I really don’t want to write a review on Toy Story 3. I’d rather be shopping watching J.J. Abrams’s Mission Impossible III (which is playing on my TV right now) and shopping on Gilt Groupe (I am seriously thinking of purchasing a Costume National Homme black belted hidden button jacket. Thoughts?) I also just had a sudden craving for some egg custard buns and other dim sum delicacies.
Nonetheless, I saw Toy Story 3 on Monday (remember, I ran into Christina Aguilera that day too!) and had decent expectations. I barely remembered anything from the sequel and I had lighthearted memories from the first one.
I didn’t want to write anything about the third (and what could be the last) installment of this computer animated story about toys because — it was just too damn good. I hate writing good reviews. Insulting something is so much easier — and fun.
The movie brings us back to Andy’s room, but things have changed. He’s nearly 18 and is about to leave for college which leaves Woody (Tom Hanks), Buzz (Tim Allen), Jessie (Joan Cusack) and the entire gang of plastic playtime pals in the toy box; abandoned and unplayed with. Andy is left with a decision to throw them out, donate them or put them in the attic. In a series of mishaps and misunderstandings (wonderfully executed by Little Miss Sunshine screenwriter Michael Arndt and his band of brilliant storytellers), Woody and company end up at the Sunnyside Daycare Center and are introduced to an endearingly shallow Ken doll with an ascot fetish (Michael Keaton, a creepy mute cock-eyed raggedy doll and their leader, and Lots-o’-Huggin’ Bear (Ned Beatty), a strawberry scented teddy bear whose down-home Southern voice is worthy of a Werther’s Original commercial — but this motley crew of toys’ actions are suspect.
Under the great direction of resident Pixar director Lee Unkrich, the story unfolds and the tears of joy start to well up; which brings me to my next point: I wasn’t in the mood to cry that night. But if you’re a softie and have a soul, certain parts of this movie will have you snot-nosed and puffy eyed. (Don’t worry, you will laugh too.)
Even though it has been 11 years since we last saw this adorably humorous bunch of self-assured space commanders, wise crackin’ potato heads, loyal slinky dogs and squeaky alien chew toys; we will never ever grow tired of them. Never. They have imprinted themselves into the cultural zeitgeist. They are timeless characters that will never be left in the toy box — so to speak. They have grown emotionally and, in this particular film, they are pieces of a lump-in-your-throat story about abandonment, acceptance, love, nostalgia and coming of age — and it resonates. It’s one of those movies that make you say, “DAMMIT! Why did you make me feel that emotion?!” — but you are so glad that you did.
Toy Story 3 will stick with you for days on end — especially with those final scenes. I know every time I think of them, I get all mushy and my lips start to quiver a la a weepy Claire Danes.
I think I am going to buy that jacket from Gilt Groupe now. It will distract me from my tears of joy that are starting to well up.
- Excited
- Fascinated
- Amused
- Bored
- Sad
- Angry
