Pinocchio: Unstrung (2026) - Twisted Tale Review

Forget everything you know about the little wooden boy who just wanted to become real. In the twisted new horror film Pinocchio: Unstrung, that wish comes true in the most nightmarish way imaginable. Released on July 22, this 82-minute fever dream from director Rhys Frake-Waterfield - the madman behind the equally unhinged Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey - has carved out a bloody niche for itself in the "public domain horror" renaissance, and audiences can't stop talking about it.

The premise is gloriously deranged. Geppetto, played with gruff menace by Richard Brake, doesn't just build a puppet out of lonely affection. He builds a son. But when Pinocchio (voiced with unnerving innocence by Jude Evan Lloyd) learns that his "brother" James (Cameron Bell) is the real, flesh-and-blood son Geppetto always wanted, something snaps. Influenced by a sinister, whispery Cricket - voiced by none other than horror icon Robert Englund, Freddy Krueger himself - Pinocchio decides that the only way to become a real boy is to carve himself into one. One piece at a time. And if he needs to carve up a few other people to do it? Well, that's just part of the craft.

The genius of Pinocchio: Unstrung lies in its relentless, nightmarish logic. This isn't a slow-burn psychological thriller; it's a manic, chainsaw-in-the-toybox slasher that wears its absurdity on its sleeve. The film's central conceit - that Pinocchio is "upgrading" himself by harvesting body parts from victims to achieve humanity - is gross, silly, and weirdly creative. Frake-Waterfield clearly understands that the key to this genre is commitment. He never winks at the camera. The film treats Pinocchio's wooden crusade with stone-cold seriousness, which makes the carnage all the more entertaining.

The visual design deserves a special shoutout. The practical effects are gloriously goopy, blending the puppet's smooth wood with the grotesque, stitched-together flesh he accumulates. Lloyd's vocal work is the film's secret weapon. He manages to sound like a terrified child one moment and a hollow, predatory automaton the next, keeping the audience off-balance. And Englund's Cricket is pure icing on the nightmare cake. His voice slithers through the film, offering "guidance" that is less Jiminy and more infernal. It’s a performance that feels like a masterclass in villainous voice-over, giving constant commentary that makes you feel as trapped in the fairy tale as Pinocchio is.

But let's talk about the elephant in the nursery: this is a movie where a beloved children's character commits violent acts. It’s not for the faint of heart, but for those raised on a steady diet of slasher flicks and internet memes, it’s pure catharsis. The film leans into the weirdness of its "shared universe," even casting Scott Chambers as a scarred-up Christopher Robin, a sly nod to the larger Pooh-verse of films. It creates a strange, cohesive mythology where all our childhood icons are just a few bad days away from becoming serial killers.

Visually, Frake-Waterfield has grown as a director. The grimy, low-budget aesthetic of his past work has been exchanged for a more polished, shadowy atmosphere. The woods around Geppetto's workshop feel claustrophobic, and the "unstrung" moments - when Pinocchio violently tears apart his own limbs to reattach them to fresh flesh - are shot with a distorted, Cronenberg-esque body-horror flair. The mystery element also creeps in through James and his friends (including a standout turn from Jack Art Gray as Dudley), who spend the runtime trying to understand why the local kids are disappearing. It’s a nice narrative hook that gives the film a b-movie monster-movie skeleton under the blood.

With a TMDb score of 7.1/10, Pinocchio: Unstrung isn't just a cult curiosity; it’s a crowd-pleaser in its own twisted way. Critics have been divided, but the audience response has been enthusiastic, with many praising its unapologetic weirdness in an era of safe, formulaic horror. Jessica Balmer’s Mia provides a solid, unhinged energy as the film’s final girl energy, screaming with a believable ferocity that matches the film’s tone.

Is Pinocchio: Unstrung a masterpiece? No. Is it a gloriously unhinged, blood-soaked trip that delivers exactly what its title promises? Absolutely. It’s the kind of movie you put on with a group of friends, popcorn in hand, ready to shout at the screen. It knows what it is, leans into it, and doesn't stop carving until the credits roll. If you’re tired of haunted dolls that just whisper ghostly provocations, check out the puppet who actually does the carving himself. You won't forget it. Just maybe don’t watch it with your kids.