Toy Story 5 review: If It Makes You Happy, It Can’t Be That iPad

Jessie and Bullseye in Toy Story 5

The two main characters in Toy Story 5 are named Joy and Anxiety. Wait, sorry, that was Inside Out 2. But like most outputs from the Pixar animation factory, the Toy Story franchise has always mingled childlike delight with gnawing apprehension. Its titular playthings, be they cowboys or spacemen or dinosaurs, perpetually worry about their charge’s well-being, to say nothing of their own potential obsolescence. They’ve battled maniacal prospectors and tyrannical bears and possessive dummies, but none of that has prepared them for their most daunting challenge yet: an iPad.

Technically she’s a smart tablet. Her name is Lilypad, as befits her glossy green bezel, but despite her smooth finish and smoother voice (as provided by Greta Lee), she isn’t here to make friends—at least, not with toys. Lily is the property of eight-year-old Bonnie (Scarlett Spears), the kindhearted, soft-spoken girl whom we first met in Toy Story 3, when she became custodian of the action figures and stuffed animals who previously belonged to Andy. Those relics have plenty of experience assimilating new arrivals—the thrust of Toy Story 4 involved Woody (Tom Hanks) looking after the freshly assembled Forky (Tony Hale), a misshapen utensil who was less interested in playing with children than diving into trash—but Lily represents a different sort of threat to their established ecosystem. She may have the same prime directive (ensure Bonnie’s welfare), but whereas our existing toys are products of spit-and-glue physicality, Lily operates in the digital ether, using her online functionality and programming savvy to connect Bonnie with screen-wielding peers. What is the labor of a sandcastle or the complexity of a racetrack compared to the ease of a group chat? Read More

From the Vault: Finding Nemo, 20 Years Later

[EDITOR’S NOTE: In 2003, long before MovieManifesto.com existed, I spent my summer as a 20-year-old college kid writing as many movie reviews as I could. My goal was to compile them all into a website, possibly hosted by Tripod or Geocities, which would surely impress all of the women in my dorm. That never happened—neither the compiling nor the impressing—but the reviews still exist. So, now that I am a wildly successful critic actually have a website, I’ll be publishing those reviews on the respective date of each movie’s 20th anniversary. Against my better judgment, these pieces remain unedited from their original form. I apologize for the quality of the writing; I am less remorseful about the character of my 20-year-old opinions.]

My does this movie have a pulse. This is filmmaking at its most vibrant, an indefatigable romp of breathtaking splendor. Every meticulously constructed frame is teeming with detail, so much so that our eyes despair futilely in a hopeless attempt to digest everything on screen. This visual magnificence is somehow equaled by dialogue that is delightfully droll, and a storyline that is perfect in its simplicity. Adults, check your cynicism at the door; the experience of watching Finding Nemo – the fifth full-length feature from Disney’s Pixar Animation Studios – is one of pure joy. Read More

Finding Dory: Remember, Remember, the Fish Blue and Tender

In "Finding Dory", Marlin the clownfish and Dory the tang are back for another adventure

One of the many running jokes in 2003’s Finding Nemo—that magnificent maritime adventure from Pixar Animation Studios—was that its main character, Marlin (voiced by Albert Brooks), was a clownfish but was spectacularly unfunny. In fact, Marlin was a neurotic grump, far more prone to panic than humor. He’s still grousing about anything and everything in Finding Dory, but one of his complaints stands out. “Crossing the entire ocean is something you should only do once,” he grumbles. It’s a gripe that might as well be chum to metaphor-hungry film critics—not that I have anyone in mind—looking to compare this sequel to Finding Nemo, which remains one of Pixar’s greatest achievements. The computer-animation pioneer is renowned for many things—breathtaking visuals, witty dialogue, mature themes smuggled inside kid-friendly packages—but perhaps its defining trait is its commitment to originality. This is, after all, the studio that has told tales of culinarily gifted rats, silent robots, and anthropomorphized emotions. Which brings us back to Marlin’s gloomy, profound question: Is it really worth crossing the ocean twice? That is, can a straightforward sequel really be worthy of joining the animation giant’s formidable canon?

Yes and no. What, you were expecting a straight answer? Fine, I’ll be blunt: Finding Dory is not as good as Finding Nemo. Yet even that seemingly straightforward assessment comes with a caveat, namely: so what? Comparing sequels to their originals is a reductive way of evaluating them on their own merits; that’s especially true when said original is one of the best movies of the prior decade. Finding Dory may, er, swim in the shadow of its progenitor, but that shouldn’t preclude us from weighing its standalone value as a movie. Read More