An essay on the themes and subtext within a sequel that almost never was.
It’s hard to believe that there was a period of time where this was supposed to be a direct-to-video sequel. The film began production in a building separate from Pixar studios because they were busy working on their second film, A Bug’s Life. When Pixar realized that they had a promising story on their hands, they upgraded the film to a theatrical release, but were still unsatisfied with the final product. Returning director John Lasseter and the team redeveloped the entire plot in one weekend and released the film on it’s scheduled release date. Whereas most Pixar films take years to develop, Toy Story 2 was compressed into nine months. Needless to say, the story of Toy Story 2’s production is dramatic, and it may rival the story behind the production for Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead as one of Hollywood’s coolest behind-the-scenes stories. To get the movie we got out of this, is a testament to the passion that drives the team at Pixar to deliver quality storytelling film after film. It’s crazy to believe that this movie is arguably better than the film that preceded it, and just as thematically rich.
Set shortly after the events of Toy Story, Toy Story 2 begins with Rex playing the Buzz Lightyear video game where he ultimately fails to defeat the evil Emperor Zurg once again. Andy is getting ready to go to Cowboy Camp for the weekend with Woody, but unfortunate events transpire that set the plot into motion. As Andy is playing with his toys before he leaves, Woody’s arm unexpectedly rips, and to avoid further damage, Woody is shelved. With a yard sale on the horizon, Woody and the toys become worried they could be sold, and former squeaking toy penguin, Wheezy, gets pulled off the shelf for sale. Woody, being caught up in his hubris as he always is, looks to rescue Wheezy from the yard sale to preserve Wheezy’s place in Andy’s bedroom. Woody’s rescue mission succeeds, but Woody finds himself stuck at the yard sale, and a greedy Al McWhiggin (voiced wonderfully by Wayne Knight), the owner of Al’s Toy Barn, takes Woody to his apartment to sell him to a museum alongside the other castmates of the classic TV Show, “Woody’s Roundup”, to be heralded forever.
Toy Story 2 was originally my least favorite of the trilogy because I always felt like the movie had the least interesting story of the bunch. Upon rewatch with a better understanding of how to actively look at a film, I slowly began to realize how special Toy Story 2 actually was. As you could expect from the title of this piece, I believe that this film tackles weighty material, and delivers. Not as subtle as Toy Story in it’s delivery, but the meaning rings soundly.
Woody’s hubris of playing a role in a child’s life, is challenged in this film. With the realization of his vast, iconic, and wide-spread history and fame, the idea of immortality comes into play. Woody meets fellow “Woody’s Roundup” pals Jesse, Stinky Pete, and trusty steed Bullseye, and he forms a relationship with them after being adamant on returning to Andy. Stinky Pete then offers up an argument about the cost of returning to a child that “broke him”. His perspective is a little clouded considering he never had the joys of being played with, and doesn’t realize that Woody’s tear was an accident, but his point is still fair game. It’s all a matter of perspective, an evolved conflict continued on from the Buzz-Woody dynamic in Toy Story, but this time that conflict results in an antagonist trying to essentially “defeat” the protagonist. The way they tinker with perspective here is fundamentally sound and adds a new dimension for the characters to explore. One where it begins to ask questions about their existence as toys.
Between Woody, Jesse, and Stinky Pete, there are varying degrees of trying to understand their place in the present as toys of the past. They’re icons, relics of the past that had their own distinct paths to where they are now. All coming from different experiences that greatly influence their decision making process. Woody has always lived a life with Andy. Loved, betrothed, essentially idolized for so many years, but his fears of no longer feeling that admiration is challenged by Jesse. A toy who has experienced living life with a child. Loved, betrothed, idolized, until her owner grew out of that era. Jesse felt abandonment, pain, and her fears became her reality in a sequence that eventually foreshadows the ending of Toy Story 3. A sequence that is more melancholic, and less of a gut punch. Opposing the silver lining of Jesse, and optimism of Woody, is Stinky Pete. A toy who never left the box or experienced the joys of playing alongside a chest full of toys. He is a character who is very cynical about his existence, and one who is only looking out for his best interests. Despite Woody’s hubris he acts out of selflessness for Andy, he eventually gets Jesse and Bullseye to join him, and this comes face to face with Stinky Pete’s perspective.
A perspective where the lifespan of a toy remains limited when tossed around the bedroom of a child. On the other hand, a toy can live for a lifetime admired by children, adults, news outlets in a glass box alongside the varying pieces of merchandise that define their short-lived iconography. This confronts immortality in a way that no movie geared towards children has any business going this far, but it does, and it does so with ease. When it comes to living on a shelf, sure there is that semblance of joy and self-congratulations, but the worth of that toy's life on a personal level has now been reduced to something tangible. Money. Instead, living a lifespan in a child’s room gives that life more worth and meaning than it would being locked up in a box and idolized for no reason other than money. As the first sequence in Toy Story shows (and even Toy Story 2 and 3), Woody went on more adventures, met new toys, and experienced life through the eyes of an imaginative child. Sure, there is a risk of harm, damage, abandonment, but facing the bad hands dealt by life is a part of the paths we walk, just as these toys do. Which sounds so incredibly silly in relation to plastic, but that shows the power of Pixar’s magic and how we can relate to it. For Woody the idea of remaining “immortal” at a museum and being loved forever sounds great; but what will he miss out on? Adventure. Adventures with toys, with Andy. Adventures that emulate the high octane thrills of “Woody’s Roundup”.
Toy Story 2 is a film that never should have come around, but the luck of the universe willed it into existence, solidifying Pixar’s ranks within the realm of animated storytelling. It is a challenging, inwards looking sequel that brings forth newer, bigger obstacles for characters to conquer. It does the job that all great sequels should, and that is exploring the characters through expansive, meaningful world building that relates to their journeys. I can’t imagine a world without Toy Story 2 in it, and how it frames the subject of immortality and life expectancy through the lens of a plastic cowboy and his friends.