Toy Story 3 is an overwhelming success, rounding out what might just be the best film trilogy ever made.
Summary:
Animation, particularly when it comes out of the Disney/Pixar stable, is one of those areas of filmmaking that regularly inspires the phrase "They don't make them like they used to." In the case of Toy Story 3, however, it's more accurate to say, "They have never made them like this." It's certainly not unheard of for an animated film to be good, for a Pixar film to be great, or for the third film in a trilogy to be outstanding (though that's the rarest of the three), but in the case of Lee Unkrich's film, the sheer degree at which it exceeds at all three is not just rare, it's unprecedented.
Eleven years have elapsed since Woody (Tom Hanks), Buzz (Tim Allen) and all of Andy's favorite playthings had their last adventure -- rather, 11 years have elapsed since Andy stopped playing with his toys. Buoyed by Woody's never-failing devotion, the gang is all optimistic that Andy will elect to bring them with him to his first year of college, but as that fateful, empty-nest day approaches, it becomes clearer and clearer that the only toy that will be making the trek to school is Woody. The rest are all, by a series of unfortunate events, consigned to live out their remaining days at Sunnyside daycare. Things are actually looking up for the neglected entertainers until they realize just how careless the ankle-biters are when it comes to playing with toys.
Unfortunately, there is no escape in sight for the lovable personalities Pixar has been refining for over a decade. Lotso Huggin' Bear (Ned Beatty) runs a tight ship at Sunnyside; the new toys are just going to have to be sacrificed to the aggressive toddlers so the old veterans can have a relaxing time with their more mature counterparts. Eventually, Woody catches wind of what kind of life his old pals are being forced to live, and Toy Story 3 quite brilliantly becomes a riff on classic prison escape movies as Woody seeks to breach Lotso's security measures and bring his bunch back to Andy, where they belong. And while this on-the-run chunk of the film is some of the most thrilling material Pixar has ever delivered, it's also some of the most touching.
Unlike most sequels, not a moment of Toy Story 3 feels artificial. There's no sense that Pixar decided to make a third film because it knew that the box office would gladly support another entry; no sense that this is a cash grab (unlike a certain green ogre's most recent trip to the big screen). All of those typical sequel pitfalls are carefully avoided by a swelling sense of finality. Toy Story 3 isn't just another adventure with these characters -- there is, in fact, no doubt that this is their final adventure, their final hoorah together. Director Lee Unkrich and screenwriter Michael Arndt meticulously lead the audience along with bated breath the entire time, culminating in a life-or-death scenario for the toys that is more heartfelt and genuine than most live-action films can ever muster.
It's astonishing how the creative team at Pixar can make you forget that what you're watching is all a bunch of digital wizardry. Maybe it's the 3D this time around, maybe it's that this is the studio's most accomplished technical feat to date (there are single shots at a landfill that pack in richer detail than the entirety of the pioneering first film) that makes Toy Story 3 such an immersive experience. Or maybe it's simply because Pixar treats its property, which is ostensibly for children, with the utmost sincerity. The result is an overwhelming success, the rare kind of film that, were it a human being, would be your best friend.
One could reasonably make the case that Toy Story 3 is the single best animated film ever made. I wouldn't outright agree with such grandiose claims, but it's certainly not a baseless proposition that you'd be laughed at for bringing up. However, with part three now tucked under Pixar's belt, one could present an even better case that Toy Story is the best film trilogy ever made -- a claim I am far more comfortable signing on the dotted line for.
Eleven years have elapsed since Woody (Tom Hanks), Buzz (Tim Allen) and all of Andy's favorite playthings had their last adventure -- rather, 11 years have elapsed since Andy stopped playing with his toys. Buoyed by Woody's never-failing devotion, the gang is all optimistic that Andy will elect to bring them with him to his first year of college, but as that fateful, empty-nest day approaches, it becomes clearer and clearer that the only toy that will be making the trek to school is Woody. The rest are all, by a series of unfortunate events, consigned to live out their remaining days at Sunnyside daycare. Things are actually looking up for the neglected entertainers until they realize just how careless the ankle-biters are when it comes to playing with toys.
Unfortunately, there is no escape in sight for the lovable personalities Pixar has been refining for over a decade. Lotso Huggin' Bear (Ned Beatty) runs a tight ship at Sunnyside; the new toys are just going to have to be sacrificed to the aggressive toddlers so the old veterans can have a relaxing time with their more mature counterparts. Eventually, Woody catches wind of what kind of life his old pals are being forced to live, and Toy Story 3 quite brilliantly becomes a riff on classic prison escape movies as Woody seeks to breach Lotso's security measures and bring his bunch back to Andy, where they belong. And while this on-the-run chunk of the film is some of the most thrilling material Pixar has ever delivered, it's also some of the most touching.
Unlike most sequels, not a moment of Toy Story 3 feels artificial. There's no sense that Pixar decided to make a third film because it knew that the box office would gladly support another entry; no sense that this is a cash grab (unlike a certain green ogre's most recent trip to the big screen). All of those typical sequel pitfalls are carefully avoided by a swelling sense of finality. Toy Story 3 isn't just another adventure with these characters -- there is, in fact, no doubt that this is their final adventure, their final hoorah together. Director Lee Unkrich and screenwriter Michael Arndt meticulously lead the audience along with bated breath the entire time, culminating in a life-or-death scenario for the toys that is more heartfelt and genuine than most live-action films can ever muster.
It's astonishing how the creative team at Pixar can make you forget that what you're watching is all a bunch of digital wizardry. Maybe it's the 3D this time around, maybe it's that this is the studio's most accomplished technical feat to date (there are single shots at a landfill that pack in richer detail than the entirety of the pioneering first film) that makes Toy Story 3 such an immersive experience. Or maybe it's simply because Pixar treats its property, which is ostensibly for children, with the utmost sincerity. The result is an overwhelming success, the rare kind of film that, were it a human being, would be your best friend.
One could reasonably make the case that Toy Story 3 is the single best animated film ever made. I wouldn't outright agree with such grandiose claims, but it's certainly not a baseless proposition that you'd be laughed at for bringing up. However, with part three now tucked under Pixar's belt, one could present an even better case that Toy Story is the best film trilogy ever made -- a claim I am far more comfortable signing on the dotted line for.
SCREENSHOT:
No comments:
Post a Comment