This is the last of the series and the best in some ways. Before this film, my favorite was the first, with its themes of friendship, inclusiveness and responsibility. Toy Story 3, though, has the advantage of being able to draw on situations and characters from the first two films created to develop in a deeper way. Unkrich uses this depth to go beyond the first two movies.
And the emotions do run deeper here. You have Andy, transitioning into young adulthood but still holding on to his childhood, arguing with his sister and being hesitant to leave his toys. The concluding scene of him and the young girl playing with the toys is touching, a young adult able to give up his favorite toy yet still able to engage his imagination in play. He has assimilated his childhood by the end of that scene and is ready to move to the next stage as he gets into his car alone and heads to college.
The emotions among the toys, too, are more intense. The most intense scene in the film – and possibly in the trilogy – occurs when the toys ultimately fail to escape the dump and are being sucked into the incinerator. At this point, all their ingenuity, valor and honor have failed them, and they join hands to face death, like at the end of The Wild Bunch or Butch Cassidy. That would be an emotionally moving moment in any film, and that it’s able to pack that much punch in an animated film is especially remarkable.
And Toy Story 3 shows what happens with failed personal transitions, too. Like Shen in Kung Fu Panda 2, Lots-o'-Huggin' Bear in this film has been damaged by feeling unloved and abandoned, and rather than moving on from that pain, Huggin' dwells on it, building his whole life on his unassuaged hurt. Not only does he create a repressive toy regime to compensate, but he forces his closest friends into unhappy brooding. Andy’s toys, when they learn that they weren’t abandoned, immediately move to rejoin Andy and resume their happy toy role; however, when they reveal that Huggin', too, was loved, Huggin' rejects this truth in favor of his resentment, preferring his scruffy unhappiness to healing and even going so far as to try to destroy Woody and his friends. Happily, Huggin’s friends embrace their opportunity for happiness and move out of his orbit of sadness.
And though it wasn’t a big emotional point in the movie, Woody’s decision to join his friends and stay with the little girl has some resonance. Alone among the toys, Woody has the chance to stay with Andy, but just as Andy realizes it’s time for him to give up his toys, so does Woody come to know he that he’s a toy and needs to be played with. And to stay with his friends. His decision to let Andy go is a telling, touching moment.
Toy Story 3 isn’t all serious themes, though. It’s replete with slapstick humor and witty asides. The Ken and Barby dolls, for example, offer ongoing humor. Ken is locked into the 70s and 80s, and he not only loves clothes but has nice handwriting. If he’s not gay, he’s a strong metrosexual. Barby has elegant, long fingers and poses her body with exactly the same awkwardness as the doll; she resorts regularly to tears until she hardens up under pressure, but even when capable, she’s humorously capable. There is also a lot of humor when Buzz clicks into Latin mode, becoming macho and flirty. And there are one-liners throughout. “Don’t open your mouth,” a toy tells Huggin' as the bear is strapped to the grill of a truck. The movie is full of laughs.
And like so many movies today, there are obvious nods to other movies. The droopy-eyed doll wandering the halls at night and staring sadly up at the moon owes more than a little to The Brothers Quay, and I caught a clear reference to Cool Hand Luke when Huggin' lists transgressions of his rules, each time rhythmically repeating the punishment of “into the box.”
Toy Story 3 is a fine movie, a mature film about friendship and love. And about transitions, growing up and moving on. Another Pixar home run that is very worth a couple of hours of time.
