Reviewing: The Toy Story Franchise
Ever since 1995, Woody and Buzz have been there for us. Through crazy neighbours, evil collectors, and a handful of bitter crime toy lords, they've consistently taken us on heartfelt and dazzling journeys that brought a new kind of animation into the spotlight. As one of the leading animated franchises to date with over three billion dollars in box office revenue alone, there are few people in North America who haven't heard of two of the most famous toys in history. Let's jump right in!
Toy Story (*****)
In which a children's guardian in danger of demotion is charged with manslaughter and then has to find his replacement in order to clear his own name
Game-changing, breathtaking, and history-making, Toy Story is the ‘Snow White’ of our generation that took us to a new infinity and beyond.
Toy Story was the first full-length computer-animated film in history, which would’ve been a colossal achievement even if the movie had tanked. The fact that it’s become a cultural phenomenon inspiring three sequels (so far), three(ish) television shows, seven short films, and a themed land at Disney World is just icing on the cake. The simple fact of the matter is that this is a virtually perfect movie. Every single thing that this movie attempts to do, it does with finesse and effortless ease – as if this were the hundredth computer animated film and not literally the very first. It’s astounding what a leap forward this film was for its time, and though the animation is at times clearly limited by the constraints of 90s tech, it’s remarkable how beautiful the movie ended up being. I don’t know what anyone could possibly have against this film.
Woody and Buzz are a duo for the ages, and I think a big part of that has to do with how emblematic they are of the changing animation landscape that they were a part of. Toy Story is about a guy from yesterday meeting a guy of tomorrow, and the two of them having to work together to achieve a common goal. By the time Toy Story was released, the Western as a genre had certainly seen the end of its heyday. Cowboys hadn’t been ‘the thing’ for a while, especially since Star Wars had come around and sent everyone’s imaginations galloping after black holes instead of red sunsets. Buzz Lightyear, a space man in every sense of the phrase, was (and my opinion, still is) the world’s coolest toy. Beyond having more functions and gadgets than Woody, he was also a character from a more relevant genre. It’s no wonder Andy liked Buzz better.
See, Disney was Woody, and Pixar was Buzz. Disney had been the most popular thing for decades, but along came Pixar to absolutely blow traditional animation out of the water. It wasn’t that space men were certifiably cooler than cowboys any more than computer animation is any cooler than traditional animation – it was simply a matter of the context of the time. Buzz – Pixar – was NEW, and for the time being, that’s what mattered. Maybe that’s part of why Woody – Disney – couldn’t stand the new guy. Many of the guys behind Toy Story had been pushing for computer animation for years, only to have Disney’s old guard scoff at them. Just as Woody declares, “They’ll see. I’m still Andy’s favourite toy,” Disney didn’t put much stock in computer animation until Toy Story came around. And once it took off, it was one of the biggest indicators that traditional animation was going the way of the dodo bird. Bob Iger admitted in his biography that Pixar quickly overshadowed Disney in terms of parent’s admiration. Woody got pushed to the side in a matter of weeks – but for Disney, it was a process lasting years.
What’s great about Buzz & Woody or Pixar & Disney is the way things ended up for them. Instead of becoming bitter rivals (which would’ve been a sorry ending for Andy), they decided to learn from each other, embracing a new status quo where cooperation took the place of conflict. Disney and Pixar had some growing pains in the years following Toy Story, but in the end they found a solution where they remained creatively independent of each other and yet collaborative in their resources and strategies. I love how Woody helped Buzz find his identity as a child’s plaything, and how Buzz helped Woody remember his job to be there for Andy when he needs him. It’s a great story made even more intriguing by its relevance to its creators.
I can’t write about Toy Story without highlighting Randy Newman’s soundtrack. Apparently Disney was pushing Pixar to make the film a musical, and the compromise was that there’d be non-diegetic music to move the story along at points. In retrospect, it’s hard to picture Toy Story as a musical. Newman’s songs do a great job of summing up the emotions of the characters. “You’ve Got A Friend In Me” has become one of those songs that could never be overplayed. “Strange Things” and “I Will Go Sailing No More” aren’t engrained in the mind of the public the same way, but they’re great songs regardless. Buzz’s attempt to fly out the window is remarkably poignant when it could’ve just as easily been played for a laugh. Music like this has seemed to fade from the franchise over time, but that shouldn’t indicate that the music was the weakest part of the film. If anything, it’s one of its most enduring elements.
Toy Story captures a dream that all kids have and makes it not only real but insanely fun. Every character is a blast, and the story hasn’t aged a day over twenty years later. With Tom Hanks and Tim Allen on center stage and a masterful team of pioneering animators behind them, Toy Story is a record-breaking hit.
Toy Story 2 (*****)
In which a handful of toys somehow drive a luggage cart from an airport to a residential neighbourhood without incident
It’s every bit the masterpiece that its predecessor was – heartfelt, hilarious, and beautiful from beginning to end.
Toy Story 2 was not an easy film to make. Initially intended as a direct-to-video sequel, it was a topic of discussion as to whether or not the film was even going to be computer animated. There was talk of doing it traditionally – and if you’ve seen even a few of Disney’s DTV films, you’ll know just how cataclysmic a decision that would’ve been. Later, two years’ worth of work was accidentally deleted by an animator, losing 90% of what they’d created thus far. The backup files had been corrupted as well. The movie was only saved by the technical director, who had made backups of the film at home for her children’s entertainment. Many of the animators developed carpal tunnel syndrome or repetitive strain injuries from the amount of work that they were doing, and one animator was so stressed by the load that he forgot his baby in the backseat of his car (thankfully, the baby was quickly rescued). It sounds like the kind of environment you find in a university library during exam season. The fact, then, they made such an astounding product in the midst of such stress is testament to the skill and dedication of Pixar’s team.
One of the best things about the Toy Story franchise is that each film works as a completely standalone story, but they still connect thematically and foreshadow/reference each other. In the original movie, Woody calls Buzz “Lightbeer” and “Light Snack” to make fun of him. But here when the Prospector says “Buzz Lightweight can’t save you”, Woody angrily retorts, “His name is Buzz Lightyear!” It’s just a throwaway line, but it shows us how far Woody and Buzz have come since the first film. This film also starts to explore a natural question that might have surfaced from the original – what are toys supposed to do once their kid’s all grown up? Obviously we delve into that more deeply in Toy Story 3, but here we get to tackle that question pre-emptively. Jessie’s story – and her song – are beautiful and heartbreaking, showing us what it’s like for a toy to get left behind. Not only does it add so much to this film in terms of character development, it sets us up for the third film when Jessie’s reality comes to the rest of the toys. But in spite of all of these thematic ties to what’s before and what’s ahead, Toy Story 2 still stands on its own. It’s a story of a character questioning his place in the world in the face of a new opportunity, in much the same way that Spider-Man 2 gave us a Peter Parker who wanted a life of his own.
Incredibly, the new characters are just as exciting as the ones we fell in love with the first time around. Mrs. Potato Head, Jessie, and Bullseye stand out as instantly lovable, but Rex, Slinky, Hamm and Bo Peep haven’t diminished. It’s thrilling seeing all of these hysterical characters clash and cooperate. And that’s not even mentioning the bad guys – Zurg in particular stealing the show from the actual bad guy Stinky Pete. The Chicken Man looked a lot more lifelike than Andy and his Mom did in the original film, and the scene where he burped on Woody felt so grotesquely real that it still cracks me up every time. They absolutely nailed that moment. Beyond the strength of the characters, the music is once again firing on all cylinders. Randy Newman’s musical interludes in the last film really helped us understand the hearts of the characters, just as “When She Loved Me” does this time around. But one thing that I really appreciated in this film musically was the motifs that they included in the score. There’s hints of “You Got A Friend In Me” here and there – and it pops up in Woody’s TV show which was pretty cool – and the music that played during “Woody’s Finest Hour” ended up playing again when he was on his way to rescue Jessie. I really liked that bit.
This was a triumph of a sequel and another home run for Pixar – and it set the stage for one of the most excellent threequels in history. But we’ll get to that later.
Toy Story 3 (*****)
In which Pixar honestly convinced me for a second that they were going to let their most famous characters burn to death
It’s not just the pinnacle of Pixar storytelling. It just might be the greatest threequel of all time.
I was one of many kids who grew up with Andy. If you were born between 1990 and 1995 like me, you would’ve had the chance to be a kid right when Andy was a kid. You would’ve been approaching or just passing your transition out of high school when Toy Story 3 came out in 2010. Not only that, but you would’ve had to wait 11 years between Toy Story 2 and 3. There’s something about the passing of time when it comes to storytelling that just can’t be replicated. Binging a show is not the same as following it week to week, and I feel honoured that I got to experience the Toy Story trilogy in much the same way that Andy himself experienced it. When that first trailer for this film came out, my jaw and the jaws of all my friends dropped. Not only were we overjoyed to see Buzz and Woody again, but we were also terrified. Because we realized that like Andy, we had left our toys behind. That trailer was a promise that Jessie’s worst fear was coming back – and that was an insane thing to suddenly think about for the first time in over a decade.
I’d like to say that the pressure was on for Pixar, but honestly at this point I had little doubt that they were going to knock it out of the park. The animation in the trailer looked stellar, and it was clear that the storytellers were just as ambitious and gutsy as ever. I just didn’t know how far they were going to take it. By the time the credits began to roll in the theater on opening night, I had laughed a lot, cried a lot, and I was profoundly moved. Sure, Pixar had done it again. But they’d also done the impossible. They’d created the perfect cinematic trilogy. The closest thing to it would be Lord of the Rings in terms of consistent quality from beginning to end, but what gives Toy Story an edge is its all-ages appeal AND the fact that EVERY film in the trilogy can stand on its own feet. The Two Towers viewed in isolation doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. You can’t say that about any of the Toy Story films.
I can’t think of a single moment – let alone a single scene – that doesn’t fire on all cylinders in this film. The opening sequence is an absolute joyride of imagination, followed by the nostalgia-fueled “You’ve Got A Friend In Me” segment that couldn’t have ended on a more narratively exciting note. To take a song we all know as well as our own pillows and suddenly twist the line “our friendship will never die” in a whole new light – that was a moment so good that I don’t know if it could ever be replicated. Then there’s the joy and terror of Sunnyside, the familiar but fresh warmth of Bonnie's house, and the abject despair of the garbage dump. There are no words for how bleak that moment was. It was incredible.
I've watched this film many times, but there was something that I noticed this time around that I somehow overlooked many times before. Obviously, the moment where Andy gives away all of his toys is incredibly poignant and heartfelt. And I always thought that the scene was about Andy's ability to leave childhood behind in a way that encouraged the childhood of someone else. But somehow, I had never noticed before that Woody put himself in the box with the other toys. Woody had the chance to go with Andy to college - and all Woody wants to do is be there for Andy when he needs him. But Woody knew deep down that Andy was grown up now. He knew that his job was done - and to hold on to Andy now wouldn't have been good for either of them. So he actually went AGAINST Andy in moving from the box in which he was placed to the box that held Woody's friends - and in doing so, he gave Andy that final nudge he needed to move on. Woody didn't move to that box out of selfishness. It's actually the most unselfish thing he's done in the entire trilogy. He's let Andy go, and he's given Andy the nudge he needed to do the same. Wow.
Stunningly animated. Beautifully written. Packed with incredible voice actors old and new (Barbie and Ken KILL IT). All of these make Toy Story 3 great - but what makes it Pixar's best is the fact that it embraces its own lesson. There comes a time when we must let a good thing go. Toy Story 3 concludes on a note that absolutely cements the franchise as the ultimate cinematic trilogy. Thank you, Pixar.
I mean, yeah, Toy Story 4 came later, but still.
And seriously, Spanish Buzz is iconic.
Toy Story 4 (****1/2)
In which Woody never gives up on you unless Bo Peep is involved
It’s the film we were afraid to ask for – and it serves as a poignant, near-perfect epilogue to the Toy Story trilogy.
Toy Story 3 may just be the greatest conclusion to a film trilogy ever. One of the most wonderful – and most difficult – things that a story can do is end. But Toy Story 3 did it, and it did it with a finesse that was almost impossible to even comprehend. It took us through the complete journey of Andy’s relationship with his favourite toys, and ended on a high note by passing the toys on to a new owner. It seemed like the perfect place to shut the book.
Was it money that inspired Pixar to drag our heroes back into the spotlight? On the surface, that seems the most obvious explanation. The franchise has earned Pixar over three billion dollars, after all. But John Lasseter didn’t mention money when asked about this fourquel. “Toy Story 3 ended Woody and Buzz’s story with Andy so perfectly that for a long time, [Pixar] never even talked about doing another Toy Story movie,” He said during an investor’s call in 2014. “But when Andrew, Pete, Lee and I came up with this new idea, I just could not stop thinking about it.” Regardless of the motive, a film treatment had been put together by himself, Andrew Stanton, Pete Docter, and Lee Unkrich – all hugely significant names to the Toy Story franchise and to Pixar as a whole. The script went through a number of significant changes as it changed hands – Parks and Rec vet Rashida Jones was once signed on as a writer, as was Ratatouille’s Galyn Susman. Part of the reason for this turnover had to do with Lasseter’s fall from grace after allegations of sexual misconduct. Regardless of the turmoil, however, the gears kept turning – and Toy Story 4 eventually came to fruition in 2019 – nine years after its predecessor.
In my review of “Incredibles 2”, I lamented the fact that the writers picked the story up exactly where they’d left off 14 years ago. Comparing the time gap between films to other major franchises, I noted how a time span this long usually means the story will pick up after a time jump of its own. Nine years is a long time to wait for a follow-up. On one hand, Toy Story 4 does the same thing Incredibles 2 did in the sense that it hits the ground only a half-step ahead of its predecessor. The thing that makes this forgivable is that there’s such a tonal difference between Toy Story 3 and 4, where Incredibles 2 didn’t feel to me like it was breaking new ground. Toy Story 3 feels like a climax from beginning to end, and Toy Story 4 feels wandering and lost (and I mean that in a good way, but we’ll get to that later). The world of the franchise has changed dramatically since the last film, so even though it seems like only a few weeks or months have passed, it feels fresh enough to be exciting. For Incredibles 2, it was the same world, the same day – the same second. That’s what I think held it down. But hey, we’re here to talk about Toy Story.
Toy Story was about remembering your purpose – Woody had become too attached to being ‘the favourite’ and Buzz was living in a fantasy world. Both characters found (or regained) their purpose in being there for Andy. Toy Story 2 was technically about the same thing – Woody was afraid of being forgotten entirely, and Jessie was traumatized by having lived through that exact experience. Both problems were resolved by (again) being there for Andy. Toy Story 3 broke new ground by focusing on how to find new purpose when you’ve lost the old. Andy didn’t need Buzz and Woody anymore, but that didn’t make them useless. Woody found new purpose by admitting his old purpose was complete. To an extent, Toy Story 4 continues that train of thought – and it does it very explicitly. When Woody is retelling his past adventures to the new toy Forky, Forky remarks that Woody feels like his purpose is fulfilled. Woody isn’t able to throw himself into his ‘work’ with Bonnie like he did with Woody. Something about it feels different – like he’s already finished his job. It’s interesting how they went in this direction, because it’s the perfect thing to talk about after having completed a trilogy like the one Pixar had made. After telling a story as great as 1, 2, and 3, what more is there to say? What could 4 possibly accomplish? Well, as it turns out, the film sets out to answer that very question. What do you do when your job is done?
Woody feels lost for much of the film, and it starts right away when he realizes that Dolly is the ‘sheriff’ of Bonnie’s room. Where he used to be the leader, now he’s kind of like assistant to the regional manager. Dolly views him as her go-to guy for anything to do with Rex, Slinky, and the other toys Andy donated – but that’s it. So that aspect of his character has dried up. Further, he’s not Bonnie’s favourite toy like he was for Andy. He cares about Bonnie for sure, but it’s clear that he’s not in the spotlight anymore. It’s not until Forky enters the picture that Woody finds some sense of direction. It becomes apparent to him that Forky is Bonnie’s favourite toy – so he sets his mind on making sure Forky fulfills that responsibility.
The first time I watched that scene where Forky and Woody are walking along the side of the highway, I thought a lot about people in ministerial or educational positions. Think about a teacher or a children’s pastor who retires – or in a broader sense, think about empty nesters. Parents who have spent two decades or so of their lives suddenly see their kids leave, and there’s this big gap that hits them all of a sudden. What do I do now? Particularly for someone who’s passionate about their work, it can feel aimless to suddenly be out of that career. I think that’s what Woody’s feeling in this scene. He’s been the favourite toy/leader for so long that leaving that behind makes him feel off-course. He knows he can’t go back to Andy, and he knows that he’ll never be for Bonnie what he was to Andy. His next steps are painfully uncertain.
Here’s what I love about Woody’s path. On the surface, it might appear to some like Woody accepts his status as ‘lost’ or that he gives up on his dreams by the end of the film. But what Woody actually does is find a new purpose. He’s not devoting his life to making a child happy – he’s devoting his life to making children happy. Throughout the film, we see him equip Forky and Gabby Gabby to be there for their kids. Not only does Woody consistently push Forky (physically) into position, he educates and inspires the spork to do the job well. When it comes to Gabby, Woody makes a profound (slightly horrific) sacrifice in order to give her a chance to be loved. Woody is exceptionally self-sacrificing in this film, and it’s all in order to equip the ‘next generation’ of toys. Even in the end credits, Woody is helping other toys find owners. In a very real sense, he’s moved up in the world. The teacher becomes the principal – equipping teachers to equip kids. The children’s pastor becomes the bible college professor. The parent becomes the grandparent. Woody hasn’t become lost – he’s just found a new calling, and I think that’s awesome. It’s a reminder that we’re more than we think we are. Whatever your purpose might be right now won’t necessarily be the purpose you’ll have in ten years. We grow, we change, and we learn. As hard as it may be for us to accept, that’s what Woody’s doing here.
If you’re not convinced, it’s probably because of the bumps in the road that occurred in this film. For one thing, it’s hard to view Woody’s sacrifice as a beautiful moment because it felt an awful lot like a deal with the devil. Gabby Gabby never did anything explicitly violent or anything that put our character’s in harm’s way; that said, she’s creepy. Her minions are creepy too – and even if they weren’t, they’re still minions. She also kidnapped Forky and essentially held him for ransom. The film tried to reframe her as a victim in the third act, but let’s face it. She’s a bad guy. Woody giving up his voice box isn’t strictly speaking an act of goodwill to give Gabby a chance. It’s really a trade to get Forky back, which in a lot of ways feels like giving one of your organs to get your kid returned to you. It was a hefty price to pay, and Woody is certainly under duress when he pays it. That whole segment was just plain unsettling, as symbolic as it may have been.
Then there’s the fact that Woody is leaving ‘his kid’ behind. In each Toy Story film so far, Woody has remained committed to his kid. Sure, Toy Story 3 showed us Woody intentionally going against Andy’s wishes by putting himself in the donation box, but he did that for Andy. Andy himself said, “The thing that makes Woody special is that he’ll never give up on you. Ever.” It’s hard to see how Woody isn’t giving up on Bonnie. Sure, Buzz gives him the go-ahead by saying “Bonnie will be okay” – and she definitely will – but at the very least, Woody is entrusting Bonnie to someone other than himself. I’m not sure how to argue that that’s not ‘giving up on her’. If I was teaching a student and then had that student moved to another class, that’s giving up. If the student graduates, that’s a different story. So maybe that’s the way the writers felt that Woody was off the hook.
But Woody isn’t just leaving Bonnie behind here – and from the discussions I’ve had with people about this film, Bonnie’s the least of their concerns. The big thing is that Woody’s saying goodbye to Jessie, Bullseye, Slinky, Rex, Hamm, the Potato Heads – and Buzz Lightyear himself. Buzz and Woody are a duo for the ages. The way they’ve fought against and for each other throughout this franchise has been so compelling from beginning to end. But here, Buzz and Woody’s relationship really gets sidelined in favour of highlighting Woody’s relationship with Bo Peep. We’ll get to Bo Peep in a second, but the way that Woody and Buzz’s friendship ended with really only a handful of words and a hug seemed a bit anticlimactic – maybe even unfair – considering the amazing journey they’ve been on together. Woody is the one who taught Buzz to be there for his kid, and now Buzz is the one helping Woody let go. Something in that feels poetic, but I couldn’t help but feel like Woody and Buzz deserved a better farewell to each other than the one they got.
Buzz and the other Andy-veterans play an even smaller role in this film than they have in the past, which might be an unspeakable crime if it weren’t for the great characters that fill out the screen time. Duke Kaboom was a real riot, and Key and Peele’s Ducky and Fluffy added so much energy to the film. Their “plush rush” segment had me weeping in the theater, and it still cracked me up on my third or fourth watch. The newer toys from Bonnie’s bedroom held their own limited seconds of spotlight, but let’s be honest – the focus of this film was on Woody and Bo. Bo was a wildcard for this film. She’d disappeared in Toy Story 3, leaving us all to wonder what had happened to her. I actually had a dream once that Woody was lying on the floor watching Andy’s sister play with Bo and accidentally drop her – and since she’s made of porcelain or something similar, she shattered into a million pieces and Woody just had to lay there like his entire world hadn’t come apart. It was definitely one of my more traumatic dreams – and thankfully it didn’t come true. Bo is a little bit broken, but for the most part she’s up and kicking. The scene in the beginning of the film where Bo asked Woody to come with her was gut-wrenching, and it highlighted that aspect of Woody’s character where he’s unwilling to give up on his kid. It makes that final scene where he finally joins her all the more thought-provoking: why did Woody go with Bo this time? Isn’t he still someone’s toy?
Regardless of how I feel about that final scene, I loved Woody and Bo’s relationship in this film. Bo pushes Woody to see the world in a whole new light, and throughout the movie he’s just looking at her. It’s weird how tangible Woody’s longing for her was, considering they’re just toys. Seeing him re-learn who Bo was and who she had become was so dramatic and exciting, and the way he wrestled with his own desires and his duty to Bonnie was really compelling storytelling.
This is the first Toy Story film that I don’t think was perfect – but I want to be clear in communicating that it was still awfully close. Yeah, Buzz and the gang didn’t get as much screen time as I would’ve liked, particularly in the finale. Yeah, Woody giving up his voicebox and leaving Bonnie behind didn’t feel quite right. But I laughed, I cried, and I walked out of the theater happy for Woody. He’s reconnected with the love of his life, and now they’re going to see the world and connect other toys with kids. I think that’s beautiful.
One of the greatest testaments to the quality of this franchise is how each film stands on its own legs. Because of that, Toy Story 4 is a self-contained narrative that could serve as a conclusion to the entire thing. However, a Toy Story 5 is just as possible – and I for one would like to see a story about Buzz without Woody. I know we’re getting “Lightyear” somewhere down the road, but I mean the real Lightyear. Whether or not I ever see it, I’ll always remember Andy’s toys and what they’ve taught me.
Toy Story Toons: Hawaiian Vacation (***1/2)
The first of the “Toy Story Toons” is as funny and visually striking as anything else in the franchise – it just doesn’t have enough to make it a must-see.
There’s nothing bad that I can say about this short. Barbie and Ken are terrific, and everyone else gets a brief moment in the spotlight. The whole short is light, simple, and nothing less than a good time. It’s just that with a compressed runtime like this, you kind of only have time to shoot for one thing. They chose to shoot for laughs, and they succeeded. That makes this an enjoyable addition to the Toy Story franchise, but no one could say that this has any elements that make it unskippable.
Toy Story Toons: Small Fry (***)
Jane Lynch makes a welcome appearance at a fast food restaurant in this chuckle-inducing short.
Sure, we get Buzz Lightyear in an awkward support group meeting, but the real fun of this short is seeing a bunch of crazy fast-food toys. I swear I’ve actually had one of these before as a kid. Baby Buzz – or whatever you’d call his snack-size version – is a good laugh too. Just like the previous ‘Toy Story Toon’, this is a comedy-focused narrative that meets the visual quality of its ancestors. You don’t gotta see it – but you won’t be sorry if you do.
Toy Story Toons: Partysaurus Rex (**1/2)
I know these are just supposed to be quick laughs, but I don’t love the moral of this story.
See, Rex gets picked on by the other toys for being a “party pooper Rex”. Then he ends up in the bathroom for playtime, and finds once Bonnie has left that his arms make him uniquely qualified to help the other bath toys. Soon the bath is on even though nobody is home, and the bath toys are having a blast. Rex feels like this probably isn’t a good idea, but the taunting memories of his friends inspires him to increasingly wild behaviour. Before you know it, the party is out of control and the entire house floods. But by the end of the short, Rex doesn’t recognize the impact of his actions. All he recognizes is the way it felt when people valued him.
Like, I know this is just a short film – but don’t you see the potent message in that?
The way we treat people matters. We know that (or we should know that). When people are mistreated, they start to crave the kind of love and attention they’re not getting. And it makes them do dangerous things. Rex has no remorse for flooding his owner’s house. All he knows is that the bath toys think he’s a legend. Do you know anyone who’s become lost in something because of the short-term high it gives them? Have you ever been there yourself? This short ends on a laugh, hoping that we’ll root for Rex like the bath toys did. But I don’t see a party legend. I see someone who isn’t getting love and is looking for it wherever he can find it.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it. But then again, that’s the sort of thing I love doing to begin with.
Toy Story of Terror! (****)
It’s more than just a classic Toy Story romp – it’s actually scary.
One of the charming aspects of this short film is that it toys with a lot of the traditional tropes of the horror/thriller genre. Our heroes get stuck in a seemingly innocuous locale, only to find a monster within. They get split up and picked off one by one, until the most unlikely of characters steps up to save them all. They went by-the-book in that regard, but they did it with style and humour. There’s a lot of funny bits in this short, which is to be expected for the franchise. It’s the element of fear that was a little unexpected. When Jessie got stuck in a box in the first minute or so, you suddenly felt a twinge of horror that you didn’t see coming. Then again, the original Toy Story had a few fairly scary bits. Maybe this is more of a “return to the roots” than a divergence.
Centering this story on Jessie’s fear of being trapped in a small space was a great idea. The stakes were high from the very beginning, and her climactic moment packed a wallop because of the baggage she’d brought into this story. The bit where she gets taped into that box was just awesome because you felt every second of it. Loved that.
Short, sweet, and with just a hint of spooky – this is perfect for an October evening with the family.
Toy Story That Time Forgot (****)
It's great to see a franchise put just as much heart into the small screen as it does into the big leagues.
Toy Story That Time Forgot does everything right. The animation is state-of-the-art and theatrical. The story is compact, but still tackles themes like relationship, purpose, and the beauty of playtime with as much vigour as any of the main films have. And it's just as funny as anything else from the franchise.
Toy Story has also stuck to their guns when it comes to designing amazing toys. The Battlesaurs are absolutely terrific - I want all of them. Reptillus Maximus in particular is fantastic. Why are these not a real thing??
Look, long story short - anyone who likes Toy Story will enjoy this. It's twenty minutes long. There are way worse ways to spend twenty minutes, and I should know because I just updated my credit card information for my phone bill.
Forky Asks A Question (**1/2)
Not quite fun enough to be entertainment – and not quite informative enough to be educational. This really just seems like content for content’s sake.
This series of shorts was released along with the introduction of Disney+, which was the first indication it might just be around to fill a slot. Disney needed to show off the new content that their streaming service was making possible. With Pixar being one of their essential branches, a short-form series capitalizing off of the success of their most recent film seemed the right call. And maybe it was, financially. But artistically, this falls flat for me. In each episode, Forky is definitely the spork we all know from Toy Story 4. He’s constantly distracted and really unable to grasp even the most basic of ideas. Unfortunately, because this show is about asking questions, his ineptitude for listening really keeps the question-answerer from saying much of anything about the topic. As funny as that might be once, it got old for me really fast. The series as a whole can’t decide whether it wants to teach us or make us laugh – and because of that, it doesn’t really do either.
That said, “What is Love” was a highlight, thanks in part to the guest stars. But I wouldn’t recommend this to anyone but the biggest Forky fans.
Lamp Life (***1/2)
In Toy Story 4, Bo Peep was a really intriguing figure who challenged Woody’s perception of the world. Because of her rejection of the idea that toys needed to stick with their kids, though, she came across as a little bit jaded. She’d been turned down by so many kids that it seemed she was over kids entirely. And hey, that’s fair, but it certainly made Woody’s decision to stick with her instead of Bonnie feel like a total character flip. Woody’s always been about being there for your kid – so picking Bo felt like he was turning his back on everything he knew.
Apart from being entertaining and long enough to merit its own existence, this short showed us that Bo Peep hadn’t rejected toy-hood completely. Yes, we see her go through a number of misadventures. But we also see her desire to be played with – particularly at the park. Bo doesn’t want an ‘owner’ anymore, but she still wants to make kids happy. That’s something that I don’t think was highlighted very much in the theatrical film, so it was nice to see it here. It was also fun seeing Bo’s transformation from her Toy-Story-2-self to the present. This was a nice little companion to Toy Story 4, and Bo fans are definitely in for a treat.