Bring the Kleenex to TS3

Pixar movies aren't supposed to be gut-wrenching emotional experiences. I've seen them all...from Bugs, to Monsters, to Incredibles, to Cars, to Nemo, to Wall-E, and all the way "Up". They're usually well produced with incredible CGI, comfortable plot lines, and lots of good laughs for kids and adults. And rarely do they disappoint. But at the heart of Pixar is the story that started it all...Toy Story...Woody and Buzz. My wife Laurie was pregnant with our first son when the original Toy Story came out in 1995. That son, Alex, grew up with a steady diet of continuous viewings of that movie on good old VHS video cassette. He pretty much wore that tape out. And then, shortly after our second son Adam was born, Pixar released Toy Story 2. The love affair was born all over again. By then we had switched to DVD format as our home player of choice, but the effect was the same...more continuous viewings of both movies. And by this point we had every piece of Toy Story merchandise imaginable. The boys wore Woody and Buzz pajamas and slept in Woody and Buzz sleeping bags. They dressed as Woody and Buzz for Halloween. And of course they had Woody and Buzz dolls which went everywhere with them. They lugged Woody and Buzz on vacations, to church, to sporting events, and most importantly of all, to bed each night. I can tell you right now, you should never under-estimate the bond between a boy and his favorite toy at bedtime. It's one of the most powerful bonds known to mankind. And that bond, ironically enough, is what the Toy Story movies are all about.

Alex and Adam's attachment to Woody and Buzz always seemed manufactured to me. I mean, it was brilliant marketing by Disney and Pixar of course, to make a movie about fictional toys and then market those same toys to unsuspecting children around the world. But really, how attached could my boys possibly be to these made-up toys? Try as they might, they would never be able to duplicate the same emotional attachment to Woody and Buzz as the fictional lead CGI character Andy.

I went into Toy Story 3 with the bare minimum of story background. I had heard that Andy is now 17 and preparing to head off to college... that's about it. As you might expect, the central theme of the story revolves around growing up and saying goodbye to the symbolic "toys" of our youth. And from the toy's perspective, we're shown the sad and tragic fate of toys being relegated to the attic. Sticking with the nostalgic mood of the moment, we opted to not see the 3-D version of the movie since that seemed contrary to what Woody and Buzz were all about. Woody and Buzz never needed gimmicks to be entertaining (that sounds good, but actually the real reason, at 3 bucks per ticket, the silly looking glasses are a rip-off). The movie had exceptional humor and well-crafted plot throughout, and in my mind was well on its way to being the best of the trilogy. But then came the dramatic conclusion, which took the movie to a whole new and unexpected emotional level. Without giving away too much plot, let's just say it became very apparent in the final scenes of this movie that this is truly the last we will be seeing of these iconic toys on the big screen. The farewell scene at the end was as touching and poignant as a CGI movie about toys can possibly be. I found myself choking back tears watching these fictional toys pass into the memories of youth, knowing full well I have a tub full of these same toys up in the attic of my own house. Very rapidly the final scenes were becoming emotional for me and my wife. Slightly embarrassed to be wiping the corner of my eyes with my sleeve, I glanced over at Alex and Adam to make sure they weren't witnessing my moment of weakness. Most dads do not like to get caught crying. And for me, it takes a lot to induce tears at the movies. Not counting "Schindler's List", which was created intentionally to induce tears for 3 straight hours, I cried when Rocky got back on his feet in the 14th Round, despite Mickey's plea to "Stay down!"; I cried when the Apollo 13 capsule touched down safely in the ocean; I cried when Captain Miller bit the dust in "Saving Private Ryan"; I cried when Forrest Gump read little Forrest's letter at Jenny's gravesite; and I nearly cried when Chuck loses Wilson the Volleyball in "Cast Away". That's about it for me in terms of crying during movies. (If you're keeping score, that's 1 Sly Stallone movie and 5 Tom Hanks movies, counting Toy Story 3). But when I looked over at Alex and Adam, I was stunned to see both of them crying openly. I must admit, I was pleasantly shocked. Of course, at this point I think they were both wishing they had some 3-D glasses to hide their tears behind, but there was no denying the outpouring of tender emotion they were displaying. My 4 nieces were at the movie with us, and not one of them was the least bit emotional. They thought it was a "cute" movie. They were smiling, even laughing at the movie's conclusion. They each seemed stunned to witness their cousins reduced to tears over a Toy Story.
But like I said before, never under-estimate the special bond between a boy and his favorite toys. There's a loyalty factor which girls may never understand.

Post-script: 3 weeks later, our youngest son Christopher, who did not grow up raised on Toy Story but instead grew up on Nemo and Cars, and who also seemed cynically puzzled by Alex and Adam's strange emotional reaction to Toy Story 3, was found recently sleeping in bed clutching his very own brand new Woody doll. Here we go again.