No matter how you slice it, Toy Story was a groundbreaker. The first feature length Pixar film, if not the first computer animated feature film, Toy Story arrived at a time when hand-drawn animation was still a thing. And while the animation isn’t on the same level as other computer animated films in terms of animation quality, it sure did look spectacular in 1995. It helped that the characters were as memorable as they were. A friend of mine at the time liked to quote the various lines Tom Hanks said when someone pulled Sheriff Woody’s string.
Keep in mind I was in college in 1995. We weren’t kids anymore. I suppose we all just recognized a big thing when we saw it.
Let’s set aside, for a moment, that Toy Story is not quite perfect. One could suggest the plot may have been stolen from a Jim Henson-produced Christmas special, The Christmas Toy, in which a stuffed tiger doll, favorite of his child, was sure he was set to be given to the kid again at Christmas only to discover a new toy, a space-based action figure that doesn’t quite believe it is a toy, and there’s this thing where toys that are caught moving on their own “freeze,” or lose their ability to live or some such. That actually happened to a clown doll and the tiger’s best pal, a cat toy (as in, a toy for the family cat), but there’s a way to revive the frozen toys later. I’ve heard that bit, but I am inclined to give the people at Pixar the benefit of the doubt that they didn’t see that particular Muppet TV special. Let’s also set aside that the story was co-written by two people (among others) whose reputations have fallen quite a bit since this film came out, namely Joss Whedon and director/Pixar head guy John Lasseter. And there is a part of me that would really like to know what “the rules” are that Woody refers to when he works with Sid’s toys to save Buzz from a firecracker. Someone set those rules, but the point of them and what could happen if the rules are broken, well, no one says.
No, let’s set this aside and point out two things: the reason Toy Story did as well as it did it due to both the high quality of the animation and the high quality of the story itself.
For the animation, while it isn’t on par with what Pixar would be doing later–the studio likes to challenge itself with some new animation advances with many of their films–there’s a lot of good detail on display here. Texture isn’t something I tend to notice much, but it sticks out a bit here. Po Beep’s porcelain skin tends to shine under various lights while Mr. Potato Head, among others, has a plastic-looking texture to his own body. The toys all have different and unique ways of moving, owing to where their points of articulation are, to say nothing of how those movements are still in use in later sequels. Seriously, I am generally amused that Woody still runs the same way in later sequels that he does here. The attention to detail is also good. The burn mark Sid puts on Woody’s forehead is still there by the time the closing credits run and doesn’t go anywhere until Toy Story 2. The toys all look great. Organic creatures are another story. Humans look kinda wrong, and Sid’s dog Scud is probably the worst-looking thing in the film, but at the time this came out, it may not have been photo-realistic or anything, but it came a heck of a lot closer than anything drawn by hand without rotoscoping probably ever did.
But that wouldn’t amount to much without the story. If Woody (voice of Tom Hanks) and Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) weren’t both fun and funny characters that the audience could care about, it wouldn’t have mattered. The original concept for Toy Story was very different, where the Woody character was not a cowboy doll but a viscous ventriloquist dummy (if I remember right), one that tortures a small wind-up tin drummer before being tossed out a window by the other toys who have finally had enough of the much-larger character. For this film, yes, Woody does knock Buzz out a window, but it’s an accident, one made when he was setting Buzz up for a little pain, but he also instantly regrets it. Quite frankly, Woody might not mind Buzz as much if Buzz would just realize he’s a toy and not an actual Space Ranger.
It’s the two of them working together to both be better toys that makes this film what it is. Woody has to learn he’ll still be loved even if he isn’t Andy’s favorite anymore, and Buzz has to realize he’s just there to amuse a child. That is, basically, what the entire Toy Story franchise has been about too: what is life like when your only purpose is to be a plaything for a child? The first film does it on a basic level: what happens when the favorite toy isn’t the favorite anymore? The follow-ups ask that question about what happens when the kid isn’t a kid anymore and then maybe a new child needs to be found. The story always centers on Woody, a doll that is nearly pathologically obsessed with staying by Andy. For Woody, it’s a matter of support. Woody does this because he thinks Andy or the other toys might need him. It’s only when he finally realizes that he needs to live for himself that he can go off and do other things in Toy Story 4, but the fourth film, while not bad, is also not on par with the other three, so I’ll say no more about that.
Pixar basically figured out the best animation means nothing if the story that goes with it doesn’t also hook an audience. And for a while, the studio was at the top of the list for quality stories to go with quality animation. They didn’t, like Dreamworks or other studios, fill their casts with big name actors aside from maybe one big name per film. Yeah, Tom Hanks is one of the biggest stars in the world, but Tim Allen was still on Home Improvement when this came out, and his own film career hadn’t peaked yet. The rest of the voice cast is made up of memorable voices, but hardly huge stars, in the form of the likes of Don Rickles, Jim Varney, Annie Potts, Wallace Shawn, and Pixar mainstay John Ratzenberger. Is casting the late R Lee Ermey as the leader of the green army men typecasting? Possibly, but like the rest of the cast, he’s a good fit for his character.
That goes especially for Tom Hanks. Hanks was cast for the express reason that even his most despicable characters are still likable and sympathetic men. If anyone else had been Woody’s voice, there’s a good chance that this film wouldn’t have worked. And had Toy Story failed, while I doubt that it would have killed computer animation, I think it would have come out very different. I mean, what if the groundbreaking computer animated feature was Shrek or something? Nothing against Shrek, but it doesn’t hit the feels the same way that early Pixar films do, and that, more than anything else, is what Toy Story accomplished.
NEXT: Toy Story may be a familiar bit of cinematic comfort food, but up next, I have another one I have no experience with. Be back soon for the 1945 French film, made during World War II, Children of Paradise.
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