Toy Story 3 had a tumultuous life before it saw the big screen. With their contract ready to expire, Disney's contingency plan was to take Pixar's IP, and create direct-to-video sequels under the Circle 7 Animation banner, 3 being among them. This just seemed wrong, as Pixar's characters were nothing without their home studio bringing them to life, but if Pixar were to find a new distributor, it would threaten to take away the independence they'd enjoyed under Disney.
Thankfully, that never happened, as once Bog Iger took over from Michael Eisner as Disney CEO, one of his first acts was to buy Pixar outright, making the Disney castle their home forever. As a result, Circle 7 was scrapped, and so were the sequels. But... Toy Story 3 still sounded very enticing, and with their original creators back in control, this could be a continuation worth exploring. Coming at the end of their four year run of perfection, it was precisely that, sending its beloved characters off on a rich, entertaining, and appropriately bittersweet final note... at least, at the time.
Toy owner Andy (John Morris) is now 17 years old, and ready to depart to college in a few days time. His favorite toy Woody (Tom Hanks) tries to keep order amidst the group (including Tim Allen's Buzz Lightyear and Joan Cusack's Jessie), who haven't been played with in years, and are afraid of being thrown away. When the toys end up tossed to the trash by accident, they hitch a ride to the seemingly perfect Sunnyside Daycare, presided over by the friendly Lotso-Huggin-Bear (Ned Beatty). While Woody escapes, and is taken home by a young girl named Bonnie, the other toys find themselves unwilling captives at the daycare, forced to be the playthings for aggressive toddlers. So now the toys must all band together if they're to be free from Sunnyside, and make it back home before Andy leaves.
It isn't long before the nostalgia buttons come out hot and heavy, opening with a sequence recalling the original Toy Story, in which Woody and his friends pursue the evil One Eyed Bart. This is a fun sequence all on its own, loaded with loving callbacks to the prior films, that recall the endearing innocence of the original film. But fun as that moment is, like life flashing before our eyes, it's over like that.
It's been years since last we saw Woody and the gang, as they came to terms with jealousy and fear of abandonment, and decided to enjoy their playtime while it lasted. Now that it's over, the toys are left to ponder what comes next. The cast of characters is much smaller and intimate this time out, with only a handful of the original workforce remaining through all the yard sales and donations. But now that Andy has grown up, how long until they inevitably get sold off? Would Andy store them safely in the attic, or are they destined to end up tossed to the garbage?
If this new film feels somewhat darker in that regard, it's thank to its new director. Taking over from John Lasseter, we have former editor and co-director Lee Unkrich calling the shots. He's been with these characters since the beginning, so he's one of the few fully capable of doing them justice in this third outing, which continues to directly explore all those unpleasant abandonment issues, bringing them all full circle with some weighty introspection.
Even the word of Woody may not be good enough anymore, as because he's so clearly been the favorite toy from the beginning, his confidence in his owner could easily be seen as misplaced or clouded. At one point, Woody describes them as selfish, when their entire point of existence is to be there for a child. But in saying that, Woody himself is still clinging to his selfishness, as just because he may carry on, that doesn't mean the others will. Woody has always been such a likable character, because through all of his mistakes and stubbornness, he genuinely believes that the choices he makes are the right ones, if lacking foresight for what's best for everyone else as opposed to him.
We've seen him grow from jealousy over his position being upset, to finding acceptance that his kid will eventually grow up, and now he may have to face the inevitable, by learning to let his friend go his own way. The relationship Andy has with his toys has always been a great literal and figurative one, of friends who've been by his side since the beginning, and who must eventually part ways as they live their own lives. But even when separated, that still won't be the end of their friendship. So long as they hold on to those good times, and hold on to that bond they shared, some part of them will always live on and be there for them in spirit.
The other toys also get some great time to shine, albeit developed more as a group unit than as individuals, coming to grips with their fears and their yearning for the days of old. That speaks to one of the underrated strengths of these films, that being the great chemistry and interplay between the players. Of course, in Woody's absence, Buzz is the next best candidate to lead the other toys and hold order, but his goal of keeping the unit collected and together is really put to the test. Especially when an unfortunate run in reverts him back to his space ranger setting, which gets taken to outrageous new heights in this entry, as Buzz dons a Spanish tongue, and has a hilarious penchant for dramatic flair.
In addition, the slimming of old characters allows for new characters to make their identities known, the best of the bunch belonging to Ned Beatty's ominously friendly Lotso. The self-appointed head of Sunnyside's toy operations, what once feels like a lovable and tender presence, soon reveals itself for the unbalanced and manipulative center it holds. It helps that Lotso is easy to empathize with, given the tragic trajectory that's lead him to this point, being all too familiar with the heartache of being tossed aside by his owner. But instead of taking strength from it, the experience has only warped his mind, making him cruelly subject those beneath him to the pain he feels they deserve. In an even darker shade, he's also proof that, try as you might, some people can't be reformed.
In addition, we also have Michael Keaton turning in a hysterical performance as the effeminate Ken, pairing wonderfully with Jodi Benson's returning Barbie, who's awkwardly hyper chemistry results in some of the film's biggest laughs. The toys of Bonnie's room also make a strong impression, that are more improv troupe to Andy's office space toys, with former Bond star Timothy Dalton in his performance of a lifetime, playing Mr. Pricklepants the hedgehog.
About halfway through, the movie shifts gears to become a prison movie, in which the team have to meticulously plot their escape from the daycare, and this section becomes easily the most thoroughly entertaining of the movie. In addition to the great character interplay, it also becomes a great showcase for the film's sense of humor, in which characters find themselves in progressively bizarre situations, including Mr. Potato Head having to adopt the form of a wobbly tortilla. It's just so much fun watching this escape play out, and with Unkrich's background in editing, it's no wonder it seems to breeze by so effortlessly.
But even after escaping, there's still some rough ground to cover, as we're then lead into an intense climax, wherein the characters must literally fight for their lives in a trash processing plant, even as our characters may ultimately have to accept their fate, as trash waiting to be thrown away. But Toy Story 4 is happening, so thankfully such a fate doesn't befall them.
After that, in the final twist of the knife, we're treated to the most perfect, bittersweet ending on the level of E.T., as we and Andy finally bid our friends goodbye (at least, for now) and pass them along. I will admit, that this ending has always felt a little awkward to me, especially with how much energy Andy gives his introductions to the toys. But as time has gone on, ultimately that matters less and less to me. Sometimes, the emotion of a scene trumps the logic of it, and this is the purest embodiment of that ideal, as Andy and us relive the fondness of playing with our toys, some may say our earliest "friends," and makes us feel like children reliving those experiences all over again. Eventually, that cycle also begins anew with the next generation, and as Randy Newman's bittersweet score plays us out and we pan to the clouds, we finish that chapter of Toy Story's life in spectacular fashion.
I've said before how I consider How to Train Your Dragon to be the best animated trilogy ever made, but if it weren't for Toy Story 4's existence, it wouldn't even be close. Watching these films again made me realize how collectively perfect they are, telling progressively layered and mature stories as they've grown up with their audience, and felt easily accessible even as they've gone to headier, darker places. Through it all, the key ingredients have always been their heart, and their characters. As John Lasseter himself put it, no one looks at these figures and goes "oh, that's just computer animation or pencil drawings." They are alive and real, as alive as a simple Luxo lamp was in 1986.
And through the years, that has always been what's made Toy Story so endearing. We grew up with these characters for 15 years. We were always by their side, ready to share in a brand new adventure, tearing up over their sorrows, and sharing in their infectious laughter. Because they've always felt like family. Though Toy Story may have been the most innovative and character driven, and Toy Story 2 supplied it with greater depth and emotion, Toy Story 3 is the perfect encapsulation of everything that has made this series the joy it was. It's simply an untouchable achievement, to have three incredible films of this caliber, that each have their own unique offerings, and not one of them have any weaknesses.
And even as other studio making franchises like Shrek and Ice Age fizzle out as they progress, Toy Story only seems to improve with every follow-up. The mark of a truly great series of films, and one we're unlikely to ever see again.
***** / *****
And so concludes my rundown of the original Toy Story trilogy. But we're not done yet, because next week finally sees the release of Toy Story 4. While I should feel skeptical about it's existence, I'm nothing but optimistic about its chances, and hold onto hope that it's every bit as excellent as its three earlier counterparts. Something as simple as a spork coming to life, which makes me think this will be the most existential of them all, has me excited beyond belief, and I can't wait to see it. See you there, partner!
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