Woody, Buzz and the Gang Come to Terms With Big Changes in Toy Story 3

Pixar has not let me down before. Nonetheless, I felt some sense of trepidation when I first began seeing previews for Toy Story 3. The first two were so iconic, how could this one possibly measure up? I needn’t have worried.

The movie reunites us with several old friends from Andy’s playroom: cantankerous Mr. Potato Head (Don Rickles), shrill Mrs. Potato Head (Estelle Harris), loyal Slinky Dog (Blake Clark) and Bullseye, feisty cowgirl Jessie (Joan Cusack), the awestruck aliens (Jeff Pidgeon), insecure dinosaur Rex (Wallace Shawn), gruff pig Hamm (John Ratzenberger) and, of course, heroic space ranger Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) and stalwart cowboy Woody (Tom Hanks), the leader of the ragtag group of toys, which has grown considerably smaller.

After an exhilarating opening sequence that shows just how imaginative young Andy was, we find ourselves skipping ahead about a decade. The dreaded time of being outgrown seems to have finally arrived; the toys spend their days crammed in the toy box, cooking up fruitless schemes to attract Andy’s attention. He is off to college now, and as Andy’s mom tells him to figure out what to do with his stuff before he leaves, anxiety is running high.

In Toy Story 2, Buzz led a heroic effort to recover Woody from the clutches of an immoral toy collector while Woody struggled with the question of whether it would be worth going back to Andy if he was almost certain to cast him off one day. Woody’s devotion to Andy pays off here, as he is the one toy deemed indispensable enough to accompany him to college. But when a bag mix-up leaves his friends stranded on the side of the road, about to be picked up by the garbage, it’s the first of many times when Woody is compelled to come to their rescue. For his life may revolve around Andy, but Woody will not leave his friends in the lurch.

Toy Story 3 is a movie that can be appreciated on its own, but it’s both funnier and more poignant if you’ve followed these characters from the beginning of the trilogy. The screenplay, written by Michael Arndt, John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton and Lee Unkrich, is packed with clever references to the previous films, along with allusions to such classics as Cool-Hand Luke and Lord of the Rings and beloved toys like troll dolls and Fisher-Price's Chatter Telephone.  It’s an ensemble effort, with each toy having something to contribute as they face a series of harrowing challenges.

The bulk of the action involves Sunnyside Day Care, a deceptively pleasant-looking center where Andy’s toys, along with his sister Molly’s Barbie (Jodi Benson), wind up. Feeling betrayed by Andy and looking forward to some real playtime again, they reject Woody’s pleas to return home with him. So the cowboy sets off on his own, while Buzz and his buddies remain to discover that all is not sunny at Sunnyside, despite what the seemingly benevolent Lotso Huggin’ Bear (Ned Beatty), day care kingpin, tells them upon their arrival.

There are moments in the original Toy Story that are quite frightening, but Sunnyside offers the most terrifying scenes of the trilogy as the toys are viciously assaulted by toddlers who haven’t learned how to treat their playthings with respect. When the new arrivals dare to protest their placement, Lotso and his henchmen lay down the law, using every dirty trick in the book to keep them imprisoned. Their only hope is Woody, who, after falling into the hands of a sweet, somewhat hyperactive youngster named Bonnie (Emily Hahn), must decide whether to make a break for home immediately or attempt to bust his friends out of their dangerous detention.

The sight and sound gags in the movie are plentiful, with Buzz and Mr. Potato Head particularly rich sources for hearty laughter. The introduction of Ken (Michael Keaton) as a conflicted romantic interest for Barbie creates both tension and comedy, and the complex plan the prisoners hatch together, with each toy playing a vital part, is ingeniously plotted out and executed. The toys’ “Live together, die alone” philosophy, long nurtured by the pull-string cowboy who is to them what Jack is to the castaways on LOST, remains in force throughout the movie, even in its darkest moments, which reminded me of The Brave Little Toaster, an eerie animated movie exploring similar territory.

Meanwhile, the animated short Day & Night nicely reinforces the idea of embracing the Other that was so central to the original Toy Story.  This sweet, creative short features a pair of two-dimensional characters drawn in a retro style, but each sheds light on a landscape rendered in vivid 3-D.  Aside from a radio broadcast expounding upon the theme of getting to know those who are different, the story unfolds without words.  While visual spectacle is most apparent, each of the characters goes through a range of emotions while trying to decide what to make of this curious stranger.  A strange but beautiful short, it grew on me gradually, and by the end I was thoroughly touched.

I can’t say for certain whether this will be the last of the Toy Story movies, but if that’s the case, they’ve ended the saga well, with an action-packed, zinger-filled, emotionally satisfying hour and 40 minutes. I applaud the fact that John Morris, one of the few voice actors without a famous name, voiced Andy once again. It makes the movie feel just a little more real to know that this is the same kid from the first two movies, and now he’s all grown up. The toys’ relationship with Andy has always been central to these movies, though Andy himself gets very little screen time. Here, he feels more central than before as we wonder along with most of the characters just how he feels about his old toys now. The movie answers that question in a scene likely to prompt a tear or two from even the most stoic viewers.

Toy Story 3 is a film that both entertains and challenges. While there’s plenty there to delight young viewers, it will probably be adults who walk away most affected, especially if they were around Andy’s age or parents to children around Andy’s age when they first saw Toy Story. The animation is smoother than ever, though less ground-breaking this time around, and I don’t know that the 3-D ultimately adds much to the movie. But as impressive as Pixar has always been in the visual department, not to mention music (with Randy Newman again enhancing this outing), it’s the intricate, character-rich stories that make the movies so irresistible. This third installment with the duo who started it all demonstrates that this commitment to excellent storytelling is as strong as ever.

Up Is a Rip-Roaring Adventure That Makes You Appreciate Normalcy

A couple of years ago, I saw a piece on the evening news about a man who had traveled nearly 200 miles on a lawn chair with dozens of balloons tied to it. Though he didn't quite reach his destination before touching down again, the kid in me who's always wanted to take to the skies like Superman thought this seemed like an excellent notion. About a year after that, I began to hear about Up, featuring an old man who has the same basic idea - only this time, he takes his whole house along, intending to permanently relocate to Paradise Falls, the South American wonder where he had long ago promised to bring the love of his life. At the time, I didn't know anything about destination or motivation. I just thought, "What a way to travel!"

Up is the latest in a steady line of Pixar movies, each of which has delighted audiences with cutting-edge animation technology and warm, funny, clever stories to back it up. I saw it a little later than I intended - catching it at the dollar theater, which meant I didn't get the 3-D experience - but I'm just satisfied to have seen it on the big screen. It's a cinematic marvel that deserves the larger-than-life treatment.

Before the feature itself is a delightful appetizer in the form of the short film Partly Cloudy. In our theater, there was no title sequence, so at first I thought we were seeing a preview, and when I saw the sky littered with storks collecting and delivering little bundles of joy, I thought that Lambert the Sheepish Lion, one of my all-time favorite Disney shorts, might be getting the full-length treatment. Once I realized that this was a film in itself, however, I settled back to enjoy the wordless tale of a battered stork assigned to a stormy cloud that creates an array of dangerous youngsters for conveyance to Earth. While other storks report to puffy white clouds producing cuddly kittens and perky puppies, this unlucky bird gets stuck with crocodiles, porcupines and rams. The cloud and the stork seem to share a pleasant rapport, but how long can the stalwart stork withstand such abuse of life and limb? It's an endearing short whose aerial setting and theme of friendship flourishing amidst challenges make it an ideal opener for this particular film.

In the first previews I saw for Up, only one character was revealed: Carl Fredricksen, a crusty curmudgeon voiced by Ed Asner. We meet him moments into the movie, but not as an old man; instead, he's a wide-eyed lad in a movie theater, thrilling to the newsreel detailing the adventures of his hero, Charles Muntz. He's a quiet lad who is overwhelmed when he wanders into the playhouse of his neighbor Ellie (Elie Docter, daughter of co-writer-director Pete Docter). She is equally smitten with Muntz, despite the fact that the scientific community has now dismissed him as a fraud, and she can talk timid Carl into the ground. She prattles on with vim and vigor, but it isn't until the whirlwind conclusion of the first day of their friendship that Carl utters a verbal response to his new playmate.

What follows is a wordless montage chronicling Carl and Ellie's life together. It doesn't last as long as the majestic nearly-silent first section of WALL-E, but it manages to be just as powerful, depicting all the joys and disappointments a lifetime of love can bring. By the time we get to the scene from the previews of Carl slowly descending the stairs on a chair lift, he's not just a grumpy old man. He's that same endearing little boy, with years of experience behind him and several compelling reasons not to greet the morning with a smile. First and foremost, he is now a widower. Moreover, he feels he has failed Ellie because he never got her to Paradise Falls. And one glance out his front door shows us that he is a living anachronism, stubbornly clinging to his little technicolor dream home while a determined developer knocks out all of the houses around him.

If this were a different sort of movie - say, Herbie Rides Again, which pits feisty widow Mrs. Steinmetz against seedy millionaire Alonzo Hawk - that developer trying most diligently to get Carl into a nursing home would be the Big Bad. But after Carl finds himself backed into a corner, he abandons fight for flight. A former balloon vendor, he uses his expertise to get him one step closer to that long-deferred dream. It's an overnight job, and there's no time to air-proof his home, which is full of breakable knick-knacks. But oh, what a glorious sight when those hundreds of vibrant balloons lift him into the air and send him soaring into the blue!

Carl's spur-of-the-moment decision has huge implications. He intends to make for Paradise Falls, but he doesn't really know how to get there or what to do with himself once he does. One gets the idea that he intends to admire the landmark and then simply sit around and wait to join his wife. But earnest, chubby young scout Russell (Jordan Nagai) throws a wrench in his plans. Eager to earn his Assisting the Elderly badge, he's been buzzing around Carl's doorstep, and that's how he winds up an unintentional stowaway on his journey. His presence is lucky for Carl, since it's GPS-toting Russell who steers the house to South America after its owner is knocked out in a fierce storm. But when he comes to, Carl has a lot more responsibility on his hands than he'd bargained for, and no amount of spare change will be enough to stick Russell on a bus that will land him back at home.

As Pixar movies go, Up is fairly short on characters. John Ratzenberger makes his expected appearance as one of a handful of characters who speak before Carl's take-off; opportunities for a cameo in the wilds of South America would have been limited to talking dogs, or rather dogs telepathically linked to talking collars. They are foot soldiers in the personal army of one mysterious man voiced by Christopher Plummer; it is their job to attend to his comfort, ward off intruders and seek a long-desired quarry. The most intimidating of these is a Doberman named Alpha, the least a Golden Retriever named Dug, both voiced by co-writer-director Bob Peterson. In fact, Dug doesn't fit in with his cronies at all, and he adds to Carl's consternation when the chipper pooch adopts him as his new master. Meanwhile, Russell has befriended a brilliantly plumaged bird inclined to make strange noises. Three tag-alongs are not much help in walking the house to the edge of Paradise Falls before the helium holding it aloft leaks out, but when each of his companions is imperiled, it's time for Carl to re-examine his priorities.

Although Pixar's humans still look a little less realistic than just about everything else the animators come up with, I find square-headed Carl and pudgy Russell to be quite charming, while the bird they befriend is dazzling. This is probably Pixar's most colorful movie since Finding Nemo, and I especially love the way the colored light seeping through the windows from the balloons reflects off the surfaces inside the house, as though it were enclosed in stained glass. It's not a very busy movie; the pace is fairly sedate, though there are some exciting action sequences, including the most unconventional swordfight I've ever seen.

The dogs provide a lot of humor, with canine idiosyncrasies heightened by the often awkward syntax of their devices, leading to sentences like "I so ever do want the ball!" and "Why do I not have the surprised feeling?" Recurring jokes involving squirrels, tennis balls, a malfunctioning collar and references to Russell in his Wilderness Explorer uniform as a "small mailman" give us plenty to laugh about, though Dug's instant loyalty to Carl is at the heart of some of the film's most touching moments.

Carl's most significant relationships in the movie, however, are with Ellie and Russell. The Asian-American scout is a bundle of cheerful energy, but it turns out that he and taciturn Carl have some important things in common, and this new friendship may just be sufficient motivation for Carl to see a life as still having new possibilities. Up is a tale of adventure, but more than that, it's about the most important ingredients in a life well-lived. While many of us would love to embark upon a journey as extraordinary as the one Carl and Russell undertake, the theme of the movie can best be summed up with the boy's quiet reflection: "Sometimes, it's the boring stuff I remember the most."

I Wish I Had a Monster in My Closet!

I have yet to see Chicken Little. I’m not sure it’s going to happen, at least in the theater; I suspect it would not be an appropriate use of a trip to the big screen. Quite frankly, Disney’s latest computer animated effort looks scary, in more ways than one. It’s left me longing for the most endearing of the Disney-Pixar collaborations, most especially Monsters, Inc. How can a movie about monsters be so adorable? Why hasn’t any Disney flick since achieved that level of brilliance? (Actually, Finding Nemo came close, but no others have.)

I know Epinions needs another review of Monsters, Inc. like an ostrich needs a swimming pool, but I couldn’t resist. The premise is very clever. While the Toy Story movies imagined the everyday activities of toys while their owners aren’t looking, allowing for all sorts of creative possibilities, Monsters, Inc. subverts the old idea of the monster in the closet by showing us a world in which the monsters are just ordinary folks who provide electricity for their town by collecting the energy given off by the screams of children. The bulk of the film takes place in the titular factory, which contains a dizzying array of doors – one for every child’s room in the world. (Toward the end of the movie, we actually get to see the inner workings of the factory in a scene that reminded me both of Star Wars and The Emperor’s New Groove.) The monsters take their job of scaring the children seriously but are in fact terrified of the kiddies, as evidenced by the hilariously omnipresent task force responsible for decontaminating areas that have been touched by anything from the human world.

The variety of life in Monstropolis provides a feast for the eyes. The animators must’ve had a lot of fun with this one. Each character is distinctively freakish, with multiple eyes or limbs, fur or scales, snakes for hair or the plump body of a slug to shimmy along the floor. And yet very few of these characters seem sinister at all – the exception being Randall (Steve Buscemi), the sneaky chameleon-like rival of the film’s heroes, buddies with the incredibly working-class names James Sullivan (John Goodman) and Mike Wazowski (Billy Crystal). Sulley is a warm and fuzzy gentle giant, the steady, dependable top scarer at his company who finds himself inexplicably becoming attached to the child who mysteriously turns up in Monstropolis. Short, squat, one-eyed Mike has all the frantic energy of Donkey in Shrek. He’s sarcastic and neurotic and can’t seem to stop talking. The two make a great team, playing off one another perfectly as they strive to return the little girl Sully dubs “Boo” (Mary Gibbs) to her rightful bedroom before anyone finds out what they’re up to. Pixar still hadn’t quite perfected its portrayal of humanity yet at this point; she’s a cutie, but she seems far less realistic and vibrant than her monster counterparts. Nonetheless, she’s adorable, and the relationship that develops between her and Sulley becomes the heart of the film. Meanwhile, her antics ring amusingly true for anyone who has ever had to babysit a toddler.

Though Mike and Sulley get the most attention, there are a number of monsters to whom we are introduced. There’s Roz (Bob Peterson), the slug-like, grating secretary always after Mike to complete his paperwork, and Celia (Jennifer Tilly), his easily offended girlfriend whose snake-filled hair rattles when she’s angry. There’s the apparently paternal boss, Henry J. Waternoose III (James Coburn); the nerdy and servile Fungus (Frank Oz); the obligatory John Ratzenberger character (the gregarious Yeti) and plenty of other amusing characters. While the inclusion of Boo and the rampant slapstick are appealing to the youngest crowd, there are plenty of jokes and references especially for adults. The absolute silliness of the child contamination task force allowed an opportunity to laugh a bit at the anthrax scare that had the country in its icy grip when the movie came out. Monstropolis’ energy crisis also hits close to home; if only the solution for us were as simple as the one Sulley hits upon!

Monsters, Inc. is hilarious and heart-warming, one of the best animated movies I’ve ever seen. Let’s hope there are still a couple more where that came from.

You'll Find Few Fish Flicks to Top Finding Nemo

Cinematically speaking, 2003 was all about one thing for me: the 12-month-long hiatus between The Two Towers and The Return of the King. Fortunately, there were a few films throughout the year that helped keep my mind off the wait. Second-hand Lions, featuring the formidable triple-threat of Haley Joel Osment, Robert Duvall and Michael Caine. From Justin to Kelly, by the sheer virtue of negative comparison. And then there was a little flick by the name of Finding Nemo…

I’m an unabashed Disney enthusiast, though I’ve tended to find the quality of their recent output largely unpredictable. I can no longer assume that I will enjoy most of the movies that bear the Disney label. Disney / Pixar, however, is another matter. This is a glorious collaboration that unfortunately is coming to an end after a string of masterpieces. When Toy Story first hit the theaters, computer animation as it was utilized in the film was a novel concept. By last year, audiences were fairly used to the medium, but Finding Nemo presented the most gloriously eye-catching animation yet. As one friend of mine put it, the film was visually very “pleasing.” All that ultramarine water through which the movie’s brightly-colored inhabitants traveled was just the ticket to cool off an audience wilting their way through a sweltering summer.

Finding Nemo focuses on two complementary quests: little clownfish Nemo’s (Alexander Gould) efforts to escape from the aquarium in the office of the dentist who swiped him from the ocean and his father Marlin’s (Albert Brooks) journey, aided and hindered by the forgetful blue tang Dory (Ellen Degeneres), to get his son back. Because Nemo is the lone survivor of a predatory attack that killed his hundreds of unborn siblings and his mother, he bears the distinguishing mark of an undersized fin. While this gives the neurotically protective Marlin another reason to fret about his son’s fragility, it only serves as an obstacle for Nemo to overcome.

After his first attempt to prove his courage landed him in the aquarium, Nemo must rely on his resourcefulness and his new friends to help get him out again. Among his colorful companions: Gill (Willem Dafoe), moorish idol with scars recalling his days out in the ocean; Gurgle (Austin Pendleton), a gramma obsessed with cleanliness; Peach (Allison Janney), a starfish who serves as tank lookout; Bubbles (Stephen Root), a yellow tang in love with the aquarium’s bubbles; Jacques (John Ranft), a shrimp who makes it his business to clean everything in the tank, including his companions; Bloat (Brad Garrett), a puffer fish who has a tendency to expand into a sphere when he’s stressed out; and Deb (Vicki Lewis), a damselfish who believes her reflection in the aquarium glass is actually a twin sister named Flo.

The tank is a pleasant enough place on the whole, but Nemo misses home. His desire to leave is lent urgency when the fish discover the dentist, a man who comes across as decent enough but dim-witted, announces his intention to present Nemo as a birthday present to his niece, who is notorious for shaking her previous pets to death. Led by Gill and aided by Nigel (Geoffrey Rush), a bumbling but magnanimous pelican willing to help any creature in need, as long as it isn’t a seagull, he plots a daring escape.

But the main storyline involves the quest of Marlin and Dory. Together, the wimpy clownfish and ever-bubbly tang encounter a number of frightening situations. They find themselves in the company of a group of sharks, led by the charming Bruce (Barry Humphries), who have difficulty abiding by their encouraging mantra of “Fish are friends, not food.” They are lured into the clutches of a grotesque bottom feeder. They must cross a stretch full of jellyfish after failing to follow the advice of a school of silver fish, whose leader is voiced by Pixar regular John Ratzenberger. They fall in with a group of turtles whose easy-going leader, Crush (Andrew Stanton), teaches Marlin something about letting go. They even make the useful acquaintance of a whale, thanks to Dory’s hitherto unknown linguistic talents. Their adventures are perilous, but there is always enough humor to balance out any overriding sense of danger. Degeneres is the standout cast member here; she makes Dory an incredibly likable and memorable character who provides most of the film’s biggest laughs. Her unlikely partnership with Marlin is very touching.

Finding Nemo broke box office records and became the most celebrated movie of the summer. The film lent itself especially well to the big screen, where its bright palette of colors could be best appreciated. But the story is just as charming and the animation just as superb on a television screen. While the adventure and colorful characters enthrall children, clever dialogue reels in the adults, making it a film to be celebrated and cherished by people of all ages. It’s just a shame the partnership is coming to an end…

Toy Story Took Disney and Pixar to Infinity and Beyond

I recently learned that Disney and Pixar will be parting ways soon, after the release of the upcoming Disney/Pixar projects The Incredibles and Cars. It seems a shame that such a successful partnership should dissolve after only seven movies, but apparently Disney has had some trouble keeping its friends lately. It remains to be seen just how badly this split will hurt Eisner and company, but I suspect the loss will be felt keenly. Their five films together thus far have met with roaring success, counteracting such projects as the string of cheaply made sequels to Disney classics. Toy Story is the movie that started it all.

I don’t often get to see movies in their first run at the theater, and Toy Story had left Tinseltown before I even heard much about it. The first extensive praise I heard of film was from my ninth grade English teacher, also a friend of the family. For reasons forgotten to me now, she had offered me a ride home, and as she drove she told me how much my family and I would enjoy Disney’s latest offering. Shortly after that conversation occurred, my family dropped by the dollar theater to see for ourselves if Toy Story was really as impressive as she intimated. We were not disappointed.

The first notable thing about this film at the time of its release was the fact that it was entirely computer animated. This animation style was just becoming widespread. The first Veggie Tales video actually preceded Toy Story by a couple years, but I would not discover my beloved singing plant life until the next year. No, it was Woody (Tom Hanks) and Buzz (Tim Allen) who introduced me to the next frontier in animated films.

The story and its cast of characters were particularly suited to this new style. Such creativity and care went into the crafting of this film, most children probably gave their toys a second or third look when they got home and wondered what their playthings had been up to during their absence. The film has nods at lots of traditional childhood toys; Etch-a-Sketch, Slinky Dog (Jim Varney), Mr. Potato Head (Don Rickles), Hamm the Piggy Bank (John Ratzenberger), a troop of toy soldiers, Rex the dinosaur (Wallace Shawn), Little Bo Peep, and many others make up the supporting cast in a tale whose core relationship is between Woody, the boy Andy’s faithful pull-string cowboy, and Buzz, the high-tech space adventurer who usurps Woody’s position of favor when he arrives as Andy’s birthday gift. Buzz is a bit overconfident when he makes his debut, but he harbors no ill will toward Woody, the established leader. Woody, meanwhile, is consumed by a most unheroic jealousy that sets in motion the great adventure he and Buzz must undertake. As Buzz and Woody’s rivalry blooms into friendship, they are each able to combine the best that each has to offer in order to get them out of their precarious situation.

The toys in Andy’s bedroom interact hilariously with one another, via both the dialogue expertly delivered by the seasoned actors voicing them and the movements dictated by their particular traits. Slinky Dog’s front walks halfway across the room while his hind legs remain rooted to the floor. Mr. Potato Head loses all his facial features and reconstructs himself a la Pablo Picasso. Woody and Etch-a-Sketch challenge each other to a draw, with Woody pulling the gun from his holster and Etch-a-Sketch literally drawing a gun. There’s also a bit of romance, with Bo Peep showering affection first on Woody than Buzz and Mr. Potato Head dreaming of the day when Andy’s sister will receive a Mrs. Potato Head.

Outside of Andy’s house, the toys are no less engaging. When Woody and Buzz finagle their way into the Pizza Planet where Andy is eating dinner, they find themselves in a claw machine surrounded by adorable squeezable alien clones who speak in unison. Once they become imprisoned in the home of the sadistic Sid, Andy’s neighbor, they encounter a host of freaky toys that have all been mutilated and redesigned to reflect their owner’s ghoulish personality. These silent masses seem to pose a grave danger to Woody and Buzz, but they soon reveal themselves to be innocent victims of Sid’s operations and powerful allies against him.

Hanks is as lovable as always here, and it’s easy to forgive Woody the touch of arrogance that comes to light when he feels his position is being threatened. Allen puts just the right amount of bombast into the valiant but not too bright Buzz. Later in the film, Woody’s regret and Buzz’s uncertainty add a lovely layer of vulnerability to these initially indomitable characters. The stages of their development as individuals and in relation to one another are beautifully illustrated with Randy Newman’s evocative soundtrack.

This endearing, imaginative story of friendship set the standard for all future Pixar / Disney projects, and while I have no doubt that their last two projects will be just as rewarding, and that Pixar will be successful in future ventures, it all started with Toy Story.