Pinocchio in a scene from “Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio, which was largely made in Portland.

In a strange twist, three films about a little wooden puppet brought to life have been released this year. They saved the best for last.

The first in this string of adaptations was a rudimentary Russian 3D animated film called “Pinocchio: A True Story,” featuring in its English dubbed version the voice of Pauly Shore as the titular puppet. It currently has a Letterboxd rating of 1.3 stars out of 5, and a 3.9 out of 10 on IMDB. The second was the much more ambitious and higher budgeted “Pinocchio” from Robert Zemeckis. It follows the Disney trend of remaking its beloved animated classics with a live-action cast and has an abysmal 27% rating on Rotten Tomatoes.

And finally, we have the most dynamic, emotional and charged retelling of the Carlo Collodi book, “Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio,” masterfully done by one of the most visionary directors of the modern era. Guillermo del Toro joins co-director Mark Gustafson and Portland animation studio ShadowMachine to bring their own version of this classic story to life using stop-animation so well done, so seamless, that at times you forget it’s not traditional animation.

For this Netflix Original, del Toro also shares script duties with Patrick McHale. Together, they weave the standard fairy tale with deeper themes of grief, love, war, independence and fascism.

Set in Italy between the 1910s and 1940s, “Pinocchio” begins with the simple and heartwarming story of the woodworker Geppetto (voiced by David Bradley) and his young son, Carlo (voiced by Gregory Mann). Sebastian J. Cricket (Ewan McGregor) narrates, informing us within the first few moments that Carlo dies because of the Great War. But before that happens, we see a father and son happily living their lives in a quaint Italian village, even the townsfolk commenting that Geppetto is a model father and a model Italian citizen.

However, their happy life is upturned when a bomb lands on the town church Carlo had run into moments before.

Geppetto is inconsolable. He turns to drink and gives up his craft due to this sorrow.

Years pass, and soon Sebastian, the world-traveling cricket, moves into a tree growing next to Carlo’s grave. Fueled by booze and anger, Geppetto chops down the tree and begins to make a boy puppet out of the timber. His creation is rough and incomplete and Geppetto passes out before he can finish.

That night, the haunting wood sprite (Tilda Swinton), who has been watching Geppetto these long years, enchants the wooden boy, giving him life in order to love and console his heartbroken maker.

Pinocchio (also voiced by Mann) is a ball of energy, full of wonder and lust for the life he has been given. As for his maker, he is a little less enthusiastic about this highly excitable anthropomorphized wood, especially when the locals get a good look at him, including Podesta (Ron Perlman) the director of the local fascist youth group.

The story follows many of the original plot points, including Pinocchio’s being led to the circus by the shady, foxlike Count Volpe (Christoph Waltz) and Geppetto and Sebastian’s encounter with a gargantuan sea creature. But there’s also a mix of even more supernatural elements, including Pinocchio’s apparent immortality, and political ones, such as the constant, growing presence of fascism. On that point, del Toro, who has included elements of European fascism in other films, doesn’t gloss over it. Instead, he makes it a main sticking point, highlighting the difference between this living puppet who has more independence than the fascist crowds for whom he performs.

One of the great things about this particular adaptation is the animation style at work. While it is quite a bit gnarlier and darker than what viewers might be used to, each character looks as if it’s been carved from wood as well, most with severe and angular lines, save for our main trio who have more organic, warm shapes.

Del Toro and McHale’s script includes a few whimsical songs to highlight this fable. There are no earworms such as a standard musical might have, but they’re enough to marinate this world with the magic it richly deserves.

The voice cast, too, is well matched, with Bradley’s gravelly, earthen voice providing a brilliant contrast to Mann’s high-pitched adolescent, and McGregor’s more melodic tones grounding Geppetto among the fantastical elements.

“Gillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio” is far darker and more emotionally driven than other adaptations, but it’s that much better for it. It feels fresh while still linking to its roots, eerie yet hopeful, tragic yet joyous. You can feel this labor of love from the production team in every frame, making it transcend above the stream of rehashes we’ve had this year.

On screens this week: James Cameron finally delivers to theaters his long-awaited sequel “Avatar: The Way of Water,” and on Netflix you can catch the latest from Alejandro G. Iñárritu: “Bardo: False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths.”

“Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio”

117 minutes

Rated PG for dark thematic material, violence, peril, some rude humor and brief smoking.

4 stars