MY MOVIE SHELF: Toy Story 3

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 15 Days to go: 12

Movie #425:  Toy Story 3

I’m sure this seems horribly out of order, but I bought the first two Toy Story movies eons ago, and I got Toy Story 3 just last year sometime, I think. Maybe the year before. So obviously I was going blu-ray for it, but since it wasn’t a collection, I didn’t feel the need to replace the other two. Yes, I do think about this stuff way too much. No, I’m not sorry.

It actually took me so long to buy Toy Story 3 because I really liked it, but I wasn’t as in love with it as the rest of the world. It’s great — really great — just like all the Toy Story movies are great. It tugs at my heart-strings and fills my heart and I maybe even tear up a little at the end. But I don’t think it’s the most profound, meaningful, affecting story ever told, or even the best one ever told by Pixar. To me, Toy Story 3 is merely excellent, and everyone will just have to accept that.

The movie brings us to the brink of adulthood for young Andy (John Morris), who is packing up his room for college and trying to figure out what to do with all his old favorite toys. The toys, of course, are having an existential crisis over the idea of being put in the attic, and poor Woody (Tom Hanks) is once again trying to calm them the hell down. Through a series of events and misunderstandings, however, the toys get thrown away and when they are rescued, choose the sanctity of donation to Sunnyside day care. Woody tries to reason with them, to explain the situation, but nobody is having it. (Seriously, despite being the obvious “leader” of this toy pack, nobody ever actually listens to Woody.) So they stay at Sunnyside and Woody attempts to go back home to Andy — where he, as Andy’s most prized toy, will go off to college. Because Andy’s totally going to be racking up the cool points bringing his cowboy doll into the dorms. He gets sidetracked, however, with an unscheduled trip home with Bonnie (Emily Hahn) — a sweet, imaginative little girl who takes good care of her toys — and Woody learns that no one is actually safe at Sunnyside, where an evil stuffed bear named Lotso (Ned Beatty) rules it as a fascist state.

The other toys are finding this all out as well, when they are forced into the pre-school room to be tortured and mistreated, then imprisoned when they try to escape. Mr. Potato Head (Don Rickles) rebels, but is thrown into the sandbox, and when Buzz (Tim Allen) tries to do some covert recognizance, he’s captured and returned to his factory settings, transforming him into a guard against the usurpers to Lotso’s regime. It takes some drastic measures from Barbie (Jodi Benson) to get Ken (Michael Keaton) to reveal how to reset Buzz — though he takes a delightful detour into Spanish mode — and Woody’s return for them to all work together to escape. Unfortunately, even as they leave Sunnyside, Lotso’s actions find them all plummeting into a garbage truck and heading for the dump, where things get very harrowing.

These are all familiar beats for this franchise by now, and while the sad and loving scene with Andy at the end — too grown up to really keep his toys but playing with them one more time as he turns them over to Bonnie — is incredibly touching, it’s simply another variation on a theme. All the Toy Story movies have been about growing up, growing obsolete, and being left behind. All of them are about finding true loyalty and friendship, sticking together when times get tough, and never giving up on your pals. In a very real way, all of them are about parenthood — not childhood, as most assume — because when your kids are young you are everything to them, and as they grow, new things come along to displace you, until eventually they don’t need you anymore at all. So you’d better have your own friends and loved ones to spend your golden years with, because your kids have their own lives to live. That’s how it works, in and out of Pixar animation.

They are beautiful, wonderful, fantastic movies — and Toy Story 3 is absolutely on par with the other two, not losing an ounce of quality despite being the third in the series. I love them all, I really do. And I’ll watch however many more Pixar has a mind to release.

MY MOVIE SHELF: Toy Story 2

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 149  Days to go: 101

Movie #289:  Toy Story 2

The original Toy Story is fantastic, truly. Toy Story 2 is better, I think.

In the first film, the toys’ troubles are largely insular, instigated and aggravated within their own community — and within their own insecurities. In the sequel, there are clear and identifiable nemeses — outside forces working against the toys of Andy’s room, villains for them to defeat. This makes for higher stakes, greater perils, and a more thrilling story.

This time Al (Wayne Knight), proprietor of Al’s Toy Barn, steals Woody (Tom Hanks) from the family’s yard sale when Woody goes to rescue one of the toys Andy’s mom (Laurie Metcalf) has placed for sale. Woody, see, is a rare collectible — a toy from an old-timey TV show starring Woody himself. Al needs Woody to complete his set, which includes cowgirl Jessie (Joan Cusack), horse Bullseye, and Old Prospector Stinky Pete (Kelsey Grammer), so he can sell the whole kit and kaboodle to a toy museum in Japan. Woody tries to escape on his own, but he’s injured (his arm seam popped) and both Jessie and Bullseye are loath to go back into storage. Plus someone is undermining Woody’s efforts. Woody’s friends, meanwhile, are also on a mission to rescue him. Led by Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen), a group of Andy’s toys made up of Mr. Potato Head (Don Rickles), Slinky (Jim Varney), Hamm (John Ratzenberger) and Rex (Wallace Shawn) head out into the wilds of suburbia to find and bring home their friend — with their own share of snags and pitfalls along the way.

The movie is as clever as the first, but it also features tons of hilarious and winking references to other movie blockbusters. (Probably far more than I notice, even.) There’s Slinky saying, “I may not be a smart dog, but I know what road kill is,” in homage to Hanks in Forrest Gump. There’s Rex chasing after the car that Tour Guide Barbie (Jodi Benson) is driving and being seen through the side mirror, à la Jurassic Park. There’s Evil Emperor Zurg channeling Darth Vader in all sorts of ways. And there’s Mr. Potato Head pulling an Oddjob (from Goldfinger) by flinging his hat at the closing condominium doors to hold them open.

Toy Story 2 also brings back some old favorites — like the Pizza Planet aliens Mr. Potato Head saves from certain death. (“We are eternally grateful!”) Plus Bo Peep (Annie Potts) is still around to be Woody’s girl (and to be thoroughly impressed by his new arm muscle once Andy repairs his ripped seam). And they add some new favorites as well. The end of Toy Story saw Andy’s baby sister receiving a Mrs. Potato Head (Estelle Harris), and in Toy Story 2 she and her husband are sweet and passionate lovers. And Barbie herself gets a chance to dig the original Toy Story retail marketers for not making enough Buzz Lightyear dolls to meet demand.

There are cute moments, sweet moments and, in the case of Jessie’s lost little girl Emily, quite sad moments. But the best moments are, as always, the daring rescues, the thrilling escapes, and the overwhelming excitement of playing with Andy again. Well, that and Buzz’s spontaneous wing erection when Jessie courageously helps Buster out of the room. He gets literally sprung, and that’s a reference right up my alley.

MY MOVIE SHELF: The Little Mermaid

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 208  Days to go: 210

Movie #169:  The Little Mermaid

“Under the Sea” is a fabulous, iconic song, with clever lyrics, a catchy hook and an irresistible calypso beat. And yet I’d rank it fifth among all the songs in The Little Mermaid, my favorite of all the animated Disney films, much less just the princess ones. The song isn’t even the best of the, what I call, collaboration songs, in which the various nearby sea-life are providing backups and instrumentals to Sebastian’s (Samuel E. Wright) lead vocals, despite having a “hot crustacean band.” It says a lot for the high level of quality in this soundtrack, honestly.

The fourth best song in The Little Mermaid is “Les Poissons,” another Sebastian-adjacent ditty in which Chef Louie (Rene Auberjonois, who I will always associate with Benson) sadistically delights in the mutilation of various seafood in pursuit of a delicious meal. (Sebastian doesn’t actually perform any part of the song, but he’s present in the corresponding scene, reacting in horror at the atrocities he’s witness to, and becoming Louie’s white whale, an object of hot pursuit, as “Les Poissons” ends and “Can-Can” starts up.) The juxtaposition of Sebastian’s terror with Louie’s glee is so brilliantly done, and the song itself balances French and English perfectly in a way that, even if you don’t know the French words, makes it easy to discern them.

Next we have “Kiss the Girl,” the second “collaboration” song, and this time it’s really the backups, and not the lead, that makes the song great. The “sha-la-la-las” and the “yah yah yahs” mixed with the hollow shell drumbeat, the light but soulful bass and the airy wind instruments — intimated as being created by the breeze blowing through the reeds — give an organic and mystical vibe to the performance, fitting in with the idea of the very lagoon around them communicating with Eric (ultimate Greg Brady cosplayer Christopher Daniel Barnes) to fall in love with Ariel (Jodi Benson). It’s the kind of song that incites romance, the same way something by Barry White or Luther Vandross does, and the ambiance is completed by the animation of the scene, which is playful yet intimate. (Ariel’s come-hither expression near the end of the song is enough to get anyone’s heart beating faster. I honestly don’t know what Eric’s problem is.) The kisses-interruptus by way of Flotsam and Jetsam overturning the row boat is a disappointing shock, and yet still works to augment the tension and anticipation of the two lovers coming together eventually while frustratingly delaying it for the time being (a tough balance to achieve, I think). If it weren’t for two even more amazing songs in the film, this one would easily be my favorite.

The second-best song in The Little Mermaid is coincidentally also (probably) the second-best villain song throughout Disney’s oeuvre (behind “Gaston”): “Poor Unfortunate Souls,” by that nasty sea witch, Ursula (Pat Carroll). Ursula’s throaty, bombastic sales pitch is both rousing and intimidating, and the quick asides let even a small child know where Ursula’s loyalty lies. She’s manipulative and calculating and she knows how to press all the right buttons on a naive, hopeful girl like Ariel. And the fact that she’s also one of Disney’s all-time favorite villains (in addition to being one of the most feared), should tell you a lot about her winning persuasiveness. The animation here works wonders, too, and truth be told the animation of Ursula comprises some of my favorite shots in the film. Ursula’s a big witch — an octopus — very bulbous and curvy, with undulating tentacles and undulating hips. And the thing is, Ursula is drawn very realistically to a plus-sized form. Ironically, this animated figure is not at all cartoonish. She’s not drawn to be seen as disgusting. On the contrary, her performance plays up — and pulls off — a portrayal of her as a sexy, sort of Mae West-style, madam. She’s big, yes. There are dimples and puckers and rolls, but she works every last inch of her figure to her advantage, including a spectacular shimmy a split second after using some sort of seaweed as a cathedral veil. She is fearsome, and she is perfect. But enough about her, let’s talk about the best song in the film. “After all dear, what is idle prattle for?”

I was 14 — almost 15 — when The Little Mermaid came out in theaters, which means I was fully into 15 by the time we got it on video. I watched it hundreds of times. I still had my father on a pedestal back then (even though — or possibly because — he lived clear across the country and I never ever saw him) while my stepfather was my biggest nemesis. Together, they were two halves of the film’s King Triton (Kenneth Mars). The idealized version of my dad in my head was the loving, magnanimous father version of Triton, while my stepfather was the ranting, angry, frightening one. All I wanted in the world was to be free of it all, to be grown up, to have my own place, to do what I wanted. I wanted to travel, I wanted to explore, I wanted to live. If I had been a mermaid (and who wouldn’t want to be a mermaid?), “Part of Your World” could’ve been my anthem. I longed for a place to be accepted and understood where people wouldn’t “reprimand their daughters.” “Bright young women, sick of swimmin’, ready to stand.” “When’s it my turn?” In an alternate universe, these exact phrases were all written in my personal mermaid diary. I felt everything so much, so strongly. I longed for love, I longed for freedom and I longed for adventure. “Part of Your World” captures that completely, while still being about a mermaid who doesn’t know how feet work. It’s a masterfully crafted song about that age just before you’ve grown up when you can think of nothing else. It’s exactly the age when you think you know what love is and don’t heed the advice of those who care for you and make horrible, rash decisions based on nothing but a whirlwind of emotions. And on top of that, it’s simply beautiful. The catching breath Ariel takes near the end of the song is filled with so much sorrow, pain and desire — so much desperation she’s easy pickings for Ursula. Not only that, but the animation of Ariel’s hair is some of my favorite work in the entire film and in this sequence there’s a part where she’s twirling and her hair trails behind her, with a little strand going across her face as it totally would if it were real, and it stops my heart every time. It’s simply gorgeous. Her hair, in fact, is nearly perfect this entire song, flowing and swirling through the water around her in the most beautifully realistic ways. Honestly, I can’t get enough of it.

The Little Mermaid was, I believe, Disney’s last purely hand-drawn animated film, and I think it really stands out to me for that reason. It doesn’t have the smoothed-edges feel of digital. (Not only that, but it packs an emotional wallop. Ursula’s death scene is graphic and raw and terrifying. And fantastically drawn.) I think looking at it you can tell someone painstakingly and lovingly drew each one of those scenes over weeks and months and years. That kind of dedication to something is hard enough to pull off, but to have such a team pull off something so timeless, so iconic, so emotionally authentic strikes me as nothing short of magic.

What can I say? It’s my favorite.