legacy appears who does have an interesting screen presence, or who does display good acting chops, I guarantee that that's what you'll notice first.  Probably the best compliment that you can pay to someone like Zoey Deutch or Lewis Pullman is that you had no idea they were related to so-and-so.     

I'm purposely leaving out a lot of specifics and a lot of examples, because I have no wish to comment on any of the individual spats going on.  However, as usual, both sides have a point, however muddled or blown out of proportion.  There will always be nepo babies.  It's not fair.  Nepo babies will always get flack.  It's not fair.  I just hope that someone will come up with a better term soon, because I cannot keep a straight face reading about the "nepo baby" issue, let alone writing about it.

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Let Us "Do Revenge"

In the '90s, there was a brief, but memorable run of teen movies that took their plots from classic literature.  "Clueless" was "Emma," "10 Things I Hate About You" was "Taming of the Shrew," and "Cruel Intentions" was "Dangerous Liaisons," all set in high school.  So, naturally a throwback to these movies should follow their lead.  "Do Revenge," written and directed by Jennifer Kaytin Robinson, is very loosely based on Hitchcock's "Strangers on a Train," spruced up a bit for the age of social media, with a soundtrack full of '90s pop songs, and fashion choices that Cher Horowitz would die for.  

At the same time, "Do Revenge" is a very 2020s teen movie, featuring actors from a wide array of current teen franchises.  Our main character, Drea Torres, is played by Camila Mendes from "Riverdale."  Her boyfriend Max is Austin Abrams from "Euphoria," and bestie Tara is Alisha Boe from "13 Reasons Why."  And who is that new girl, Eleanor, soon to be Drea's partner in crime?  Maya Hawke, naturally, from "Stranger Things."  They all attend the ultra posh prep school, Rosehill, overseen by a lovely headmaster, who happens to be played by "Cruel Intentions" alum Sarah Michelle Gellar - none too subtly hinting where this story is going.  

Drea is the school's queen bee, until a leaked sex video brings her low.  Her boyfriend Max was probably responsible, but he's protected by seemingly impenetrable white male privilege, and Drea's angry retaliation against him just lands her in hot water.  Stewing in exile from her former social circle, Drea befriends the mousy Eleanor, who is not looking forward to starting at a new school with Carissa (Ava Capri), the girl who outed her as a lesbian and branded her a predator four years ago.  Drea sees an opportunity to use Eleanor to infiltrate her old friend group, and promises to help her ruin Carissa's life.  Will they become revenge besties together, or allow their bitterness to turn them against each other?

Everyone in this movie is status obsessed and identity conscious.  Drea is a person of color, which doesn't matter, but being a scholarship student with no money does.  She's gotten as far as she has by being very gifted and very vicious.  Max is a scumbag, but very good at playing up feminist ally bona fides, and has access to expensive lawyers in a pinch.  Initially, I was wary that the film would be entirely populated by amoral monsters, because I wasn't keen on rooting for any of them, but I think it's actually one of the film's strengths that it keeps you guessing about Drea's redeemability for so long.  Camila Mendes makes her hateable one minute, and admirable the next, sometimes for the exact same behavior.  It's not hard to see why lonely Eleanor is willing to let her take over her life and fashion choices.  Maya Hawke steals the movie, by the way, because of course she does.   

And after all, who can say no to a little revenge?  The machinations going on here are sometimes a little haphazardly executed, but the twists and turns are a lot of fun.  Rosehill is a heightened world where everyone is decked out in matching uniforms or ungodly expensive outfits, there's money for every imaginable extracurricular, and the students throw elaborate, hedonistic parties at the drop of a hat.  Drea and Eleanor's revenges are also beautifully deployed, amazingly timed events that will leave you cackling with glee at their cleverness and bitchiness.  It helps that the script is also very aware that Drea and Elenor are terrible, and they both have to face their demons in the end.

"Do Revenge" is a better looking production than most of the Netflix originals.  Sure, there's iffy editing here and there, and probably too much cribbed from other movies, but "Do Revenge" sells the fantasy of this opulent high school world where you can run everything if you're smart enough or rich enough.  The last couple of twists may be a bridge too far (I suspect there was originally a different ending), and some of the indulgences - like recreating the date sequence from "10 Things I Hate About You" - are a little too indulgent.  Still, I enjoyed "Do Revenge" like few movies this year.

And the great irony is, I wasn't much of a fan of '90s teen movies when I was actually the target audience for them.  It's only now, looking back, that I understand more of the appeal.

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"Pinocchio" and "My Father's Dragon"

I want to talk about Guillermo Del Toro's "Pinocchio" and Nora Twomey's "My Father's Dragon" together, since they're both recent adaptations of beloved children's literature.  Conveniently, they're also both animated films released by Netflix.  

I'm more familiar with the "My Father's Dragon" books, written by Ruth Stiles, and was looking forward to the first English language adaptation (a very faithful anime version was made in 1997).  What I got was much darker than I was expecting.  Elmer Elevator (Jacob Tremblay) is a little boy, who with his mother (Golshifteh Farahani), faces hard times when their shop is closed down and they're forced to move to a big city.  Elmer goes on an adventure to rescue a dragon named Boris (Gaten Matarazzo), who is being held captive by a group of animals, who want him to help save their sinking island.  Aside from Elmer going to rescue Boris and a few minor details, none of this has anything to do with the books.  On the one hand, I understand that Stiles' books only offered a very simple, uncomplicated adventure story with characters who were likewise very one-dimensional.  Additional material was absolutely to be expected for an adaptation.  Also, the books are over 70 years old, and needed some updating.

On the other hand, a story I loved for being charming and funny and endearing has been entirely subsumed by something much more complicated and serious and emotionally fraught.  Taken on its own, the "My Father's Dragon" movie is perfectly good children's entertainment.  The animation from Cartoon Saloon is lovely, the star studded cast delivers good performances, and the screenplay by Meg LeFauve is solid and clearly very well intentioned.  However, I just can't get over the extreme tonal change.  There have been other adaptations, like Wes Anderson's "Fantastic Mr. Fox," and Mark Osborne's "The Little Prince," that have taken children's stories in more adult directions without losing their whimsy and lightheartedness.  "My Father's Dragon" has been so fundamentally changed in adaptation, so burdened with manufactured gravitas that much of the joy has been sapped out of the story.  I eventually had to just think of the leads as entirely different characters to get through the movie.  

It was hard to explain why this bothered me so much until I saw Guillermo Del Toro's long awaited stop-motion animated "Pinocchio."  Del Toro also makes some significant changes to the original Carlo Collodi story.  The tone is now much darker, with the story set in Fascist Italy.  New themes and new motivations for many characters have been introduced, and the film begins with the Cricket (Ewan McGregor) introducing us to the woodcarver Gepetto (David Bradley) and his young son Carlo (Gregory Mann), who soon dies tragically.  In this version of "Pinocchio," a grieving Gepetto creates his living puppet boy son (also Mann) in a drunken frenzy, and struggles to parent him.  Further adventures include Pinocchio being conscripted into Mussolini's army, and multiple trips to the underworld to meet with Death (Tilda Swinton).  One of the new characters is a mistreated monkey, Spazzatura, who doesn't actually speak, but Cate Blanchette is still credited with voicing him.         

I've seen a lot of warnings being relayed to concerned parents that this version of "Pinocchio" is not for small children, but nothing here strikes me as especially inappropriate.  The business with the Fascists is only worrisome if you understand who the Fascists were, and Pinocchio can't die despite all the damage he suffers.  Furthermore, all of the adaptations of "Pinocchio" I've ever seen have had similar amounts of alarming imagery and troubling existential concepts.  Even the recent Robert Zemeckis version, despite watering down the content to the point of absurdity, couldn't entirely escape the story's dark, psychological underpinnings about parenthood, morality, and learning how to be a good person in a terrible world.  

In short, Guillermo Del Toro's "Pinocchio" may be darker than most adaptations, but it's very true to the spirit of the original work.  The stop-motion animation, featuring wonderfully intricate puppets and a gorgeous production design, is a touch rougher than what we see out of Aardman or Laika.  It has a very handmade feel that fits perfectly with the ephemeral, but often monstrous nature of the characters.  The story wisely doesn't foreground its more adult content, sticking to the basic formula of Pinocchio getting into trouble, over and over, and having to deal with the consequences.  It helps that this Pinocchio is very much a bratty child at first, and only becomes a selfless hero over time.  There are plenty of funny moments to balance out the intensity, and the most profound bits of the script are often in throwaway dialogue you might miss if you're not paying attention.

My only real complaint about "Pinocchio" is that there are a few songs in the first half that feel mostly perfunctory.  Otherwise, it's clear this was Del Toro's passion project and he didn't compromise an inch.        

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