It's interesting that the only time "You've Got A Friend In Me," the song from both Toy Story films, really works, really suckers you in to the sentimentality, is when the least polished singer takes a crack at it. In Toy Story, the singers are Randy Newman and Lyle Lovett. In Toy Story 2, there are two renditions of the song, one by Robert Goulet and one by Tom Hanks, not an actor known for his singing prowess. Yet it's when Hanks sings it, about two-thirds of the way through the film, that it works, even on this umpteenth viewing, for me. Of course, Toy Story 2 is a surprisingly emotional film, more than just something for kids. Though the first two films Pixar Animation Studios did, Toy Story and A Bug's Life, were great successes commercially and critically, it's Toy Story 2 that was the hint to mainstream audiences that Pixar movies weren't just going to be fun, but something deeper than that.
What struck me first, on this viewing, is how much the animation had grown from the first film to its sequel. As I mentioned when I looked back at the original Toy Story, there's not a lot of open space to be animated, even though the characters venture outside of Andy's house. However, Toy Story 2 opens with a video-game sequence set on the home planet of Buzz Lightyear's nemesis, the evil Emperor Zurg, and the animation is markedly different, in the most impressive way possible. None of the animation in this film may be as breathtaking as that in, say, Finding Nemo or Ratatouille, but the depth to which the animation has improved here, even on an airport runway or in the details of a cheese puff, is stark.
And to think that this film was going to be sent directly to DVD. Yes, as the story goes, Toy Story 2 was the first direct-to-DVD sequel in the Pixar canon, even though Pixar animators were working on it. Then, the higher-ups at Disney got a look at what was prepared and, what do you know, it turned out the sequel might be as good as, if not better than, the original product. The amount of work put into this film's story, into the growth of the old and new characters, just makes it harder than ever to believe that this movie was ever going to be thrown away from movie theaters. What's strongest here is the subtle future hinted ahead for Woody the cowboy and Buzz: right now, they're on top of the world because they're good friends, and they have an owner who loves them. But, as the villainous Stinky Pete the Prospector points out, will Andy bring them to college? Are they making a trip to his honeymoon? Of course not. In fact, from the few rumors I've read, it just may be that Andy will be in college come the time of Toy Story 3, which arrives next summer in theaters. Where will Woody and Buzz be then?
Where will any of the toys be then? One would hope their next adventure isn't as dull as fighting away the bargain bin, but in a way, that's part of the story here. Andy's grown up, but not enough that he doesn't want to go to cowboy camp with Woody. However, when Woody's arm gets a big tear at the shoulder, Andy decides to go solo. Complications arise at a yard sale, and Woody's stolen away by Al, the owner of Al's Toy Barn, who happens to be a rare-toys collector. Woody is the prize jewel for Al, as he happens to have been the star of his own 50s TV show. Al plans to take Woody, along with Stinky Pete, Woody's horse Bullseye, and Woody's partner, Jessie, to a toy museum in Japan. Buzz, Rex the dinosaur, Mr. Potato Head, Slinky the dog and Hamm the piggy bank decide to rescue Woody from being a museum piece, but what if Woody's lured in by his long-gone fame?
Woody's fellow ex-stars are lured in by future fame and a pressing fear of loneliness. Even though Stinky Pete is one of the villains of the piece, his motive is simple: he's been on a shelf, ignored so long, that it's about time he got a moment to shine. For Jessie, she's abandoned any hope of being truly loved by a child after being given to charity by her first owner, Emily (this is information we find out in the best, most touching scene in the film, set to a Randy Newman song performed by Sarah McLachlan, "When She Loved Me," and it gets me every time). Woody wonders if his time is up, and Bullseye's too simple to become bitter, but the threat of being unloved, the very real idea of children moving away from toys to more adult things hovers over this film and, I presume, over the next film in the series, like a thundercloud.
There's, of course, much entertainment to be had from this movie. There are plenty of great action sequences, such as a treacherous walk across a busy street, the airport climax, and an elevator-set battle between Buzz Lightyear and Emperor Zurg. That last scene leads me to what's still the strongest suit in these movies: their humor. The Buzz Lightyear who fights Zurg isn't the one we know and love, but one of the many other Buzz Lightyears encountered in Al's Toy Barn. In that sequence, we get many callbacks to the original Toy Story, from similar cinematography to repeated lines to even the original Buzz wondering how deluded he used to be. In that scene and in the cleverness of how famous Woody used to be, Toy Story 2 is, if possible, sharper and funnier than its predecessor.
Of course, that's one of this film's calling cards, isn't it? It's appropriate, I suppose, that Toy Story 2 references The Empire Strikes Back a few times, as many people, myself included, have considered this film to be as good a sequel as there is. Aside from the Star Wars and Godfather series, it's hard to argue that Toy Story 2 isn't one of the best sequels ever made. We get hefty character development (one new realization for me: Al's set up as a villain best by being a walking contradiction; he owns a toy store, he collects toys, but he lives in an apartment building that doesn't allow children), we get humor, we get action, and in this film, there's pathos. Yes, some of the lines (the final line of the film in particular) may be a bit cheesy, but with actors like Hanks and Tim Allen--not to mention the fine supporting cast, including Joan Cusack, Kelsey Grammer, Don Rickles, Wayne Knight, and Pixar perennial John Ratzenberger--it's easy to gloss over the cornier lines.
Toy Story 2 works best because of its universal nature. We have all had toys, and we have all left those toys behind when we grew up. No, toys probably don't talk to each other, they probably don't have lives once we leave them by themselves, but haven't we all wondered, at some age, at some time, what happened to them when we left them? Where they went, whether they found a good home, whether they've been destroyed...it's all in the backs of our minds at some point. Toy Story 2 doesn't make you feel guilty about that, though, it's just a reinforcement that, though you probably shouldn't take any toys with you to your wedding, keeping hold of that part of your childhood is important to how you grow up, how you teach your own children, and how they do the same.
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