Guillermo del Toro is at it again, and this time, he’s diving into a project that feels both audacious and deeply personal. His upcoming adaptation of Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Buried Giant has me intrigued—not just because it’s a stop-motion film for adults, but because it’s a story that demands to be told in a way that only del Toro could envision. Personally, I think this is a bold move, especially after the success of Pinocchio, which proved that stop-motion can be a powerful medium for mature storytelling. But The Buried Giant feels different—it’s not just about technical mastery; it’s about capturing the essence of a tale that’s as much about memory and loss as it is about fantasy.
One thing that immediately stands out is del Toro’s insistence on making this a stop-motion film. In his own words, he wants ‘all the creatures to be of the same material,’ which, if you take a step back and think about it, is a brilliant way to maintain the story’s authenticity. Live-action, with its uncanny valley pitfalls, would have felt disjointed. What makes this particularly fascinating is how del Toro is using the medium not just as a stylistic choice but as a narrative tool. Stop-motion, with its tactile, handcrafted nature, mirrors the fragility and impermanence of memory—a central theme in Ishiguro’s novel.
What many people don’t realize is how challenging this project truly is. Del Toro himself described it as ‘fascinatingly difficult,’ and I can see why. Adapting a story about an elderly couple navigating a post-Arthurian landscape filled with trolls and fairies is no small feat. It’s not just about animating puppets; it’s about breathing life into a world where memory is a luxury. This raises a deeper question: Can a film about forgetting be unforgettable? I believe del Toro is up to the task, but it’s going to take years—and that’s part of what makes it so compelling.
A detail that I find especially interesting is the collaboration with Dennis Kelly, known for Matilda the Musical. On the surface, it seems like an odd pairing, but if you think about it, Kelly’s ability to blend whimsy with emotional depth could be exactly what The Buried Giant needs. What this really suggests is that del Toro is building a team that understands the delicate balance between fantasy and humanity—something he’s always excelled at.
From my perspective, The Buried Giant is more than just another del Toro project; it’s a continuation of his lifelong exploration of themes like memory, identity, and the passage of time. His previous work, like Frankenstein, tackled similar ideas, though I’d argue it didn’t fully land. While Frankenstein was visually stunning and ambitious, it felt uneven—a film that demanded patience. But even in its imperfections, it showed what happens when a filmmaker is given the freedom to pursue their vision. The Buried Giant, however, feels like a more focused endeavor, one that could distill del Toro’s strengths into something truly transcendent.
What this project also highlights is the growing acceptance of animation as a medium for adult storytelling. For too long, animation has been pigeonholed as ‘just for kids,’ but del Toro, along with other visionaries, is proving that it can tackle complex, mature themes. In my opinion, this is a cultural shift worth celebrating—one that opens up new possibilities for storytelling.
Finally, the inclusion of Ron Perlman, del Toro’s longtime collaborator, adds a layer of nostalgia. Perlman’s presence feels like a nod to del Toro’s roots, a reminder of where he started. It’s a small detail, but it speaks to the director’s loyalty and his ability to create a sense of continuity in his work.
If you take a step back and think about it, The Buried Giant is not just a film—it’s a statement. It’s del Toro saying, ‘I’m not here to play it safe. I’m here to push boundaries, to challenge audiences, and to tell stories that linger long after the credits roll.’ And that, in my opinion, is what makes this project so exciting. It’s not just about what’s on the screen; it’s about what it leaves behind in our minds.
In the end, The Buried Giant might take years to complete, and it might be ‘incredibly difficult,’ as del Toro puts it. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from his career, it’s that the most rewarding art is often the hardest to create. Personally, I can’t wait to see what he uncovers in this buried world.
