It’s easy to forget that, in 1995, it was Toy Story that profoundly changed the face of animation, rendering, for the first time, a face with shine on its forehead and a realistic shadow cast under its nose. Pixar’s first feature ushered in the era of computer graphics imagery, a novelty in the mid-nineties amidst flat-cel cartoons, but now the de facto medium for children’s films. It is fitting, then, that the serialized tale comes full circle in the age of CGI ubiquity, and knocks all its competition right out of the water.
In what seems to be (and perhaps should be) the final installment of the series that launched a phenomenon, Andy, the owner of our beloved toys, is all grown-up, just like those of us who were just learning to add and subtract when the first film was released. About to go off to college, Andy must decide what to do with the “junk” sitting in his toy chest. Though he means to bring Woody, Buzz and all of their sidekicks up to the attic, his mother accidently donates them to a nearby day care center.
The story has real heart, exploring such themes as aging, abandonment and the power of the imagination. There’s not a dry eye in the house by the end. Though certainly more somber than the previous films, Toy Story 3 retains all of the humor of its predecessors. It’s packed with the same double-entendre dialogue and witty pop culture references that made 1 and 2 as entertaining for adults as they were for kids. The worst thing I can say for it is that many of the punch lines were exhausted in the trailer, leaving few laugh-out-loud moments, which isn’t so much a critique of the film itself as of its advertising.
The culmination of 15 years of technological development, Toy Story 3 is a visual tour-de-force. The graphics are dazzling, awash with brilliant colors and lifelike textures (some truly photorealistic), but unlike a lot of the recent 3D releases, it’s more than just a pretty picture.
This movie will really touch you; even if CGI isn’t your thing, and even if kid’s movies normally bore you to death, it’s so compelling that you can’t help but love it.
