Toys Are Us in Toy Story 3
Fifteen years after ushering in a new era of CGI animation, and 11 years after a colossally successful pre-millennial sequel, the Toy Story franchise returns to a changed world. Its irresistible conceit and snappy good humor remain largely intact, though now it also hauls a saltier and more anxious sensibility. Inanimate figurines dont age, but they do get nicked up and discarded, and that tension between immortality and irrelevance remains the central conflict in Lee Unkrichs Toy Story 3.
Andy is all grown up and about to drive off to college, leaving the fate of his toys uncertain. Will they be stored in the attic, left on the curb for sanitation pickup, or delivered to the local day-care center? All of the above, it turns out, as the whole gang gets caught in an odyssey of compounded indignities. Fears of the unknown, of neglect and abuse, are gradually eclipsed by the threat of disposal. Identifying with plastic figures has always been essential to the series playfully perverse, aptly adolescent allure, but here, that empathy mutates into macabre existentialist dread. How many kids' movies lead their protagonists to the precipice of a flaming pit of hell?
As in TS2, this sequel begins with a flashy blockbuster parody prologue, replete with Troll doll hostages and a mushroom cloud of blood-red monkeys, before its revealed that the carnage was all born of young Andys imagination. Fast-forward to the present, where Andy has matured into a lanky, sensitive young adult (you can trace Pixars animation development on the progressively less-dead-eyed faces of the series humans). While Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) was the favored playmate in TS2, Andy chooses old pal Woody (Tom Hanks) as his college companion. But before he can depart, Woody tries to save his scorned pals from Sunnyside Daycare, initially presented as a heavenly vision of constant, grateful play and communal living. Alas, their utopia turns out to be a veritable penal colony, presided over by a despotic pink huggybear called Lotso (Ned Beatty) and his two henchmen, a lumbering lazy-eyed baby doll and Barbies swishy soul mate, Ken (Michael Keaton). After suffering the abuses of rough-housing toddlers, the group embarks on an extended, inspired prison break made possible by Buzzs daredevilry and Mr. Potato Heads reconstitution as a floppy tortilla. Yet danger persists beyond the bounds of day care.
Toy Story 3
Toy Story 3
Directed by Lee Unkrich
Pixar/Walt Disney Pictures
Opens June 18
Consistent with the advanced maturation of kid culture, this 21st-century childrens story features faster, louder, more intense action, saucier sexual innuendos (Nice as-cot, is how Barbie greets Ken), more romantic pairings than Loves Labours Lost (do toys really need life partners?), and escalating evocations of death. From cardboard-box coffins and pulverizing machinery to the aforementioned fiery pitwhich our heroes approach with solemn, hand-holding resignationthis might be Disneys most morbid family movie since The Black Hole's grim voyage to nothingness in '79.
TS3, like its predecessors, is a clever, engrossing adventure, and, like any sequel, it tries to balance continuity with novelty, the latter provided by a cadre of shiny new characters (led by a plush-toy improv troupe) in superfluous 3-D. Pixar has always wedded technological innovation to classic storytelling, and despite some unwelcome steps toward snarky Shrekification, this latest film still manages to bulls-eye the primal emotions that resonate with children of all ages. When teenaged Andy plops down on the grass to share his old toys with a shy little girl, the film spikes with sadness and layered pleasurea concise, deeply wise expression of the ephemeral that feels real and yet utterly transporting.
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