As a mother of 2 small children who experiences repeated viewings/readings/etc. of the same kids’ media ad nauseam, I have found myself growing overly critical of what is meant to be simple, innocent entertainment for small children. I share my sarcastic analyses of harmless kids’ entertainment in this ongoing feature: Stephanie Overanalyzes Children’s Entertainment.
Toy Story
Toy Story is a Disney-Pixar animated film from 1995, directed by John Lasseter and written by… a whole bunch of famous screenwriters. Wow. It was followed up with sequels: Toy Story 2 in 1999 and Toy Story 3 in 2010. Toy Story 4 is set to be released in 2019, and my family is really excited! Because for a solid 2 years Toy Story was my oldest son’s favorite thing in the whole wide world. My house is littered with Toy Story paraphernalia, and there’s at least 1 Toy Story article of clothing in my laundry every week. I have seen and listened to the 3 Toy Story movies + 2 holiday specials SO MANY more times than I ever would’ve imagined. Don’t get me wrong; I like Toy Story. This trilogy was among my favorite of Pixar’s films long before I had children. Isaac only fell in love with Toy Story in the first place because I got him hooked on them. And even after an unfathomable number of viewings, I still think these are great films.
But, folks, I have been overanalyzing Toy Story on a nearly weekly basis for about 3 years now. I have a lot to say! So much, in fact, that my over-analyses of these films can’t be contained to one post: like Toy Story itself, this is going to have to be a trilogy.
Here in part one I focus on toy life…
The First Rule of Toy Club
It could reasonably be assumed that the first law of toy-dom is “never let a human know you’re alive.” Though it is only explicitly referred to once that I can recall (Woody’s line that “we’re gonna have to break a few rules…” when making the plan to scare Sid straight in Toy Story), we see this “rule” exemplified countless times throughout the series. On one memorable occasion Woody drops limp in the middle of a gas station tarmac, only to have a semi-truck’s wheels halt millimeters from his face. And yet for beings who are seemingly willing to be brutally crushed to death rather than be seen ‘alive’, the toys at times play it awfully fast and loose with that #1 rule.
Does no one check security camera footage from ANYWHERE in this universe?! Pizza Planet, the aforementioned gas station, Big Al’s Toy Barn, the elevator in Al’s apartment building, the airport, Sunnyside daycare, the county dump – these are all locations I would reasonably guess are under surveillance. (At Sunnyside the toys USE the security cameras to spy on each other for #$!@’s sake!) And yet despite the presence of cameras, the toys freely move about in the open at all these places as long as a person isn’t actively looking at them. I’m flabbergasted the toys weren’t found out years ago based on security footage alone.
But that isn’t even the toys’ most flagrant rule breaking. You’re trying to tell me not one person saw a cowboy & an astronaut race down the MIDDLE OF THE STREET on a remote control car with a ROCKET strapped to it? And no one in law enforcement ever followed up on the massive multi-car pile up caused by self-moving traffic cones on a major downtown street? No airport workers, or neighbors, or conscious human persons noticed a LUGGAGE CART being driven around the city by TOYS? The Al’s Toy Barn scene begins with an employee walking into the store and another unseen employee greeting him… There are humans INSIDE the store when virtually all the toys have a rule-breaking bacchanal in the aisles!
Folks, I could go on and on here. It seems every time I watch it I find a new instance of toys breaking their own #1 rule. If they’re going to make a big deal of the toys having to freeze in dangerous and/or compromising positions to keep their secret at some times, then why allow them to so blatantly break their sacred rules at other times? I don’t demand reality from movies where toys can talk, but I’d appreciate some consistency.
Bulls#@!eye
My suspension of disbelief cannot stretch far enough to allow for a stuffed horse doll chasing down a taxiing airplane. It’s just… I can’t. This is a bridge too far, Toy Story 2. You lose me here every time.
Becoming Self Aware
Must all toys experience the journey to awareness that they are a toy, as Buzz Lightyear does in Toy Story? This is a detail I would simply chalk up as a flaw in the Buzz Lightyear wiring or something, were it not for Toy Story That Time Forgot. In this Christmas special, Bonnie’s toys (it takes place after Andy gives his toys to Bonnie) encounter a group of Battlesaur toys who all believe they’re actually Battlesaurs and so try to battle other toys to the death. Trixie helps Reptillus Maximus, one of the Battlesaurs, understand that he’s really a toy by leading him through a maze of the toy packaging he came in.
So it’s not just Buzz Lightyears, or even toys with wiring, who don’t initially understand they’re toys. It seems to be a condition of newly opened toys. This would suggest every toy must become self aware after being opened, which leads me to ask: why aren’t Andy’s toys a lot more compassionate & understanding of Buzz’ journey to enlightenment in Toy Story?? Shouldn’t they be rather practiced in this and be more delicate about it based on their own experiences? This line of thinking leads to the conclusion that all of Andy/Bonnie’s toys are real jerks. Exercise a little empathy, guys!
“What Really Makes Woody Special Is…”
I have a theory. I’ll be the first to admit, this theory is born from WAY too many viewings, and my husband thinks it’s crazy. But I stand behind it.
In Toy Story 3, Andy knows his toys are alive.
I don’t mean he knows in the same way Sid knows. (Although he really should because, like I said, they don’t even TRY to hide it sometimes.) I mean that on some subconscious level I think 18-year-old Andy believes his toys are more sentient than the world thinks they are. Stay with me here. When Andy finds his toys in a box (not the trash bag he originally put them in) topped with a post-it note containing a random address, he doesn’t question it. It’s almost as if he’s just used to his toys showing up in places he never put them. He doesn’t yell, “Hey Mom why did you put a note on this box instead of just talking to me about it like a normal person?” Why not? Because he doesn’t think his mom wrote the note. The post-it note triggers a look in Andy’s eyes, and that look awoke this theory in me. It’s a look in which I see Andy subliminally acknowledging to himself something he’s always felt: his toys are trying to tell him something.
If Andy really thought that Woody was inanimate, he could have retained Woody as a keepsake and felt guilt-free about not handing him over to Bonnie. (She’s clearly not lacking in toys!) But somewhere inside, Andy believes Woody has feelings & needs and that Woody WANTS to be played with. So Andy gives Woody away to keep him with his toy family & make him happy. Andy drives away, saying “Thanks, guys” to these toys who kept him company through his entire childhood. Toys whom, though he’d probably never say it out loud, he knows have life to them.
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Stay tuned for Part 2 in which I’ll focus on the ladies of Toy Story.