Pinocchio par Guillermo del Toro

Geppetto's carved and chiselled a new son, replacing Carlo who was tragically taken, made from fine Italian pine, dovetailed, screwed and fixed with twine, just imagine his surprise when he awakens; as a Wood Sprite's taken pity on this fellow, who's sorrow, grief and sadness make him bellow, taken all internal strife, the grain now imbued full of life, though he won't age, he might just season, but never grow (except for an inbuilt polygraph). A cricket helps, to make sharp edges round, untying knots that seek to limit and to bound, but there's danger in the town, someone else would like to own, it's not too long before Pinocchio's has gone; whisked away, by the unscrupulous Count Volpe, who's recognised a fortuitous, new pay day, a puppet without strings, will make his tills ka-ching and ring, with some swindling alongside a small betray.

A dark and tenebrous retelling of the tale of the wooden boy that introduces some additional tangents and places it during the turbulent times of war and conflict. Great animation, some great dialogue, only tarnished by the fact that it's a perpetually told story, and you know what familiarity invariably brings (if you're of a certain age).