There aren't many movies these days that would or could make me weep. Plainly because I like comedies and I stick to watching them. I prefer dark comedies, satires and even feel-good comedies but can’t fully sit through the slapstick variety. I stay away from intentionally soppy movies with titles that would make anyone tear up at the very sound of it e.g. "My Left Foot" (read: tragic clumsiness) and the epic "Snow falling on Cedar" which was painfully boring and not to say the very least, a formulaic Hollywood tear-jerker. Moreover, I despise clichéd movies that undermine the viewers' intelligence. OK, so I did cry at "The Joy Luck Club" which was very unfortunate, considering a name deceivingly auspicious and cheerful. My excuse was that I was already emotionally frail at the time.
I cried at Pixar's 3rd and (possibly?) final installment of Toy Story last Monday. Some of you might fall off laughing at this revelation but before you do, I want to explain for my leaky emotions over a kids' cartoon.
Simply, Pixar is genius. And Disney couldn't have partnered a more technically charged company with a sharpened sense of what drives kids to movies. Unlike Disney who churns out low quality cartoons with an often rags-to-riches theme coupled with girl-meets-boy-falls-in-love-lives-happily-ever-after bubbly ending, Pixar isn't afraid to broach issues that cut closer to the nerve. Themes of loss, abandonment, empty nest and death aren't exactly your usual Disney saccharine ingredients. But these are exactly what make Pixar cartoons likeable for adults. We weren't just there for the popcorn as we were when we suffered through "Snow White" or "The little Mermaid".
Spoilers below
Toy Story 3 opens with a video footage of young Andy playing with his toys in the usual elaborate set-up of cops and robbers. Flash forward present day, Andy is grown up and readying to leave for college and has to sort out his belongings. He is obviously conflicted as he has to either pack his loved but yet untouched toys or have them donated. The toys --all but Woody-- are accidentally thrown out as garbage during the upheaval but they steal off into a box of Molly’s (Andy’s little sister) toys destined for donation to a Daycare centre. The story then follows the adventures of how the toys cope at being manhandled by the toddlers at the Daycare centre. With Woody’s help, they escape the clutches of a disillusioned and self-centered bear. Woody & friends return to Andy's house where Andy proceeds to move them up into the attic for storage. But thanks to Woody's quick wit, Andy ends up donating his beloved toys to a gentle child named Bonnie. Even Woody -- who was originally kept aside as part of Andy's college take along -- is given to Bonnie although with obvious reluctance and heartache. The scene then fades to a close as Andy's toys watch their long-time owner drive off into the distance.
By this time, I'm willing to bet that there were no dry eyes left amongst the quietly sobbing parents. Several of my friends, also mothers, all admitted to weeping and google sites tell me that so did Dads (but just not my hubs because he might be half-robot). Yes, there were slapstick scenes that had both kids and adults in stitches and there were clever lines like one from Barbie, “Authority should derive from the consent of the governed, not from the threat of force” that had us pondering.
Sure, Pixar’s high definition graphics was a treat for the eyes but the juxtaposition of the timelessness of toys against a transient childhood made the movie darkly bittersweet. It made me think of the countless times that I’ve told my petal soft-skinned 2.5-year old to never grow up and the times that I’d wished I could freeze moments just like C.S. Lewis’s Snow Queen to have my children stay the way they are. I might be ahead of myself but it made me think of the inevitable that one day, my present furiously chaotic days would be replaced by pin drop silence when like in the final scene of Toy Story 3, I watch my children drive off into the distance. And those were the reasons behind my weepy moment that day.
I loved Toy Story 1 back as a 23-year old, enjoyed Toy Story 2 a few years after and now at an over-the-hill age, Toy Story 3 still charmed the cockles of my heart. I would have given the movie 2 thumbs up that Monday afternoon if I wasn’t so intent on drying my eyes. But my tears speak appreciative volumes.
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