Reviewing Pixar Animation Studios: 2010 - 2015
First Flop and Further Fame
After eleven years, Pixar brought us back to the Roundup Gang with “Toy Story 3”. Winning in two out of the five Academy Award categories they were nominated for and becoming the first animated film in history to earn over a billion dollars, it seemed that there was no limit to the height of Pixar’s success.
Then came Cars 2. With a Rotten Tomatoes score of 40%, it was unequivocally Pixar’s first flop despite its box office earnings. Pixar’s perfect image had been tainted, but thankfully its next few films built back some of that lost credit. The final film in this period deserves particular attention, as it is one of the greatest animated films of all time. Here are Pixar's film between 2010 and 2015.
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.
Cars 2 (*1/2)
In which cars go to the bathroom and eat wasabi now and we're all supposed to be okay with that
Watching this right after Toy Story 3 was like licking dirt after a three-course steak dinner.
Cars 2 earned over 500 million dollars. That’s admittedly 100 million more than the first film, but at the time in terms of box office numbers it came in 7th out of the 12 films they’d made so far. Further, Cars 2 was significantly more expensive to make than the first movie, which means that Pixar only really made an extra profit of about 20 million over the predecessor. I don’t mean to say that Cars 2 didn’t make money – it definitely did. But the hurt that it caused to Pixar’s reputation really puts all that money into perspective. The first Cars had done decently as far as the critics were concerned, but there was no doubt that it was the worst Pixar film to date (all three Cars films are still Pixar’s three lowest ranked films on Rotten Tomatoes). If any of their films DIDN’T deserve a sequel, it was Cars.
But John Lasseter was still the man behind the wheel – and to his credit, he’d been a huge part of Pixar’s success up to this point. Cars 2 was the fifth Pixar film he’d directed, with Toy Story 1 and 2 being some of the others. Cars had been a bit of a passion project for him, so I’m not surprised that he managed to convince the team to continue building the franchise. What IS surprising is how unambitious and uncreative Cars 2 ended up being. Pixar’s formula for success is pairing two unlikely companions amidst a wondrous and imaginative world (think Buzz and Woody, Mike and Sully, Marlin and Dory, Wall-e and Eve, etc.). The first Cars followed that strategy with Mater & McQueen, but this film kept the two characters apart for a significant chunk of time. Sure, a big part of the plot had to do with Mater’s antics stressing McQueen out, but the focus was definitely more on Mater’s inadvertent entry into the world of automotive espionage. And speaking of focus, Lightning McQueen really took a backseat in this ride. He was the star of the previous film – and here, all he did was race around a little bit before declaring his brotherly love for Mater at the end of the movie. Why are we putting him front and center on the movie poster if he’s not the main character? This is a borderline spinoff film.
I said that this film was unambitious, and here’s what I mean by that. This film didn’t push our characters or the world they inhabited in exciting new directions. Toy Story 2, for example, put the single most important relationships of the original to the test. At the same time, it delved deep into themes of abandonment and neglect that the original had touched on. A sequel is supposed to push boundaries set by the first film. This felt almost more like the kickoff TV film for an upcoming series about Mater travelling the globe. Lightning didn’t grow as a character – and neither did Mater, really. We just got a lot of Mater being culturally unaware over and over again.
The one thing that this film did give me a lot of was questions. So cars eat ice cream now? And they go to the bathroom? And they breathe?! In Toy Story 2 when Woody’s arm ripped, we all had a moment of “Oh shoot, yeah, that happens to toys.” But here, we just see more and more cars not being tied down to any discernible rules of existence whatsoever. Do cars have parents in this world? It’s clear that different cars have different manufacturers, but are do the manufacturers create life, or just accessories? How many pieces of a car can you replace before it’s no longer the same car? Doc Hudson apparently died – but what does that mean? How do cars die? Can a car come back from the dead? I may be digging too deep – but when the rules of the world aren’t clear, it’s hard to do otherwise.
The Cars trilogy, for all the money it’s made Pixar, is the black mark on its otherwise nearly spotless record of hits. This sequel is uninspired, doesn’t take narrative risks, doesn’t stretch or grow our leads, and it doesn’t even feature Lightning McQueen all that much. Imagine if Toy Story 2 was about Buzz in a new home with new toys. It’s a waste of all the characters and relationships that the original built. Skip this as fast as you can.
Brave (***)
In which it's basically 'How To Train Your Dragon' but with bears
It’s a big step up from the film that preceded it (Cars 2), but Brave can’t quite reach as high as its fellow Pixar films.
My wife and I have talked about the prevalence of father-son stories in film, and the reasons behind this. Jenna’s proposed that women for the most part have no problem hearing a story about a father and son working things out, whereas men for the most part don’t particularly care to hear about a mother and daughter. Whether or not this hypothesis is ultimately correct, there’s certainly enough evidence to merit investigation. Without even trying, I can name half a dozen films where father-son relationships are key (The Lion King, The Empire Strikes Back, Finding Nemo, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest). I actually had to Google mother-daughter movies – and many that were suggested don’t really count. There’s Freaky Friday, Lady Bird, Mamma Mia…the Princess Diaries if grandmothers count…what others can you think of?
Maybe it’s just me, and I don’t get exposed to enough films where moms and daughters play a major role. But think about the box office numbers behind the father-son movies versus the mother-daughter movies. Of the movies I mentioned, Mamma Mia was the biggest hit commercially. Mamma Mia made less than four out of the six father-son flicks, and the two that it beat were released more than thirty years ago (which means it’s not really fair given the rising price of tickets). If you still think my wife’s out to lunch on this, think of the biggest movie you can where a mother and daughter take center stage. Compare its revenue with any of the films I mentioned and see how it does.
At the very least, it seems to me that mother-daughter movies just aren’t financially successful in the same way that father-son flicks are. Is this a problem that needs fixing? Is it a problem that even can be fixed? I don’t know – but it’s definitely something to think about as I consider why Brave wasn’t as excellent for me as Pixar’s other works. If Brave had been about a young boy who turned his father into a bear, would I have liked it more? And is that wrong?
Brave is certainly better than Cars or Cars 2. And as a fairy tale, it’s got most of the elements it needs. There’s a princess, a curse, a vicious antagonist, and a few comic relief characters to add a few jokes to the storyline. But for whatever reason, this film doesn’t achieve much more than the sum of its parts for me. It doesn’t move me the way Toy Story, Wall-e, or Up did. Perhaps that’s because the plot wasn’t ambitious enough, or because Brave doesn’t nail the princess genre quite like Disney has historically.
I can’t really name any major flaws in this film, so I have to chalk up my ambivalence towards it as a matter of personal taste and nothing else. Brave might be a masterpiece to you – and if it is, I don’t think I could talk you out of it. It’s just not for me – and if my wife is correct, that could unfortunately be a very common problem. My only question is if there’s anything I can do about that.
And, I suppose I’d also like to ask how on earth Pixar thought a kid jumping straight down into a plump woman’s décolletage wasn’t over the line.
Monsters University (***1/2)
In which Pixar tells you to suck it up and find a real job
Another step upward on Pixar’s climb from the pits of Cars 2, Monsters University has an under-appreciated message amidst classic Pixarian charm.
Most people wouldn’t look at Monsters Inc. and think, “Man, this film needs a prequel”. A sequel, certainly. What kind of impact would it have on a child’s development to be friends with the monster in their closet as they grow? How long could a fragile relationship like that last? How would Sully come to terms with going from being the top dog to the underdog? It’s questions like this that make me think a sequel is definitely a possibility down the road. But I likely never would have asked how Mike and Sully met. It’s just not necessarily an exciting question.
Thankfully, there’s a deeper and more thought-provoking question at the heart of this film: Can you really do anything if you try hard enough? My generation has long emphasized the empowerment of the individual. There are a few Pixar movies that are emblematic of this: A Bug’s Life, Wall-e, and Ratatouille have all shown us ‘different’ protagonists who changed their societies of sameness by believing in themselves and committing to their skills. It’s not a bad message. We need people who believe in the power within themselves, because –
(A) we want them to affect profound positive change on the world and
(B) we want them to be aware of the potential they all have to affect disastrous negative change.
But one of the potential pitfalls of this message is that our generation can begin to believe that anything – no, literally anything – is possible when they believe.
If you try hard enough, you can become an astronaut. If you believe in yourself, you can get famous. If you never ever ever give up, you can invent the ultimate streaming service. Each of these statements are (hypothetically speaking) true. But sometimes we can misconstrue possibilities for certainties. No amount of trying hard enough will get you into space if you’re eighty years old. Thousands of people who believe in themselves have been working at Starbucks for years while waiting for their big break. Dreams don’t always come true. We don’t like talking about it, but we can’t deny it, either.
This film teaches us the importance of pivoting. You may think you know what will make you happy, but sometimes we don’t know what we really need until we’ve lost the things we thought we needed. Your identity needs to come from more than just an achievement. Whether that’s a marriage, a family, a career, or whatever your definition of success is, you have to be able to move on even if that success doesn’t come around. Some people don’t get married. Some people don’t land their dream job. Some people don’t get written about in history books. But that certainly doesn’t make their lives worth any less than those who do.
Monsters University somehow manages to capture the essence of the campus life without ever going too far into the non-PG content that invariably pervades post-secondary education. There’s cliques, clubs, coffee chuggers, cramming for exams, and crazy rituals that must be followed in the spirit of tradition. I didn’t love my university years, but this film really highlights all of the best parts of that season of life. Getting to see Sully and Mike at odds with each other was really fun. Their dichotomy was really intensified by the fact that we KNEW Sully was going to be the scarer and Mike was not – even though Mike was clearly the one who wanted it more. To that end, the climactic scene where Mike and Sully had to work together to scare grown-ups really set the stage for their relationship in the original film.
Although Monsters Inc. is definitely the superior film of the two, I have to admit that the scenery is wayyy better. Much of Monsters Inc. was nothing but hallways and corridors – here, we were taken to so many different locales across campus. I really enjoyed that, just as I enjoyed seeing all of the new monsters that Pixar dreamed up. In classic Pixar fashion, this is a great looking movie.
In short, Monsters University may not be one of Pixar’s top ten films. That said, the message within it is one that we almost never hear, which is exactly why this film is so important. This film will teach your kid that there are some things they can’t do. However frustrating a lesson that is to learn, this film adds sugar to the bitter medicine by reminding us that our purpose is not bound to a dream we have. Who we are is so much more than the things we want – or the people we imagine ourselves being. Who you are ultimately comes down to what you do with the hand you’re dealt. The moments you fail are your greatest opportunities to grow.
Inside Out (*****)
In which the death of an imaginary character inside another imaginary character makes me blubber like a baby again
Profound, beautiful, and superbly creative, Inside Out is one of the greatest animated films ever made.
In summer 2015, my brother Joel and I were working at the summer camp we’d grown up at. A group of tight-knit staff had piled into a few vehicles to drive down to the small town theatre up the road. It was a far cry from the massive sprawling multiplexes we were used to, but there was a quaint charm to it – and it was the only accessible theatre for miles. We all sat down in the aging red velvet seats, and Inside Out began to play. The camp staff was predominantly female, and my brother and I sat more or less in the dead center of the group.
By the end of the film, Joel and I were mopping our faces with our sleeves while the girls around us were either stone-faced or chortling at us.
Inside Out moved me in a way that no animated film had for years. I had no idea that a film about an eleven year old girl’s first few days in a new school could have that kind of impact on me, but Pixar once again tapped into one of their greatest strengths – drawing beauty out of simple, everyday questions like “What is going on in your head”. If you’ve never seen this film, I don’t care who you are – you need to give this movie a try.
First of all, the casting is terrific. Amy Poehler crushes it as Joy, no doubt channeling some of the energy from her role as Parks and Recreation’s Leslie Knope. Both characters are irrepressibly optimistic. On the other end of the spectrum is Sadness, perfectly personified by The Office’s Phyllis Smith. Phyllis displayed many emotions while working for Michael Scott, but the one she always nailed was sadness. In this film, she’s caring, thoughtful, and poignant whenever she’s not making us laugh. We get another Office veteran in the character of Disgust, played with flair by the excellent Mindy Kaling. Mindy lays on the sass in this film – and if you like her here, check her out in The Office or in her film ‘Late Night’ with Emma Thompson. That’s a great one. Fear and Anger are similarly well-casted, but it’s the female leads who steal the show for me.
Secondly, Michael Giacchinno crafts another knock-it-out-of-the park score. He’s the guy behind the award-winning music of The Incredibles, Ratatouille, and Up. The music here perfectly encapsulates the themes of the film, blending childlike wonder with whimsy and a heavy dose of nostalgia-infused reminiscence. The little piano melody that kicks off the first few seconds of the film comes back again and again like an old familiar memory that comforts us in moments of grief. Giacchinno is a composer to look for.
The key relationship of this film is found between Joy and Sadness, diametrically in opposition for much of the story like so many great Pixar pairings that have come before. The climax of the film comes in their cooperation – but before I talk about that, we need to talk about Bing Bong. If you had told me before watching this film that I’d cry over an imaginary friend named Bing Bong who has a cotton candy torso, an elephant nose, and hobo attire, I’d have scoffed. But then he said it.
“Take her to the moon for me.”
Wow. What an absolutely phenomenal sacrifice. Sure, we’ve seen characters give their lives for other characters all the time. It’s a good story element – the noble sacrifice. But this is so much bigger than that, for a key reason. See, Bing Bong and Joy found themselves in the place where lost memories go to be forgotten. And once a memory is forgotten, that’s it. It never ever comes back. It seemed that Joy and the other core memories had some sort of resilience against the fading power of this pit, but from the moment Bing Bong landed down there, he could see himself wisping away. On one hand, I thought to myself, this is natural. There are aspects of our childhood that do not come with us. Forgetting is a natural part of life – and more than that, it’s healthy. Some things are meant to be with us only for a season. Imaginary friends are one of those things. But on the other hand, Bing Bong just wants to spend more time with Riley. As weird of a character as he is, I didn’t want to see anything bad happen to him.
Thankfully, Joy and Bing Bong find his magic song-powered wagon thing that they begin using to try and fly out of the pit. But whenever they get close to the rim, the wagon runs out of juice and falls all the way back down. The first time, you think “They just need to sing a bit louder”. But the second time, it hit me.
It’s Bing Bong.
Bing Bong doesn’t belong in Riley’s memories anymore. He was a crucial character for a certain point in her life, but just like Woody and Buzz in Toy Story 3, it’s time for Bing Bong to let his kid go. She doesn’t need him anymore, which means it’s time for him to move on. But here’s what’s so tear-jerking about that. You know Bing Bong has got to go, and I know it – but then Bing Bong realizes it too. He knows that really loving Riley means letting her move on without him. So at the last second, he jumps off of the wagon. It’s his wagon and his sacrifice that secure Joy’s safety. Bing Bong saves Riley, yes. But the price is greater than death – it’s being forgotten. Riley will never know what Bing Bong did for her. She will never – ever – think about him again. Bing Bong gave his life so that the person he loved could go on as if he had never existed. He gave himself away so that she could grow past him, and I think that’s absolutely beautiful. It’s one of the noblest sacrifices I’ve ever seen, because in a very real sense, Bing Bong’s sacrifice is a completely thankless one. When Iron Man gives his life in Endgame, it’s done in a way that cements his name in world history forever. When Bing Bong gives his life…no one will say his name ever again. Wow. That’s real love.
To be honest, from that moment onward in that small town theatre, Joel and I were in tears. The movie didn’t slow down for even a second. We watched Riley run away from home, and we watched the control panel in her mind darken with apathy. Try as they might, Fear, Anger, and Disgust couldn’t get through to Riley anymore. This one big idea – running away – had made it so that Riley couldn’t feel. How many people do you know who have been in that position? One big mistake has led them to being in a place where they’re robbed of all the emotions that make them who they are. It’s not that Riley’s being burdened by anger in the final act – she’s weighed down by apathy. Wow. There’s a whole essay right there.
Then comes the climactic scene, when Joy and Sadness return to headquarters. And for the first time, Joy willingly relinquishes her control to Sadness. She lets Sadness change all of the core memories – to accept that Riley’s past is indeed past, and to accept that Minnesota is a chapter of her life that has ended. It’s this acceptance of grief that finally allows Riley to return home and have that heart-wrenching talk with her parents. We can see (through the brilliantly nuanced skill of the animators) and hear (through the music of Giacchinno and the performance of Riley’s voice actor Kaitlyn Dias) the profound grief that Riley is sharing for the first time. Whereas her mom asked her earlier in the film to “put on a happy face”, Riley is being real with her parents. And in doing so, she triggers that big healing hug that helps her feel truly okay for the first time since they arrived in San Francisco. That shot of Riley in her parent’s arms with the faintest sliver of a smile blooming on her face is the stuff that the movies were made for. It’s freaking beautiful.
This film has all the makings of a classic Pixar film, but it’s the deep universal lessons that we can learn from it that propels it past the top tier of the studio’s filmography and into the pantheon of animated masterpieces. It’s brilliantly animated, terrifically casted, exquisitely scored, and – unlike Bing Bong - it’s unequivocally unforgettable. Do not miss this film.
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