Essay Review: Toy Story 3

Toy Story 3 is about the only subject it could possibly be about: the departure of Andy to college and the present obsolescence and imminent demise of his toys. While Toy Story and Toy Story 2 touched on mortality even as they ultimately affirmed the importance of friendship, teamwork, and community, the third in this unlikeliest of trilogies embraces the fear of death head on. You've got a friend in me, indeed, but what happens if we're all going to the junkyard?

(warning: major spoilers ahead)


The Pixar approach of expertly blended and balanced elements of image, story, and tone is still largely in effect, but darkness sets in from the beginning. After an excellent opening sequence (which initially comes across as abandoning the series' theme of imagination in favor sequel-driven excess, until a clever reveal of when and how the scene was "built"), we are stunned to find that all the peripheral toys from the first two movies are gone, victim to breakdowns and yard sales. The most significant casualty is Bo Peep, and her emotional absence from the movie, save one early mention, is one of the film's few faults. The core group of toys - Woody, Buzz, Slinky Dog, Rex, Hamm, Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head, Jessie, Bullseye, Barbie, and the three-eyed aliens - face similar fates as Andy prepares to leave.

It becomes clear one reason the minor toys have been shelved is to make the plot mechanics of the Exodus from Andy's house easier, and the first segment of the movie strains to set their departure in motion. But the story takes off as the toys arrive at Sunnyside, a day care for children that is also a nursing home for toys (which also reverses the parent/child dynamic between children and toys; now the toys are the parents, tossed out of the house and put into a home by their ungrateful "kids"). It comes as no surprise that the initial good fortune at reaching the Sunnyside toy community, led by Lotso Huggin' Bear (voiced to perfection by Ned Beatty), gives way to ugly truths. The story develops along lines suggested by movies ranging from Cool Hand Luke to The Great Escape, before the toys take us on a journey to the abyss and back.

This is not to suggest the pace is unremittingly dark. The inventive Rube Goldberg-esque sequences the toys use to accomplish various goals continue to delight, and the introduction of a Ken doll to complement Barbie, a ticking time bomb of homophobia in the hands of lesser filmmakers, becomes the source of many of the film's funniest jokes. The interplay between Andy's toys, no matter where they find themselves, remains as enjoyable as ever, a credit to screenwriter Michael Arndt.


And yet we delve surprisingly deeper into some of the thorniest questions about the toy universe. The presence of such a large group of toys at Sunnyside opens questions of political power and class. Andy's room was small enough that Woody's leadership went mostly unexamined (although all three movies see him turned out by or abandoning his charges at one point); the derivation of his authority from his status as Andy's favorite toy is treated as a given. On the other hand, Lotso's source of power is depicted clearly: it is a combination of physical coercion, emotional manipulation, misinformation, and a clever power structure where the elites live in comfort while those on the outside, including "immigrant" toys, struggle amidst anarchy (a brief depiction of some of the elite toys gambling suggests the corruption inherent in this system). His position atop the pyramid helps Lotso transcend his initial role as a variation on Stinky Pete from Toy Story 2 and makes him more savage, even as his past renders him more tragic. In any event, the filmmakers acknowledge these complications by slipping in a quote from Locke as a throwaway joke spoken by Barbie.

While overt mention of religion is avoided, else we see humans worshipped literally as gods, it inevitably turns up subtextually in a movie about loss and death. The masterful climactic scene can only be interpreted as salvation from damnation, as the toys' descent into the hellfire of the landfill incinerator is stopped and they are lifted into the sky by an unlikely but thematically perfect source. Not only does this uncomfortably remind us that there are some crises for which there is no Rube Goldberg-style fix, it brilliantly reverses the parody of organized religion from Toy Story, and, in the toys' simple acceptance of their fate before rescue, provides one of the most powerful movie moments in recent memory.

The Pixar house style of animation is starting to feel confining, but director Lee Unkrich uses several deft moves to enrich the bright, blocky style pioneered by Toy Story (which, to be fair, also contained the Frankenstein-ian horror of Sid's house). Sunnyside in particular is terrifyingly atmospheric, from selected use of wide angle shots to the depiction of key henchmen Big Baby and a cymbal-wielding monkey. The latter, in particular, could have been merely Orwellian, but the sickly green hue of the scenes in his lair is the frosting on the cinematographic cake. The score is similarly strong; a scene in Sunnyside set to music evoking "The Rite of Spring" shows Randy Newman is capable of more than sentimental songs.

The ending, while avoiding a contrived permanent return to Andy's house, nevertheless takes a step back from the movie's convictions by giving the toys a new owner (who, while female, shares Andy's style of play). End-credit scenes of a reformed Sunnyside suggest only a small change could have produced a completely authentic finale. Still, perhaps after all they've been through, the toys deserve some element of a fairy tale ending. And it is no accident they spend the movie trying to break out of confining boxes and end it being played with -- outside and in the open.

In the end, Toy Story 3 leaves us with two enduring messages. All the resourcefulness and friendship and community in the world will not always save the day, not forever forestall the end of existence. But no matter what destination lies ahead, it matters how we get there, and the only way to make the journey is to make it together. The story of Toy Story 3 is life and death, a grand adventure, and an affirmation of the ties that bind. It is a wonderful story.