REVIEW: The Existence of "Toy Story 4," Like Its New Spork Character, Proves Meaningful and Entertaining

Many classic film franchises have gone through initial endings over the last few decades, only to reemerge with a new installment years later. Star Wars comes to mind, for example, what with a 16 year gap between 1983's Return of the Jedi and 1999's The Phantom Menace, for one. There's also Rocky (a 16-year-gap between the fifth installment from 1990, and 2006's Rocky Balboa; and another nine years until 2005's Creed) and Mad Max (30 years between 1985's Beyond Thunderdome and 2015's Fury Road), to name a few. And then there's Pixar Animation Studios' Toy Story.

When the first-ever computer-animated feature film debuted in November of 1995, the world was not only introduced to pull-string cowboy doll Woody (voiced by Tom Hanks), space ranger action figure Buzz Lightyear (voiced by Tim Allen), and the whole gang of toys who came alive when no one was looking. It opened up a whole new Pandora's toybox of creative possibilities in visual effects submerged with groundbreaking, original storytelling. (This film was the first of its kind to be nominated for a Best Original Screenplay Academy Award.) The sequels that followed (in 1999 and 2010, respectfully) also took the adventures of these characters from a kid's room to a pizza parlor, to a greedy toy collector's apartment, to the airport, to a day care center, and to the garbage dump--the one place every toy dreads.

More importantly, these stories were driven by the central relationships between toys and their owners, as well as engaging character arcs (particularly for Woody, Buzz, and cowgirl doll Jessie) that went from jealous, popular and selfish, to humble, supportive, and team-oriented. You could say the main lesson in the first picture was embracing true identities and working together outside one's own little world--or toy box.

There was also the subsequent lesson in becoming socially-conscious as to what may happen when a child will one day outgrow his or her toys, despite choosing to not miss the cherished moments. Audiences first got a glimpse of this theme during a powerful montage in Toy Story 2, as Jessie (voiced by Joan Cusack) sadly recounts her previous owner growing up and losing interest in her. And when owner Andy grew up and was preparing to go to college in Toy Story 3, all the remaining toys, including Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head (Don Rickles and Estelle Harris), dinosaur Rex (Wallace Shawn), piggy bank Hamm (Pixar regular John Ratzenberger), Slinky Dog (Jim Varney, and later Blake Clarke), pantomime horse Bullseye, and the green aliens from Pizza Planet, questioned their uncertain future, until they discovered a day care center where they could potentially live without owners. Only when they realize, too little too late, that the place is really a dark prison, ruled by the tyrannical Lots'O Huggin' Bear (a character with a heartbreaking history of abandonment, and a deeply tragic worldview), do they eventually plan to make a prison break a la The Great Escape (with hilarious results) before a potentially life-threatening encounter.

Nevertheless, this third film was an entertaining and worthwhile feature, proving just how great and exceptional this franchise has improved and progressed in story and in character development. And its ending was such a tear-jerking and bittersweet farewell, that many considered it a perfect conclusion to this film series, even though it does subtly suggesting a sense of continuation and new life. And even with three subsequent short films and two television specials for ABC, a fourth Toy Story film was something nobody thought they needed, let alone thought was necessary.

In an article published by Yahoo! Movies in early 2010, Toy Story 3 director Lee Unkrich touched on the challenge and conscious decision in making a sequel, and its necessity or lack thereof:

We don’t make sequels just for the sake of making them, but in this case, we truly love these characters and this world. They’re the foundation of our company. We think of them as people. We don’t think of them as cartoon characters, and so we really wanted to visit that world again. But we didn’t want to do it if we couldn’t come up with something great (my emphasis).

Similarily, Pixar co-founder and Toy Story co-creator John Lassetter (who steps down from Pixar later this year after some unfortunate allegations from 2017) added that they didn't "want to do anything with [these characters] unless it lives up to or surpasses what's gone before." Lassetter added,

Toy Story 3 ended Woody and Buzz's story with Andy so perfectly that for a long time, we never even talked about doing another Toy Story movie. But when [co-writers] Andrew [Stanton], Pete [Doctor], Lee [Unkrich], and I came up with this new idea, I just could not stop thinking about it. It was so exciting to me, I knew we had to make this movie . . .

What initially started out as a love story between Woody and Bo Peep reportedly went through many changes (as is typically with the making of animated films), several different writers (including a draft by Will McCormack and Rashida Jones, who wrote 2012's Celeste and Jesse Forever), and a new director.

It seems only fitting that an arts-and-crafts-made spork who questions his own existence is one of the central characters in the final version of Toy Story 4, an installment whose own existence has nonetheless been questioned by many a moviegoer and/or Toy Story devotee. Admits first-time director Josh Cooley (who co-wrote the Oscar-nominated screenplay for Inside Out):

We had the same questions everybody else has right now: "I thought you guys were done." But we had those questions five years ago when we started... We love the end of [the third film], and feel like that's the completion of Woody and Andy's story. But there was more Woody story to tell."

Not only is the film not a mere cash-grab, but (according to early critical reviews and acclaim, including a near-100-percent "fresh" rating on Rotten Tomatoes) it knows what it's doing by surprising audiences with not only new characters you won't soon forget, but also with a well-crafted story that stands on its own apart from the previous three films, and yet expands and progresses it with genuine adventure, comedy and heartfelt emotion.

Andy's toys have now been passed on to a new owner: a little imaginative girl named Bonnie, who is currently making the difficult transition into kindergarten. Meanwhile, even though she promised Andy she'd take good care of all of his toys, Woody feels left out the most.

The central journey for Woody that follows come, in a way, full circle from the original film. He believes the objective of a toy is to make a child happy--in his case, to make Bonnie happy, at any cost (a parallel to parental figures wanting to be there for children). He begins to see that anew when she creates an arts-and-crafts project in school, made out of a spork, popsicle stick pieces, google eyes, and pipe cleaners, which Woody collected for her from a nearby trash bin. She aptly names her new creation Forky (hysterically voiced by Arrested Development's Tony Hale). As Woody claims, "This toy is crucial to helping Bonnie get adjusted to kindergarten."

The gang's back, but only just

What follows is a road trip adventure, as Bonnie's family (and many of the other toys) take a week-long vacation in a rented RV, while Woody tries to show Forky that his existence is not for nothing, even while wrestling with his own fears of growing up, letting go, and moving on. And when they pass a small-town antique store (named, oddly enough, "Second Chance Antiques"), the story starts taking several surprising detours from there, putting a new meaning on what toys were made for, and what it means to embrace change, independence and loyalty, and to value our time.

While it is a joy to see classic toys in brief cameo appearances, such as RC the race car, Tinny (from Pixar's classic short Tin Toy), and Combat Carl (referenced in the first movie, and seen in 2013's Toy Story of Terror), one issue that several viewers may have with this installment is the fact that many of the original toy characters (Rex, Hamm, Slinky Dog, Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head, Jessie, Bullseye) have smaller roles. Then again, many of them did have smaller roles in the first movie as well, which indicates another full-circle aspect. The real questions to consider, in this regard, are 1) What is the main story that is being told here, and 2) which characters support that story the most?

Buzz, meanwhile, goes on his own "secret mission" to help Woody, but seems to have his own crisis of conscience and self-guidance, relying on his command buttons to direct him. It would have been easier (and lazy) to have him go through the same "deluded" state as he did in the previous films. But again, he's gone through that three times already, and that role has been passed down (sort of) to Forky, which gives Buzz a fresh (and more mature, if slightly misguided) journey.

In spite of that, it's really the new toy characters (along with the return of Bo Peep, voiced with charm and empowerment by Annie Potts) that steal the show. Along with Forky, there's antique store doll Gabby Gabby (voiced by Mad Men's Christina Hendricks), who has a broken voice box, a questionable agenda, and some creepy ventriloquist dolls as henchmen, but proves a great example of a sympathetic villain (a polar opposite to previous franchise villains Stinky Pete and Lots'O). Add in carnival plush toys Ducky and Bunny (voiced by none other than Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele a.k.a. Key & Peele); miniature playset officer Giggle McDimples (voiced by Cloak & Dagger's Ally Maki); and Canadian daredevil racer Duke Caboom (voiced by none other than Keanu Reeves, proving a hilarious stroke of genius).

(Left to right) Giggle McDimples, Duke Caboom, and Gabby Gabby

Some of these characters have never experienced, and yet have longed for, what it's like to be there for a child. The most profound example (even though we're not quite sure of her character most of the time) is through Gabby Gabby, as she pines for the affections of a little girl who frequents the antique store she resides in. A heartbreaking element adds to Woody's own perspective, and as Bo Peep has challenged him to look beyond his own world of a children's bedroom and of just one child ("There's plenty of kids out there"). It's a rare and beautiful case that leads to what is arguably the film's most tear-jerking scene. (And I did cry at least twice during this film.)

The score by Randy Newman (who has been involved with all of the films) hits all the right notes, especially in the climax, which Hanks and Allen reportedly couldn't get through in the recording booth without crying. If the third film was a goodbye to Andy, this fourth adventure is a goodbye to the other toys, to old friends, and a conclusion of the hero's journey (in this case, potentially, Woody's arc), while providing a sense of continuation for others. (Please stay through the credits.) Therefore, Toy Story 4's existence does have purpose, and it does have meaning, unlike so many sequels nowadays (especially those from a disappointing summer in 2019 so far).

Pixar has gone on recent record that they are done making sequels as well as Toy Story films, beginning with next year's fairy tale comedy Onward (from Monsters University director Dan Scanlon) and currently-underwraps project Soul (from Up and Inside Out director Pete Docter). There have been reports, however, that Forky will get his own short-film adventures on the new Disney+ streaming service, which launches this November. Either way, Pixar has done a wonderful job of nurturing (and, at least for film, concluding) the legacy of this franchise. Buzz Lightyear doesn't say, "To infinity and beyond" for nothing.