I left the theater in 1995 after seeing the original Toy Story strangely moved. I was only six years old, and I'm not sure I had even fully grasped the revolutionary CGI for what it was (it probably just registered as animation to me, and I didn't quite understand its impact), but I did know – at least on a basic level of storytelling – that it was fantastic. Four years later I went to see the sequel with my younger sisters and felt the exact same way I had the first time. Even at a fairly young age I knew there was something special about these films.
Many times nostalgia has to compensate for quality (or lack thereof) in your perception of entertainments as you age. Suddenly Mac and Me isn't as awesome as you once found it to be. You revisit films from your childhood and learn to appreciate them based solely on the memories they conjure up, trying to block out the reality that, hey, This kinda sucks.
That never happened with the Toy Story movies. As I grew older, as I saw them more and more times, they only seemed to improve. New layers appeared – adult humour that I never appreciated when I was ten but suddenly blindsided me. Characters that revealed new depths; emotional scenes that only became increasingly poignant and meaningful, like that amazing scene where Buzz first becomes aware of his own mortality as a toy that can't really fly, or when he learns to cope with that fact by embracing the fact that he can instead fall rather well (with style).
The point of this rambling trip down memory lane is that Toy Story, the whole legacy of it, means a lot to me. I grew up with these pictures and never tired of returning to them, and they were always there for me like a good friend is. I approached Toy Story 3 with the slightest of reservations, fully trusting Pixar, and yet wondering how they could possibly produce anything that would live up to such high standards.
Well, suffice to say, they did it – if Toy Story 3 isn't the best of the series, then that's merely because it comes eleven years after the last one and it hasn't been given some time to work its full magic on us. This is every bit as engaging, heartwarming and funny as the first two films – but it's also the saddest, most human and most moving.
The plot has already been outlined by other critics, so I don't feel a need to recap anything. Nor do I want to inadvertently spoil any key moments (and please, for your own sake, avoid reading too much about the movie before going to see it – some reviewers are a bit too keen on giving away the ending, although it's understandable given how surprisingly emotional it is).
The introduction of new characters is seamless – Ken (voiced by Michael Keaton) is hilarious but thankfully not overused, and the other assorted variety of toys, including Lots-o'-Huggin' Bear (Ned Beatty), are fine additions to the series.
And Woody and Buzz (Tom Hanks and Tim Allen, respectively) pick up right where they left off, and you feel, in a weird way, like you're visiting old pals. The movie features the best animation of the trilogy, and the second half – which is darker than the two previous installments – makes excellent use of lighting and cinematography. The climactic finale is incredibly intense (especially for a "kids movie") and features particularly impressive visuals. Many reviewers have noted that they cried during the finale, and even I must admit that I came pretty close.
In a summer full of bores, disappointments and under-achievers, Toy Story 3 is not merely the first thoroughly satisfying motion picture of the season – it's the only truly moving one. It is fairly ironic, perhaps, that we must turn to movies about pieces of plastic to find such poignant reflections upon human nature, but then again, I'm not sure I'd want to have it any other way.
Many times nostalgia has to compensate for quality (or lack thereof) in your perception of entertainments as you age. Suddenly Mac and Me isn't as awesome as you once found it to be. You revisit films from your childhood and learn to appreciate them based solely on the memories they conjure up, trying to block out the reality that, hey, This kinda sucks.
That never happened with the Toy Story movies. As I grew older, as I saw them more and more times, they only seemed to improve. New layers appeared – adult humour that I never appreciated when I was ten but suddenly blindsided me. Characters that revealed new depths; emotional scenes that only became increasingly poignant and meaningful, like that amazing scene where Buzz first becomes aware of his own mortality as a toy that can't really fly, or when he learns to cope with that fact by embracing the fact that he can instead fall rather well (with style).
The point of this rambling trip down memory lane is that Toy Story, the whole legacy of it, means a lot to me. I grew up with these pictures and never tired of returning to them, and they were always there for me like a good friend is. I approached Toy Story 3 with the slightest of reservations, fully trusting Pixar, and yet wondering how they could possibly produce anything that would live up to such high standards.
Well, suffice to say, they did it – if Toy Story 3 isn't the best of the series, then that's merely because it comes eleven years after the last one and it hasn't been given some time to work its full magic on us. This is every bit as engaging, heartwarming and funny as the first two films – but it's also the saddest, most human and most moving.
The plot has already been outlined by other critics, so I don't feel a need to recap anything. Nor do I want to inadvertently spoil any key moments (and please, for your own sake, avoid reading too much about the movie before going to see it – some reviewers are a bit too keen on giving away the ending, although it's understandable given how surprisingly emotional it is).
The introduction of new characters is seamless – Ken (voiced by Michael Keaton) is hilarious but thankfully not overused, and the other assorted variety of toys, including Lots-o'-Huggin' Bear (Ned Beatty), are fine additions to the series.
And Woody and Buzz (Tom Hanks and Tim Allen, respectively) pick up right where they left off, and you feel, in a weird way, like you're visiting old pals. The movie features the best animation of the trilogy, and the second half – which is darker than the two previous installments – makes excellent use of lighting and cinematography. The climactic finale is incredibly intense (especially for a "kids movie") and features particularly impressive visuals. Many reviewers have noted that they cried during the finale, and even I must admit that I came pretty close.
In a summer full of bores, disappointments and under-achievers, Toy Story 3 is not merely the first thoroughly satisfying motion picture of the season – it's the only truly moving one. It is fairly ironic, perhaps, that we must turn to movies about pieces of plastic to find such poignant reflections upon human nature, but then again, I'm not sure I'd want to have it any other way.