Once you get past paying the inflated price for an animated "3-D" movie where the 3-D feels like an afterthought and nothing floats in front of your eyes as with quality 3-D films, the story that unfolds is more sad than joyful. It's also mean spirited in a divisive way that pits toys against toys in a war-like mentality not so far removed from captured prisoners in an occupied country.
As well, the inappropriately cruel and drawn out climax sequence is too intense for younger children who will be lured into the "G-rated" film. The filmmakers go so far into Michael Bay territory that I shudder to think what the unformed mind of a five-year-old would make of such contrived suspense tactics as are employed here. When the toys travel down a long conveyer belt toward a fiery death, the filmmakers milk the sequence for all the suspense and panic they can muster. It might be right for a Transformers movie, but it's all wrong for "Toy Story."
"Toy Story 3" is about neglect, betrayal, and the planned obsolescence of plastic toys that end up as so much toxic landfill. So it's got all that going for it.
As the story goes, human boy Andy (voiced by John Morris) is off to college, and must finally put away childish things, something most boys do before junior high. Talk about arrested development–this kid isn't getting any dates.
Andy chooses to take his favorite toy, cowboy Woody (well voiced by Tom Hanks) with him to college, and pack away in his attic the rest of the toy gang that include Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen), cowgirl Jessie (Joan Cusack), and his Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head dolls (Don Rickles and Estelle Harris). Andy's careless mom–whose sense of parental responsibility is nonexistent, "accidentally" tosses out the trash bag filled with Woody's pals on the curb. Soon the gang of outcast toys — abandonment is a distressing theme smuggled into the story — are being abused by little kids at "Sunnyside" preschool where they end up.
It becomes cowpoke Woody's mission to rescue his fellow toys who are being kept as prisoners by the school's head honcho stuffed animal "Lots-o'-Huggin" Bear (Ned Beatty). Beatty's wolf-in-sheep's-clothing character poses the film's most egregious example of rendering a two-faced character who charms the new toys before showing his determinedly dastardly intentions against Buzz Lightyear after buttering up the sometimes heroic astronaut.
The story devolves into a prison escape plot where the toys break character as much as they get their plastic hearts damaged at the cruelty of their treatment by the preschool's other toys. If you're looking for an instructional movie on how to make your kids act like they're bi-polar, this is it.
Buzz Lightyear spends part of the story as a "sir-yes-sir" product of brainwashed military training while Barbie's new heart-throb Ken turns out to be one duplicitous little eunuch. Again, we have yet another two-faced character who represents all the trustworthy qualities of a Wall Street banker. Wrongheaded and overly mature for young audiences, "Toy Story 3" sends some pretty dark messages for little ones to digest. And when I say dark, I mean bordering on sociopathic. A PG-rating would have been more appropriate for a film that definitely sends all the wrong messages, even to kids over ten.
Looking at all three “Toy Story” films reveals a similar trajectory to the “Spider-Man” franchise. In both series, the second movie is unmistakably the strongest of both trilogies. The first “Toy Story” couches Woody as a jealous and somewhat vengeful cowboy. Characters are repeatedly told to “shut up.” Most questionable is the film’s ground-rule-breaking climax where the toys cross an established line of not being animated in the presence of humans. When the toys confront Sid–the evil child antagonist–it taints the climax with a flawed deus ex machina device that reveals a weakness in the writing. As well, the thematically overstated closing line, “We toys can see everything, so play nice,” hits too much on the nose.
By the time they made “Toy Story 2,” returning writer Peter Docter (writer on “WALL-E” and “UP”) and director John Lasseter (“A Bug’s Life”) had honed the tone of the franchise to a finely pitched spectrum of musically nuanced and visually lush design to support its nostalgic underpinnings. Randy Newman’s “You’ve Got a Friend In Me” theme is thoughtfully repeated. Jesse’s song about being “lonely and forgotten” arrives in an autumnal setting that’s emotionally evocative as it is gorgeous.
The filmmakers hit it rich with Woody’s discovery of his “Woody’s Roundup” television series origins. The introduction of cowgirl Jesse, trusty horse “Bullseye,” and unreliable prospector Stinky Pete gives Woody an historical context and familial connection that sophisticatedly anchors his character. Even the outtake scenes that play over the ending credits reinforce a reliability of narrative purpose that is sublimely humorous and comfortable.
An obvious split between the accomplished progression of first two movies and the inferior last installment is the departure of the enormously talented writer Peter Docter from the franchise. John Lasseter’s demotion from director of TS1 and TS2 in favor of writer/director Lee Unkrich (co-director on “Finding Nemo”) undoubtedly contributes to the lack of cohesion. Gone is the meticulous attention to color, and the glorious expressiveness of cultural touchstones expressed in “Toy Story 2.”
Rated G. 103 mins.
