So what did this all mean to me upon seeing that first delightful film about toys and their lives? Not a thing. If I am honest with myself, I just loved the movie because it was great. There was adventure and a relatable through line. Indeed, Toy Story went on to be one of the most watched VHS tapes my brother and I owned. 'Most watched' isn't an exaggerated term here either. For weeks on end, it was our habit to watch the same movie EVERY night before we went to bed. For those of you who have known me a long time and know my tendency to be late to everything; this was one of the early reasons for my oversleeping. I had the Toy Story toys from Burger King, I had the store bought versions -- I even bought the special cloth version of Woody hoping he'd be something like his movie counterpart. It never was. We played the video game on Genesis to completion and we recreated scenes from the film as best we could using our heroic proxies. The sheer impact of Toy Story on my life is understated but concrete. From that day forth the company Pixar was forever synonymous with Toy Story.
Such was my loyalty to this monumental film that I have not to this day ever seen A Bug's Life. Hearing that the company that produced such a beloved film had betrayed my trust as well as that of Buzz and Woody, I subconsciously decided I would never partake in the blasphemy of it all. And then they won me back with Toy Story 2 in 1999. I was thirteen now and, like Andy, I was starting to outgrow the need to open the toybox or melt Green Army men behind the garage at our apartment complex. Still though, times would call and I'd find myself prone to childlike whimsy. Toy Story 2 was wonderful. It made me feel guilty all over again for the gradual unuse my toys started to see, and for a long while I was terrified that the plight of the toys in the movie echoed that of my own toys. Toy Story 2 was a natural thing in my life as by this time Toy Story had already become ingrained in my subconscious. Seeing it was about as common sense as breathing. The wonderful part about this sequel was that it ended on a note of finality. Woody and Buzz have come to terms with the fact that, indeed, one day Andy will outgrow his use for them as all boys do, but all along the way they will be there for him. It was touching and it was hopeful. I think that on some level I was unaware, this is the very reason I was finally able to accept Pixar's next film Monster's Inc.. The story of Woody, Buzz and the gang was over insofar as it could be, and I could move on. I'll admit I never saw Monster's Inc. or Finding Nemo in theaters as I was still mildly uninterested in any Pixar movie that wasn't a Toy Story film, but with time I have gone back and they are both wonderful favorites of mine.
And then, like Andy undoubtedly did, I grew up. Growing up is never something you do on purpose; especially if you're a boy. You wake up every day and one morning eleven years later you look back and all of those things that were so important to you have been replaced with new things. New interests and new entertainments. High school gave way to college. I got a job. My family moved. The toy box was stored away in a garage. I made friends. I learned to drive. I got in trouble. I made mistakes. I got a job. I moved away from home. I lost friends I wish I hadn't. I started paying bills. I took on responsibilities. And suddenly that little boy who I was sure I still was was gone. This realization gave way to the melancholy that a time in my life had come and gone without me even knowing, and it was time to move on to whatever was next. This last Friday I saw Toy Story 3.
Toy Story 3 finds Andy all grown up and headed for college. Woody, Buzz, and the remnants of a once glorious collection of toys sit solemnly day in and day out inside a toy chest. By all accounts they haven't been given a second glance in years. Confronted with the decision to either throw away his old toys or store them away in an attic, Andy chooses to take Woody along and store away Buzz and the rest. A mix-up causes the attic-bound toys to almost find themselves garbage-bound, when through a daring set of actions instead wind up being donated to a nearby daycare. The story is the least engrossing part of Toy Story 3. This is not to say that it lacks imagination or thrill. The sheer amount of creativity that Pixar puts into every tiny nuance of this film is mind boggling. The places and adventures the toys have in this film trump in scale and in spectacle almost everything the previous two films offered. The humor is strongly in tact throughout, and watching this movie feels just like going home. This is to say nothing in this movie feels like it's forcefully recreating the magic of the first films. Though every viewer will likely have an idea of where the chips will fall by film's end, the story is no less suspenseful or enjoyable for it.
Instead, the treasure of Toy Story 3 lies in its heart. While I know that any mildly well-adjusted child will enjoy the hijinks at play in this film, I can't help shaking the feeling that Toy Story 3 was made for boys like me. The boys who first took that adventure with Woody when they were nine and had become young men in the time since. Obviously, the experiences and growing up Andy has done are not detailed and I believe that's because all of us are Andy now. There is a very specific age group of my peers that grew up with these three movies, and this third in particular speaks to us as we look back on our long lost childhoods one last time. Toy Story 3 is a story about many things. It's a story about how important our childhood is to us. It's about growing up and what that means. It's about loyalty and how you treat those around you. It's about the crushing sadness of having to let go as well as the realization that it's okay to do so because those memories are never gone from us. Toy Story 3 tells the people like me in the audience that we haven't lost that little boy we were. It tells us that somewhere deep inside the experience of childhood guided us to where we are now, and that true friends never really leave us. Through the eyes of the toys we learn about what it means to be loyal and to never give up on those who are closest to us. We learn that friendship will get us through virtually anything, and we learn how to say goodbye.
Toy Story 3 is just a movie, but somehow to me it's meant so much more. The three Toy Story films stand as a mirror of my growing up. Toy Story 3 marks the end of my childhood in a way. It's an acknowledgment of my progress in life and a reminder of all of the new things I have ahead of me without ever compromising the importance of my past. It's hard to explain to some people what a movie like this is for me, and I imagine there is only a limited subset of people who will ever fully grasp this film in a manner similar to my own. I may not have realized it along the way, but the Toy Story franchise has taught me lessons all throughout my life. It was with a certain kind of joyful sadness that I found myself in the theater choked up to the point of tears during the final fifteen minutes of this film as I realized that Toy Story was teaching me my final lesson. I'm all grown up now and Buzz and Woody and all the rest don't mean to me what they once did, but they like the franchise itself will always be a part of me in a way. If this sounds like high praise for a movie; realize that it very much is the highest praise I can give. Toy Story 3 ended up besting even my loftiest expectations and because of that and the unique place it holds in my life it stands as not only the best Pixar film ever released, but one of the best films I have seen in a very long time. Bring a box of tissues, an attitude for a good laugh, and the little kid who's right where you left him... Toy Story 3 is worth every moment.
