Few films have captured the anxiety of a wary older generation looking at a seemingly lost youngest generation with greater perceptiveness than “Toy Story 5.” The latest addition to a Pixar franchise many hoped would conclude with the fittingly aching third installment is back, with a different spin on the fear of abandonment felt by aging humans, as held by these sentient figures. Rather than centering Woody (Tom Hanks) and Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen)—though both have a sizable influence on this narrative—this film considers Jessie (Joan Cusack), the cowgirl who came into the fold after enduring a heartbreaking abandonment decades ago. This re-centering not only allows the franchise to further explore the emotions of one of its primary characters but also interrogates the importance of play in a digital world.
That exploration jumpstarts when a now eight-year-old Bonnie (Scarlett Spears) faces the tallest struggle of them all: She needs to make friends. But Bonnie, who still plays with toys—like imagining a wedding between Forky (Tony Hale) and his plastic-knife companion (Karen Beverly) in the animated movie’s lighthearted opening scene—is different from her technophile classmates and neighbors. That gap makes Bonnie shy about asking the twin boys next door to play with her. To help their daughter, Bonnie’s parents get her a frog-shaped tablet called Lilypad… aka Lily (Greta Lee). The new device immediately causes disruption in the utopian household: Jessie, still scarred from when Emily left her, attempts to limit Lily’s control. She proclaims that what Bonnie needs is to meet friends the old-fashioned way, through playtimes and in-person conversations. Lily, on the other hand, zooms ahead with her plan to connect Bonnie with classmates via friend requests, digital invites, and online gaming, aiming to hide who Bonnie actually is while making friends with people she barely knows.
If “Toy Story 5” sounds like it straddles the line between ‘old man yells at clouds’ and cautionary tale, that’s because it does. Jessie makes plenty of soapbox speeches about what Bonnie needs and the kind of kid she thinks Bonnie is. But her assumptions are shaken when, after tagging along to Bonnie’s first sleepover, she and Bullseye are thrown back in the car after an embarrassed Bonnie becomes self-conscious about having toys. Jessie and Bullseye are eventually picked up by an elderly couple, who, upon finding Emily’s address scribbled inside Jessie’s chaps, return her and Bullseye to Emily’s former home. Instead of finding Emily, however, Jessie discovers the house has new occupants: an eight-year-old Blaze (Mykal-Michelle Harris) and her mother. Jessie’s only chance of getting back to Bonnie comes from Blaze’s discarded, obsolete devices, such as a GPS hippo called Atlas (Craig Robinson), a camera named Snappy (Shelby Rabara), and the handheld toilet-training game Smarty Pants (Conan O’Brien).
Andrew Stanton’s film, which he co-wrote with Kenna Harris, thoughtfully marries new characters with classic personalities. Because while Jessie’s adventures with the trio of devices provide two-thirds of the film, the other third involves Woody and Buzz. The writing still features the macho toys’ previous friendly rivalry while considering their present angst: Buzz is too nervous to propose to Jessie, and Woody, who returns from the fairgrounds to help his friends—like Rex (Wallace Shawn), Mr. Potato Head (Jeff Bergman), and more—confront aging. While Buzz’s personal hang-ups allow the film to subvert gender expectations by rendering Buzz as bashful, less is done with Woody. Sure, there are running bits that poke fun at his weight gain and shiny bald spot, but they remain as jokes. They never ladder into anything more existential. What does it feel like for a toy to grow old?
“Toy Story 5” abandons that question to keep focus on Jessie and her quest to unite Blaze and Bonnie. She thinks they would make great friends because they’re outcasts made so by their imagination and their love of play. Jessie’s pursuit requires her to vanquish former demons and to make peace with technology. In that sense, this film doesn’t take many risks: it’s your prototypically beautifully rendered movie tackling a heady subject in the safest possible manner. Pixar was never going to make a technophobic animated picture. But even without the possibility of this film making a grander statement beyond “we’ve got to find a balance between technology and organic living,” it does engender a couple of scenes that rise to the emotional level of the “Toy Story 3” incinerator sequence.
Admittedly, however, when I left this sequel, walking into a stormy Chicago night that caused everyone’s phones in the screening to eerily ring off with a tornado warning, I wasn’t terribly high on it. To ride out the rain, I stepped into a bar where I found a Canadian couple traveling through the city to Wisconsin for a wedding. We spoke about “Toy Story 5” and its premise, sharing stories about yesteryears where imagination was our device. They also spoke about their children and how one was enraptured by technology while the other one still played with toys.
As they spoke, I thought about Stanton’s film: his simple message to children to play and to find friends by being brave enough to show who you really are. I couldn’t help but be moved by the animated picture’s digestible message, which resonates not only with parents and children alike but also with those worried about a social media culture that values creating an impossible standard by prioritizing image over being yourself. We’re losing something uniquely human between tabs, under signal strength, and over social content. “Toy Story 5” hopes to claw us back to reality.
