About A Toy

I guess that’s enough stalling with dildo jokes. I should talk about these kids’ movies now.

-Out of context quote

Tossed Cookies

When I was a kid, I had a stuffed Cookie Monster puppet that was my favourite toy, growing up. By the end of Cookie’s hard life he had accumulated quite the laundry list of misfortunes. He had one eye missing thanks to our farm dog Shadow, who I think left the other eye as a warning to the other toys. He had a hole ripped in the back of his head that I could poke my fingers out of when using the puppet part. One arm was ripped nearly off – a product of a few too many one sided wrestling matches on my bedroom floor and (when the parents weren’t home) on my bed for the top rope moves. Poor ol’ Cookie was caked in enough grime, dirt and unidentified sticky substances that I think if I had thrown him at somebody it would have qualified as a biological weapon attack under the Geneva Convention. I loved Cookie…the way Lenny loved rabbits in Of Mice and Men. A clumsy, destructive, stuffing spilling sort of love.

After having a week to digest Toy Story 4, it occurs to me that me finally throwing Cookie Monster away was probably the kindest thing I ever did for the poor one-eyed bastard. I did try to feed him cookies when I was little but he couldn’t eat them and they just ended up smushing chocolate chips into the felt so I don’t really count that.

So I guess…thanks Pixar for making me feel retroactively guilty for not treating my toys better when I was six.

Thanks also for giving me the urge to hunt down the old action figures I gave to my nephews so that I can burn them all.

They were there for puberty…they know too much.

Toy Story 4 is a really damn good movie though, once you get past the existential nightmare that comes with considering the premise of the series for a second. Toys are alive, seemingly brought to life by the joy they bring to children. So are children the only ones who can bring inanimate objects to life? How about dog toys? What about cat toys? Those poor cat toys…

How about other toys? Toys of a more…grown up variety? Those toys bring joy too, after all. And I’m sure they are a “best friend” to more than one of their humans. All I’m suggesting is that somewhere in the world these films exist in there’s a fake dong voiced by Arnold Schwarzenegger running around having charming adventures with a sentient French Tickler played by Kate McKinnon. Along the way they learn about the power of friendship and it is magical and probably a little weird and sticky.

…moving on

I guess that’s enough stalling with dildo jokes. I should talk about these kids’ movies now. The trouble I have with this task is how do you talk about a series that is this good? Having 4 timeless classics in the series spanning 25 years (for my money, without a weak entry in the bunch) puts the Toy Story series in rarefied air. Think of how many trilogies have the wheels fall off in at least one of the entries that’s maybe not as good as the others, now go ahead and add another great goddamn movie on top of that. It’s insane how good these movies are. How do you not have that piece just devolve into a never ending series of banal Chris Farley Show “Do you remember when you were in The Beatles?” observances of just listing all the cool stuff that happens in the movies?

It’s maddening. Can I go back to making jokes? No! I’m committed to talking about this for…some reason that escapes me but I’m too far in to turn back.

Just to give you an example of the type of swirling nerd vortex a single character in these movies sends you into: in Toy Story 4, Keanu Reeves plays a Canadian themed motorcycle daredevil toy named Duke Caboom. Duke couldn’t jump as far as he did in the commercials and got thrown away as a result. Now he’s a “lost toy”, living off the grid without a particular kid to play with him, spending his time in a secret underground club for lost toys. He’s crippled with stage fright and self doubt after missing so many jumps, and is haunted by his failures to make his kid happy. Within a single character they manage to lovingly spoof the daredevil craze of the 1970’s, add a meta level joke about a character played by Keanu being explicitly, shamelessly Canadian, critique dishonest advertising culture that over-promises what the product can deliver, turn it into an effective character arc as Duke learns to embrace his talent as an expert “crasher” and illustrate how much of an apology film snobs owe Keanu Reeves in his 2010’s career renaissance as we all realize this guy was actually pretty damn cool and we were all a bit harsh on him as an actor over the years (still shouldn’t do Shakespeare though).

And that’s just one character. Each other character sends me down a similar rabbit hole of just unpacking layers like the skin of an ogre. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Shrek, that’s the point of that analogy right?

No, the only way I can think of to find a way to talk about this series without getting lost in the weeds (and making this piece even longer than my Tarantino piece…Spoiler: It’s even longer) is to chuck away all the cool little details in these films that I could get lost in to focus on the heart of them. What makes them so resonant with – at this point – 3 generations of film goers? How has a film series managed to stay relevant 25 years in, without aging poorly, becoming outdated, repeating itself, or falling on it’s face? Ultimately, it’s the stuff that kept us coming back through our eye rolling teen years when we were too cool for kid stuff, our college years when we were too busy for kids movies and then into adulthood, where we find ourselves sharing these experiences with a new generation. That’s the really good stuff. That’s the deep challenging stuff that makes the Toy Story series have more substance than your average animated kids movie. It means getting into the heavy questions the films ask about existence, obsolescence, mortality, loss, sacrifice, abandonment, privilege and radicalization raised in these films. This is a series that hasn’t been afraid to use some of the darker crayons in the box. In a genre that often talks down to kids, perhaps the most refreshing thing about Toy Story is a willingness to treat them with respect.

Not that there aren’t questions the series isn’t able to answer. Toy Story 4 is the first film in the series to actually have a toy ask the big question “How am I alive?” and the answer we get is a big fat cut-to-black because how can we possibly expect a kids’ movie about sentient toys to answer the central question of existence that has stumped religious scholars, philosophers, artists and scientists since our species cobbled together enough brain mass and free time to be able to think about such things. Not even Pixar is that good.

The Space Cowboys

If you’re in my age group (late 20’s to mid 30’s), chances are you’ve basically grown up with this series. The closest comparison I can make is the Harry Potter series, which grew up at a similar rate as it’s audience. I initially watched the first film through the eyes of a kid, who would have loved a real life Woody or Buzz Lightyear toy, had they not been “donate a testicle” expensive when the first movie came out. They are two of the most iconic pop culture figures of the last 30 years and are absolutely the heart of this series. Ok, Woody more than Buzz, but let’s talk about Buzz anyway.

I (like most kids, I imagine) liked Buzz Lightyear in the first movie, the shiny new toy, fresh out of the box full of swagger and goofy “can do” enthusiasm. Woody was kind of a stick in the mud in comparison to 10 year old me. Buzz was funny, he was energetic (if a little misguided and delusional) and he took on his strange new world with a curiosity and a gusto you commonly find in children. Buzz’s emotional journey has the most weight in the first film, as he comes to understand the nature of his world and his place within it. He’s basically our window into the world of Toy Story. He may not be a real space hero, but he approaches his “mission” in life with the same enthusiasm by the end of the first film. Woody is more world weary and self aware contrast to Buzz. Woody, having been manufactured in the 1950’s, has had a lot more time to experience the ups and downs of a toy’s existence. While Woody’s thematic through line in the films has been in dealing with loss and the ever changing impermanence of life, Buzz’s journey through the films has been one of gradually maturing into a leader.

And so it is that both characters end up echoing two different aspects of growing up. Buzz deals with the increasing responsibilities of assuming leadership (echoing each generations eventual turn at steering the ship), while Woody deals with the sometimes crappy reality of adulthood (that everything is on a gradual slide towards loss and you can just appreciate it while you have it).

As I’ve revisited the series, I’ve realized how crucial the use of it’s two lead characters has been in maintaining that tonal balance between whimsical fun and substance. While Buzz plays the comic foil to Woody’s straight man, Woody undergoes far more nuanced arcs as the films have progressed. Meanwhile Buzz gets the fantastical subplots with a lot of the more broadly comedic gags. He switches place with a doppleganger Buzz Lightyear in Toy Story 2, his settings get set to Spanish in Toy Story 3 and a recurring gag in Toy Story 4 involving him treating his voice box as Magic 8 Ball guidance system after Woody tries to explain the concept of a conscience to him.

Woody, on the other hand gets put through the existential ringer in this series. In the first film (the most basic in terms of plot and themes), he deals with his own insecurity as he feels threatened by Buzz. He learns lessons about peaceful coexistence and embracing change. He realizes that Andy’s happiness is more important than his own position in the toy hierarchy. This establishes Woody’s key motivation which is to be there for his kid and make them happy. Good stuff, but a basic start for a series that would get much more complicated.

In the second film, shit gets real as Woody is forced to choose between an impermanent future with Andy (accepting that Andy will eventually outgrow him) or essentially “selling out” and taking the easy gig as a revered collectible (but giving up his convictions in the process). Tapping into the eternal adolescent angst of the struggle between idealism and compromise. To a teenager on the doorstep of adulthood, Woody’s dilemma in the second film was the perfect mirror to the tug-o-war of that enthusiasm of childhood being tempered by the first pangs of the weight of reality and risk that come with adulthood.

Woody ultimately chooses to stay with Andy and accepts that following his convictions comes with a risk of being hurt. Failure is always an option and the only way to never fail is to never try. I’ve thought about that a lot in the context of my own life. I’ve thought about how I have neglected my own skills and talents – locked them away in a metaphorical museum case – in exchange for the safety and security of not taking risk. Part of why you’re even reading this now is me trying to break out of that case and yet the pull is always there to just go back where it’s safe.

This is where I have to mention Toy Story 2’s villain. In what can be considered the first of a long line of Pixar villains who started out as helpful only to be revealed to be rotten, Woody is betrayed by the old prospector Stinky Pete once it becomes clear that Woody wants to return to Andy. The prospector’s particular flavour of bastard takes the shape of an almost patronizing “I know what’s best for you” attitude (akin to an overbearing parent) where he’s willing to force Woody, Jesse and Bullseye to go to the museum because in his own mind they can’t be trusted to make their own choices.

Prospector is angry at being outmoded by space toys when the launch of Sputnik overnight made cowboy toys passe. He wants to get back to some level of reverence and is willing to condemn everyone else to a lifetime of being imprisoned in a plastic case.

In a lot of ways, Prospector’s hatred of space toys (and Buzz) is a dark mirror to what Woody experiences in the first film. Feeling insecure and threatened by the shiny new toy that has come along to replace him. Woody managed (through luck and circumstances which I’ll get to later) to find a way to coexist with his space toy, but Prospector never got that chance because he never got out of his box.

The prospector’s bitterness at being left on the shelf while other toys sold would be the same set up used for another Toy Story antagonist, but in the meantime things were about to get much darker.

The Plush Petty Tyrant

Toy Story 3 features Woody finally having to face the uncertain future he resigned himself to when Andy leaves for college and the toys get donated to a daycare. Along the way Woody runs into a stark reminder that the world had changed dramatically in between production of Toy Story 2 & 3. On September 11th, 2001 the world became a very different place for the Toy Story generation and the ensuing years under the George W. Bush administration illustrated how much cruelty and damage a cadre of morally bereft tyrants were capable of. Toy Story 3 was in production during the waning days of the Dubya administration and came out in the first term of the Obama administration. That nascent ember of hope burning underneath a story of oppression and cruelty was very much the sentiment of the time. Perhaps a naive optimism that the worst was behind us. A whole generation that was forced to grow up very fast in the wake of 9/11 and a pointless Iraq war was forced to watch as symbols of a more innocent childhood were nearly incinerated before our eyes in a piece of children’s entertainment.

Yeah, safe to say Toy Story 3 was working through some stuff.

Toy Story 3 features an initially cuddly and non threatening teddy bear Lotso (short for Lotso-Huggin-Bear) played with remarkable dexterity by Ned Beatty who manages to portray both the grandfatherly ally and the cold blooded (stuffing’ed?) villain once the turn comes. Lotso is eventually revealed to be a bitter twisted tyrant who locks up the newer toys in the daycare in a makeshift prison. The new toys are used ad fodder, thrown to the toddlers (depicted as terrifying monsters comprised mostly of drool, boogers and a lust for plastic destruction) in order to protect Lotso and his crew from said booger monsters.

Lotso, much like Toy Story 2’s prospector Stinky Pete, has been twisted by bad experiences into a selfish, manipulative jerk. However, while Stinky Pete’s goals (getting the whole “Woody Gang” together so they could be sold as a high priced collector set and go to a museum to be revered) were self serving, they they seem downright saintly compared to the cruel and cold-hearted Lotso. Lotso is outright abusive to his henchman Big Baby and he turns his anger at being replaced into an excuse to hurt other toys out of nothing more than petty vengeance. He uses fear to keep the other toys in line and lies to them in order to stoke that fear.

He also tortures other toys. I’m just gonna let that one sink in for a minute.

Sid in the first Toy Story seemed to be cruelly mangling toys to build his (actually very creative) hybrid toys, but Sid didn’t know the toys were sentient so I don’t really consider him a villain. Think about how much different eating a carrot would be if it could scream. Sid was a troubled kid who was channeling his issues through a creative means of expression that he didn’t realize was hurting living things. Lotso knows the toys are sentient and hurts them willingly.

Lotso is a real asshole.

Toy Story 3 takes the aphorism “give someone power and they will show you who they are” and shrinks it down to a kindergarten playroom level. The stakes may be felt and plastic rather than flesh and blood, but the emotions are always real. That’s the key. Toy Story villains aren’t trying to take over the world. They aren’t rooted in nebulous motivations or blanket “insanity” justifications. They are damaged, lonely and abandoned. Toys pushed to the emotional fringes. This series never forgets that the root of harm always comes from human failings, even when telling stories in plastic. It’s fear, anger, loneliness, greed & jealousy that drive these villains.

If Toy Story 3 was a cautionary tale about radicalization and abuse of power in a kid friendly format, Toy Story 4 is an examination of the concept of privilege that reflects the growing cultural vocabulary among young audiences to tackle more nuanced material, while also incorporating the millennial audience’s desires to address the root causes that create the Lotsos of the world, once again illustrating the series growing with it’s audience. Toy Story 4 manages to give that shrinking down treatment to complex topics such as allyship and privilege.

And yes, that means we need to bring on the SPOILER horn because we’re getting into SPOILER territory for Toy Story 4. Seriously, SPOILERS are coming.

Woody and Gabby

Toy Story 4 brilliantly subverts the expected Pixar formula by using the audience’s preconceptions of what a Pixar villain is to tell a different story. The old trick of the kind, helpful, ally turning out to be the villain has become something of a Pixar cliche after Toy Story 2, Toy Story 3, Up, and Wall-E all used some variation on it. Toy Story 4 has an antagonist who dispenses with any notion of being nice and friendly pretty much from the first moment we meet her. Gabby Gabby is set up for us to loathe her, which makes her eventual arc more meaningful.

Woody finds himself in the movie having to adjust to not being his new kid Bonnie’s favorite like he was with Andy. Indeed he rarely gets picked for play time anymore and spends most of his time gathering dust bunnies in the closet. This puts Woody finally in the position of the previous movies’ villains, and functions as his final test. It’s easy to be positive and optimistic when you’re still sitting on top of the world. This film takes away Woody’s position in order to explore how deep his convictions truly are.

On the way back to the family RV to return Bonnie’s newly made favourite toy Forky (one of the early recurring gags is Forky trying to return himself to the trash at every opportunity) Woody stumbles across an antique shop, looking for Bo Peep after spotting her lamp stand in the window. The two had a flirtatious dynamic in the first 2 movies, and Toy Story 4 does a wonderful job growing Bo’s character while also filling in where she went during Toy Story 3. In a scene early in the film, Bo offers for Woody to get “lost” with her but he wasn’t ready to leave Andy.

It’s in the antique shop he meets Gabby Gabby (Christina Hendricks). Or more accurately he meets her gangly, mute ventriloquist dummy henchman Benson as he pushes Gabby around the store in a bassinet. Gabby is basically introduced as the mob boss of this antique shop and right away we’re in familiar territory as far as Pixar villains go echoing shades of Lotso and Prospector. Gabby has 2 other dummies that work for her, but I forget their names so I’ll call them “Never Sleep Again” and “Nightmare Fuel”. Gabby is fascinated by Woody and we soon find out it’s due to him having a functioning voicebox, while hers is defective.

The film wastes no time in dispensing with the idea that Gabby is going to be helpful. While Toy Story 2 & 3 spent their time building up to the big reveal of the villains true natures, Toy Story 4 does the same thing only in reverse because we come to find out Gabby’s true nature isn’t what it seems. Gabby takes Forky hostage, after Woody is chased through the narrow corridors of the antique shop by the dummies in a surprisingly upsetting scene (depending on your level of claustrophobia and/or automatonophobia), forcing Woody to join up with Bo Peep (a returning Annie Potts) and a gang of “lost toys” who stay at the RV park playground waiting for the tourist kids to come through and play with them. Bo basically functions as the Florence Nightingale of the lost toys, who rides around in an RC controlled Skunkmobile, patching them up when the kids get a little rough. They break into the antique shop along with Buzz and rescue Forky. Meanwhile Gabby has a heart to heart with Forky and learns more about Woody’s situation.

And then, Toy Story 4 executes the subversion.

When Woody next finds himself face to face with Gabby, she doesn’t threaten him, there’s no evil monologue or action setpiece. Gabby reveals that she never had a kid or her own. Gabby’s voicebox was always defective and she was never sold as a result. She spent decades sitting on shelves until she ended up an antique that no child had ever played with. She sees the antique shop owner’s granddaughter as her last chance to experience just a little bit of the happiness that Woody has taken for granted his entire existence. She wants a chance to be there for a kid who needs her like Forky is for Bonnie. It’s a moment where Woody must confront the realization that no matter how badly he may feel for himself, there are toys who have had it a lot worse than him. Woody’s final sacrifice for Bonnie is to give up his voice box if it means getting Forky back to her, but that sacrifice ends up being a key turning point for Woody’s character which opens the door to a future he didn’t know he had.

Unfortunately, Gabby’s plan doesn’t work. In a heartbreaking moment, the little girl rejects Gabby, casually throwing her away into a nearby bin. The audible gasp I heard among the audience I saw the movie with was quite a reaction. I was recently reminded of a David Mamet quote “You can blackmail an audience into an ovation, but you can’t blackmail an audience into a gasp”. It’s one of those emotional reactions that is always legitimately earned because it’s based purely on an autonomic reaction, like goosebumps. Every person in that audience immediately had the same reaction of “Oh shit, Gabby’s going to lose it.” because this it the kind of moment that usually makes villains in Toy Story movies.

Gabby doesn’t lose it. She doesn’t monologue or swear vengeance. She just curls up sadly in the bin she was tossed into. Alone and discarded. All of her efforts to get to that one last chance were for nothing and she’s left just a heartbroken little doll feeling rejected again after a lifetime sitting on the shelf.

Woody doesn’t gloat. He doesn’t abandon Gabby to her sad fate. He offers for her to join them with Bonnie. This moment clarifies why I love Woody as a character so much. Woody always makes the offer for the villains to come with him. He always makes the offer “come with me and we’ll find a better place for you”. He never stops believing in redemption. Prospector and Lotso spurned the opportunity, but Gabby takes Woody up on his offer to try again with Bonnie.

On the way back to the RV, Gabby ends up noticing a scared little girl, who has been separated from her parents and is crying alone in a dark corner of the carnival. Gabby sees it as her chance to help and chooses to try again and I’ll admit, I’ve never been happier to be sitting at the back of the theater so that people couldn’t see the big guy rolling tears all over his M&M’s. There are few moments in films I can think of where I’ve been as invested in an outcome as this one. It instantly took me back to the time when I got separated from my family in the amusement park in West Edmonton Mall as a kid. Even though it was only for a few minutes, just that feeling of intense panic and loneliness among overwhelming noise and colours all came rushing back in that dark theater. The feeling of being alone while simultaneously surrounded by people. Remember what I said about the makers of Toy Story grounding everything in real emotions we can all tap into? Well this one hit me hard.

Toys Helping Toys – Final Thoughts

Gabby’s redemption ended up effecting me more than I had thought it would and it made Woody’s choice at the end of the film make complete sense to me as the culmination of his arc. Woody realizes that with Forky back with Bonnie, his work is essentially done as Bonnie doesn’t need him anymore and he decides to stay behind with Bo Peep and the other lost toys at the RV park.

One criticism I’ve heard of this film is that his choice was out of character for Woody, but I disagree and think it works perfectly in line with his character journey in the context of the 4th movie. The whole point of storytelling is for characters to grow and change and Woody’s motivations changing aren’t inherently bad if the reasons for that change are established. Toy Story 4 gives him those reasons, first be re-connecting him with Bo Peep who illustrates that he doesn’t need a kid to be happy or have purpose, and then through his experience with Gabby. Woody witnessing Gabby’s big moment changes his perspective in a way that gives him a new motivation in life. The scene above where I snotted into my candy, changed him and the way he looked at things. Her redemption showed him that not only could he find new purpose for himself, but he could help others find theirs as well.

Woody recognizes that with Forky, Buzz and the rest of the gang going with Bonnie, she’s in good hands and he needs to let go. Earlier in the film at his lowest, most desperate moment, he tells Bo that getting Forky back to Bonnie is all he’s got. Woody and Gabby are the same in that they both feel like they have one last chance at findin happiness, only to have someone show them a 2nd chance. For Woody, it’s Bo and the lost toys, while for Gabby it’s Woody.

Woody’s ultimate journey is in recognizing how fortunate he has been in life. He realizes, that there are broken, lonely and forgotten toys that could maybe use a little help in finding their own Andys and Bonnies. The sad, angry toys that someone is willing to offer a chance at redemption. The Prospectors, Lotsos and Gabbys that could maybe be reached before they are too far gone. Woody’s ultimate maturation is in realizing that there are toys who could use his help more than he needs to find another kid of his own. Hi journey to finding a new purpose in service of others is similar to Bo Peep who finds joy in patching up damaged toys so they can keep playing.

Woody began the Toy Story series 25 years ago with a singular motivator of his devotion to Andy. Being there for his kid no matter the obstacles put in the way andor getting back to his kid no matter the obstacles. Noble as his nature may have been, his motivations were still primarily rooted in him trying to hold onto what he had even as the impermanence of life made that impossible. The march of time inevitably made his struggle a losing battle and Woody had to change his outlook. His ultimate character arc in the 4th film is in recognizing how lucky he was to have had the time he had with Andy and Bonnie and wanting to help other toys find that happiness for themselves (whatever form that happiness takes). It’s here that Woody’s core nature of never giving up on the idea of a better world for everybody reaches it’s actualization into a real character growth moment.

If Woody had gone back to Bonnie and continued trying to cling to his dwindling relevance, it would have represented a betrayal of all that he had learned through his experiences with Gabby. He would have ended up back in the closet, continuing to gather dust or eventually discarded. Him making a choice to “get lost” before he could become that bitter, resentful toy like the villains he has encountered, shows that he has learned from their failings (and in Gabby’s case, their successes) that you can let the world provide you with a purpose or you can make the effort to find purpose. The post credit scenes of Woody and the gang rigging the carnival games to give away as many toys as possible are played for laughs, but they do support that his actions have gone from serving his own interests to finding joy in service to others. Just toys helping toys.

Man these movies are great.