Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio vs. Disney: What Are the Differences?

Ironically, the new film was also released in the same year as Disney’s own update of the 1940 film, a much less surprising (or interesting) retread from the studio’s live-action remake factory, albeit “live-action” is a bit of a misnomer this time. While Tom Hanks is definitely playing Geppetto in the flesh and blood, he is acting against mostly computer-generated animations, including a picture-perfect recreation of old Walt’s Pinocchio from 1940.

Still, how do these three movies intersect and how do they differ? How does del Toro break away from what came before… and where does he intriguingly intersect with choices Disney also made in its 2022 update that had director Robert Zemeckis at the helm? Well, dear reader, keep scrolling and we’ll unpack exactly how they differ, as well as when they surprisingly converge.

What Is Pinocchio to Gepetto?

Perhaps the biggest change from the lore surrounding Pinocchio—both onscreen and in the original Italian text—is something del Toro and Zemeckis’ 2022 adaptations wound up agreeing on: Geppetto makes Pinocchio not because he is a simple toymaker, a la the 1940 film, or a puppeteer as in the 1883 book, but because he is grieving the loss of a son who lived before Pinocchio.

This motivation, however, feels twee and thin in the Disney live-action remake. It’s a meager ledge from which Hanks’ natural gravitas is left to grip while developing a motivation for the toymaker. Now he’s a sweetly sad old-timer who vaguely mourns a lost son. That lad’s loss is also kept similarly vague and gentle during one tacked on song. Otherwise, nothing about the loss of a child informs the Geppetto of Disney’s newest Pinocchio.

By contrast, Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio begins not with Pinocchio or even the talking cricket who narrates the story (more on him in a bit). Rather it starts with a long prologue that lingers on the loss felt by Geppetto, who is voiced with a wounded cantankerousness by David Bradley. We learn during extended, melancholic flashbacks that Geppeto’s son was named Carlo (likely an homage to the writer who created the Pinocchio character) and he was an idyllic youth who grew up during harsh times in the waning days of the First World War. Even young Carlo’s most innocent distractions, such as riding a swing in the forest, is sullied by the sight of bomber planes above.

Eventually, Carlo dies tragically during a bombing raid that destroys a nearby church. All that’s left of the ruins is Christ on a Cross. As a consequence, Bradley’s Geppetto is animated as falling down the bottom of a bottle, spending every day for more than 10 years at Carlo’s gravesite with nondescript liquor in hand.