by Kevin S. Baldwin
My family recently watched Toy Story 3 (2010) on DVD. Somehow in the chaos of last summer we had missed seeing that Pixar offering in the theater; something we have done without fail for the last decade. Needless to say, it was a fabulous film: Great story, worked on multiple levels, was humorous, and so on. As I continued to reflect on the film, it struck me that Toy Story 3 may be the culmination (or nearly so) of a meta narrative-arc that began with its first feature length film, Toy Story, in 1995. Collectively, these films chronicle many of the concerns of the baby boomer generation as they have matured.
Toy Story (1995) was not only the first entirely computer generated feature length film, it was also a terrific story. Though clearly set in the mid-1990's it was in many ways an homage to the childhoods of the boomers who grew up in the 1950's. The main human character, Andy, has an active imagination that he puts to good use with his toys (who have lives of their own when they are not being played with). The toy's leader is Sheriff Woody, a 1950's era cowboy. All is well in the toy ecosystem until a new “space toy” appears in the form of Buzz Lightyear, who believes he really is an astronaut. Woody's jealousy leads to an adventure worthy of a Norse saga in which both he and Buzz are separated from Andy and nearly face annihilation at the hands of Andy's sadistic next door neighbor, Sid. Order is restored when Woody convinces Buzz that a toy has a duty to be a child's play-thing. Eventually, they join forces to get back to Andy.
At another level this character rivalry reflects the increasing planned obsolescence and consumerism that took hold in the 1950's and has since accelerated. “That which must be owned immediately” is discarded when the next big thing comes along. One existential question Toy Story seems to be asking is: “How does one stay relevant and useful in a world that craves the latest and greatest?” Andy and Buzz are after all, only toys; merely stuff. What is really important are relationships. One of the enigmatic aspects of Pixar's success is the degree to which the movies have been used to sell toys. (Full disclosure: I am staring at a Buzz Lightyear action figure that is sitting on the coffee table and a veritable traffic jam of Cars 2 characters on the windowsill, courtesy of my six year old).