Quick disclaimer - this blog assumes that the reader has seen the three Toy Story films. If you haven't, why on Earth not?! Watch them before reading, or even if you don't end up reading this blog, watch them anyway...
One of my earliest film-related memories is from way back when I was 5 or 6 years old and my Dad first got the internet at home. He'd recently moved his office from a building in the city centre to the back of our house, and one day invited me to come through to his computer and have a look at a video he'd just found online. I watched as a three-dimensional animated cowboy doll turned to a depressed looking spaceman. He asked the spaceman to give him a hand, and in response was thrown the toy's detached arm. 'Boys are Back in Town' by Thin Lizzy played as the film's logo appeared. It may not sound like much now, but I was completely blown away.
I remember feeling at the end like I had just seen something incredibly exciting - this was probably the first time I had seen a video online, one of the first times I'd seen a trailer for an unreleased film, and the first time I'd seen fully CGI animation - all things that are completely taken for granted now, but at the time I believed I was privileged to have seen history in the making. Even though I now know that the same trailer must have been seen by thousands of people back then, it still feels like a significant moment in cinematic history, as it marked the birth of a style of animation that is now the industry standard, as well as the first feature length release from a studio that has become the undisputed leader in that field. Toy Story broke this new ground, Toy Story 2 became one of the few sequels to actually surpass the original, and Toy Story 3 is, in my opinion, one of the greatest animated films of all time.
The concept of the trilogy - what do toys get up to when you're not watching them? - is an incredible idea. Like many of Pixar's films, it's simple but original, and allows for a wealth of colourful characters that operate within the parameters of their own world. It also allows the audience to recognise and identify with the characters very quickly - everyone who had a cowboy toy, or a spaceman or dinosaur when they were younger could instantly feel like it was their own toys they were watching; old friends they've known and loved all their life. The actual personalities of the characters are very relatable too. Every member of the central cast has been written as a real, well rounded, almost human person, and the plots revolve around the adult experiences that their lives are throwing at them.
The first film is about learning to adjust to new situations. Woody is the respected leader of a group of well-loved toys, who occupies a special place in the heart of their owner Andy. The plot of the film kicks off when he is kicked out of both of those positions by a newer, more impressive toy. Buzz's arrogance and delusion of being an actual spaceman aggravate him even further. Although Woody's actions are initially motivated by jealousy and selfishness, we can still sympathise with him as he struggles to stop his world crumbling down. Over the course of the film he learns that the world is far bigger than Andy's room, and that there are other people in it with far bigger problems than his own.
Buzz's character arc is effectively the reverse of Woody's. When he first arrives in Andy's room, he is an intergalactic hero, on a life-threatening mission to keep the galaxy safe. He firmly believes that he occupies a vital role in the world, and that any admiration and praise he receives stems from that importance. His discovery that he is in fact a child's plaything leads him to realise that the universe he occupies is far, far smaller, and his role within it is laughably insignificant.
The interaction of the two characters allows each of them to put their issues in perspective. Woody teaches Buzz that he is still an important part of one boy's life, and that with the love and imagination of a child that being a toy gives him access to, he will still be the great hero that he always thought he was. At the same time, Woody comes to the realisation that his role in life is to make sure Andy is always happy, even if that means letting other toys take centre stage. Both characters essentially find that although they have completely changed each others' perspective of the world, their role within it is still the same it's always been.
The second and third films continue with the adult stories transposed onto children's toys, showing a mid-life crisis and retirement, respectively. The themes remain equally grown up, with the toys facing fears of abandonment, becoming obsolete, their glory years being behind them and their freedom being denied to them.
As I said in my Frozen blog, the best comedies offset the laughs against some moments of sadness to put the lighter moments in perspective, and the Toy Story films, especially 2 & 3, have some incredibly beautiful examples. Jessie's song When She Loved Me in TS2 is one of the most soulful, wistful, melancholy tunes you'll ever find in a kids' film, in which the cowgirl tells the story of her owner growing out of her. The song is set to a sepia-toned series of flashback images that start out mirroring Woody's life with Andy at the start of the first film, before slowly transitioning into his worst fears realised. It's such an emotionally charged moment that it allows the audience to believe that this would make Woody genuinely consider leaving Andy after so long.
The third film has two moments that had me crying under my 3D glasses when I first saw it, both of which work purely because I, like so many of the rest of the audience, grew up with the first two films and feel like I know the characters as closely as I do my oldest friends. The first is the moment in the Hellish furnace of the incinerator at the dump when the toys see that there is no way they can survive their predicament and, wordlessly and with perfectly judged/animated emotion playing across their faces, accept their fate. They stop struggling and hold hands to reassure each other, and like our heroes the audience can only look on in horror as they are dragged into the inferno. It's an incredibly powerful moment, which rivals any other film I can think of, animated or otherwise, in terms of the impact it had and continues to have on me. Yet it didn't hit me anywhere near as hard as what happens 10 minutes or so later...
Fortunately, of course, the toys survive, thanks to a nice little tribute to one of the best jokes in the first film. They make it back to Andy's house before he heads off to college, only to suggest to him through a hastily scribbled post-it note that he passes them on to Bonnie. As he hands each toy over, he tells her about the games he used to play with them and the personalities he gave them, validating the efforts they had all gone to over the last three films to stay with him for the sake of the love they feared was disappearing. Thanks to the fantastic set-up in the first film, each introduction feels like we are saying bye to old friends for the last time. The toys' efforts are finally rewarded with the one thing they'd wanted since the start of film 3: a final moment of playtime with their owner like they used to enjoy. The fact that they are in their static toy mode throughout this scene, rather than the animated characters we've been watching the rest of the time, makes it feel like a dream sequence - the Toy Story equivalent of their lives flashing before their eyes. It's a beautiful scene and the perfect ending to the series, which made me feel guilty about the way my own childhood toys are stored away under my bed at home.
Obviously it's not all sad - the films are gloriously funny, with jokes that will amuse small children ("I'm Sheriff Woody! Howdy howdy howdy") and adults ("Nice ascot..."). Many of the jokes are built around the toys themselves, like Mr Potato Head's desperation for a Mrs Potato Head in the first film, or Ken in TS3 getting teased for being a glorified Barbie doll accessory.
The casting in all 3 films is perfect too. Tom Hanks is brilliant in everything, but is particularly well suited to Woody, giving him an instantly likeable warmth that makes him sound like both a natural leader and a normal, down-to-earth friend. Tim Allen gives Buzz just the right amount of self-assured cockiness and confidence to make us understand why he winds Woody up so badly to begin with, but without making us dislike him ourselves. Joan Cusack handles Jessie's passionate outbursts and introspective low moments (and that song!) with just the right amount of energy and beauty. Even the various supporting cast members all manage to craft memorable characters with actually very few lines each, all things considered - Slinky for example, voiced by the late Jim Varney in the first two films and then replaced by Blake Clark in the third, barely says anything, yet is many people's favourite character and we feel like we know him almost as well as we do Woody or Buzz.
I also really love the music in the Toy Story films, which is famously written and composed by Randy Newman. You've Got a Friend in Me is the obvious classic, full of charm and warmth and optimism. I can't hear it without being transported back to the sofa of the house I grew up in, sat between my Mum and Dad and without a care in the world. It's such an iconic song in the first film that it's covered in each of the successors, first crooned by Michael Buble in TS2 and then brilliantly reimagined in Spanish by the Gypsy Kings in TS3 (Hay Un Amigo En Mi, Para el Buzz Espanol), each one closing its respective film to end it on a high note. The other two songs in the first film - Strange Things and I Will Go Sailing No More - are fantastic too. I thoroughly recommend downloading Strange Things especially, as it has a lovely bit of backing singing that you can't really appreciate in the film. All three songs are used to illustrate a character's thoughts and feelings at that time in the film, which is quite an effective device.
Pixar is unarguably one of the best film studios out there, consistently delivering incredible films that each become instant classics, and Toy Story is the film that enabled it to do that. It proved to the world, and to the people in charge of Disney's bank accounts, that feature length movies could be animated completely in CGI, and that by taking the time to ensure that a good story and characters take priority over that CGI, such films can become phenomenally successful. As such, it has rightly become iconic in the world of film, and continues to be one of Pixar's favourite franchises - despite saying goodbye in Toy Story 3, the characters are popping up in various wonderful short films such as last year's Toy Story of Terror. As long as they can continue to make children (and inner children) happy, Pixar will never quite be able to put the toys back in their toybox. They are far too awesome.
One of my earliest film-related memories is from way back when I was 5 or 6 years old and my Dad first got the internet at home. He'd recently moved his office from a building in the city centre to the back of our house, and one day invited me to come through to his computer and have a look at a video he'd just found online. I watched as a three-dimensional animated cowboy doll turned to a depressed looking spaceman. He asked the spaceman to give him a hand, and in response was thrown the toy's detached arm. 'Boys are Back in Town' by Thin Lizzy played as the film's logo appeared. It may not sound like much now, but I was completely blown away.
I remember feeling at the end like I had just seen something incredibly exciting - this was probably the first time I had seen a video online, one of the first times I'd seen a trailer for an unreleased film, and the first time I'd seen fully CGI animation - all things that are completely taken for granted now, but at the time I believed I was privileged to have seen history in the making. Even though I now know that the same trailer must have been seen by thousands of people back then, it still feels like a significant moment in cinematic history, as it marked the birth of a style of animation that is now the industry standard, as well as the first feature length release from a studio that has become the undisputed leader in that field. Toy Story broke this new ground, Toy Story 2 became one of the few sequels to actually surpass the original, and Toy Story 3 is, in my opinion, one of the greatest animated films of all time.
The concept of the trilogy - what do toys get up to when you're not watching them? - is an incredible idea. Like many of Pixar's films, it's simple but original, and allows for a wealth of colourful characters that operate within the parameters of their own world. It also allows the audience to recognise and identify with the characters very quickly - everyone who had a cowboy toy, or a spaceman or dinosaur when they were younger could instantly feel like it was their own toys they were watching; old friends they've known and loved all their life. The actual personalities of the characters are very relatable too. Every member of the central cast has been written as a real, well rounded, almost human person, and the plots revolve around the adult experiences that their lives are throwing at them.
The first film is about learning to adjust to new situations. Woody is the respected leader of a group of well-loved toys, who occupies a special place in the heart of their owner Andy. The plot of the film kicks off when he is kicked out of both of those positions by a newer, more impressive toy. Buzz's arrogance and delusion of being an actual spaceman aggravate him even further. Although Woody's actions are initially motivated by jealousy and selfishness, we can still sympathise with him as he struggles to stop his world crumbling down. Over the course of the film he learns that the world is far bigger than Andy's room, and that there are other people in it with far bigger problems than his own.
Buzz's character arc is effectively the reverse of Woody's. When he first arrives in Andy's room, he is an intergalactic hero, on a life-threatening mission to keep the galaxy safe. He firmly believes that he occupies a vital role in the world, and that any admiration and praise he receives stems from that importance. His discovery that he is in fact a child's plaything leads him to realise that the universe he occupies is far, far smaller, and his role within it is laughably insignificant.
The interaction of the two characters allows each of them to put their issues in perspective. Woody teaches Buzz that he is still an important part of one boy's life, and that with the love and imagination of a child that being a toy gives him access to, he will still be the great hero that he always thought he was. At the same time, Woody comes to the realisation that his role in life is to make sure Andy is always happy, even if that means letting other toys take centre stage. Both characters essentially find that although they have completely changed each others' perspective of the world, their role within it is still the same it's always been.
The second and third films continue with the adult stories transposed onto children's toys, showing a mid-life crisis and retirement, respectively. The themes remain equally grown up, with the toys facing fears of abandonment, becoming obsolete, their glory years being behind them and their freedom being denied to them.
As I said in my Frozen blog, the best comedies offset the laughs against some moments of sadness to put the lighter moments in perspective, and the Toy Story films, especially 2 & 3, have some incredibly beautiful examples. Jessie's song When She Loved Me in TS2 is one of the most soulful, wistful, melancholy tunes you'll ever find in a kids' film, in which the cowgirl tells the story of her owner growing out of her. The song is set to a sepia-toned series of flashback images that start out mirroring Woody's life with Andy at the start of the first film, before slowly transitioning into his worst fears realised. It's such an emotionally charged moment that it allows the audience to believe that this would make Woody genuinely consider leaving Andy after so long.
The third film has two moments that had me crying under my 3D glasses when I first saw it, both of which work purely because I, like so many of the rest of the audience, grew up with the first two films and feel like I know the characters as closely as I do my oldest friends. The first is the moment in the Hellish furnace of the incinerator at the dump when the toys see that there is no way they can survive their predicament and, wordlessly and with perfectly judged/animated emotion playing across their faces, accept their fate. They stop struggling and hold hands to reassure each other, and like our heroes the audience can only look on in horror as they are dragged into the inferno. It's an incredibly powerful moment, which rivals any other film I can think of, animated or otherwise, in terms of the impact it had and continues to have on me. Yet it didn't hit me anywhere near as hard as what happens 10 minutes or so later...
Fortunately, of course, the toys survive, thanks to a nice little tribute to one of the best jokes in the first film. They make it back to Andy's house before he heads off to college, only to suggest to him through a hastily scribbled post-it note that he passes them on to Bonnie. As he hands each toy over, he tells her about the games he used to play with them and the personalities he gave them, validating the efforts they had all gone to over the last three films to stay with him for the sake of the love they feared was disappearing. Thanks to the fantastic set-up in the first film, each introduction feels like we are saying bye to old friends for the last time. The toys' efforts are finally rewarded with the one thing they'd wanted since the start of film 3: a final moment of playtime with their owner like they used to enjoy. The fact that they are in their static toy mode throughout this scene, rather than the animated characters we've been watching the rest of the time, makes it feel like a dream sequence - the Toy Story equivalent of their lives flashing before their eyes. It's a beautiful scene and the perfect ending to the series, which made me feel guilty about the way my own childhood toys are stored away under my bed at home.
Obviously it's not all sad - the films are gloriously funny, with jokes that will amuse small children ("I'm Sheriff Woody! Howdy howdy howdy") and adults ("Nice ascot..."). Many of the jokes are built around the toys themselves, like Mr Potato Head's desperation for a Mrs Potato Head in the first film, or Ken in TS3 getting teased for being a glorified Barbie doll accessory.
The casting in all 3 films is perfect too. Tom Hanks is brilliant in everything, but is particularly well suited to Woody, giving him an instantly likeable warmth that makes him sound like both a natural leader and a normal, down-to-earth friend. Tim Allen gives Buzz just the right amount of self-assured cockiness and confidence to make us understand why he winds Woody up so badly to begin with, but without making us dislike him ourselves. Joan Cusack handles Jessie's passionate outbursts and introspective low moments (and that song!) with just the right amount of energy and beauty. Even the various supporting cast members all manage to craft memorable characters with actually very few lines each, all things considered - Slinky for example, voiced by the late Jim Varney in the first two films and then replaced by Blake Clark in the third, barely says anything, yet is many people's favourite character and we feel like we know him almost as well as we do Woody or Buzz.
I also really love the music in the Toy Story films, which is famously written and composed by Randy Newman. You've Got a Friend in Me is the obvious classic, full of charm and warmth and optimism. I can't hear it without being transported back to the sofa of the house I grew up in, sat between my Mum and Dad and without a care in the world. It's such an iconic song in the first film that it's covered in each of the successors, first crooned by Michael Buble in TS2 and then brilliantly reimagined in Spanish by the Gypsy Kings in TS3 (Hay Un Amigo En Mi, Para el Buzz Espanol), each one closing its respective film to end it on a high note. The other two songs in the first film - Strange Things and I Will Go Sailing No More - are fantastic too. I thoroughly recommend downloading Strange Things especially, as it has a lovely bit of backing singing that you can't really appreciate in the film. All three songs are used to illustrate a character's thoughts and feelings at that time in the film, which is quite an effective device.
Pixar is unarguably one of the best film studios out there, consistently delivering incredible films that each become instant classics, and Toy Story is the film that enabled it to do that. It proved to the world, and to the people in charge of Disney's bank accounts, that feature length movies could be animated completely in CGI, and that by taking the time to ensure that a good story and characters take priority over that CGI, such films can become phenomenally successful. As such, it has rightly become iconic in the world of film, and continues to be one of Pixar's favourite franchises - despite saying goodbye in Toy Story 3, the characters are popping up in various wonderful short films such as last year's Toy Story of Terror. As long as they can continue to make children (and inner children) happy, Pixar will never quite be able to put the toys back in their toybox. They are far too awesome.
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