Don’t want to start at the end? Read Parts One, Two, Three, and Four.
The Prospector has tightened the screws on the ventilation grate, trapping Woody and the Roundup Gang on one side and Buzz, Deluded Buzz, and Andy’s other toys on the other. Before either group can figure out how to reopen the grate, Al shows up to gather his luggage before heading to the airport. Now the movie is in the same place where the first movie was when Buzz and Woody ran from Sid’s yard to try to catch Andy’s mom’s car. If Woody ends up to that plane to Tokyo, he will never see Andy or his friends again. There are no more reprieves, though there will be roadblocks.
Oh right, Zurg! Nearly forgot about him. Oddly enough, Zurg doesn’t end up delaying our heroes much at all. He’s content to pursue his one stated goal: to destroy Buzz Lightyear. He doesn’t even seem to notice that there’s an additional Buzz running around. Deluded Buzz is ready to do battle and that’s all Zurg needs. Rex, still heavily invested in the Buzz Lightyear storyline, watches from the sidelines as a sort of cheerleader for Buzz.
So if Zurg doesn’t actually delay Andy’s Buzz and the other toys in their attempt to rescue Woody, what is he doing? He’s wrapping up two of the film’s subplots. Rex has been obsessed with the Buzz Lightyear video game throughout the movie. The movie never delves into the reasons for this, but I suspect the game provides the same thing for Rex that video games do for a lot of people: wish fulfillment. In real life, Rex is a clumsy coward. The video game allows him to be an action hero. In fact, it’s a nice parallel to Woody’s fascination with the “Woody’s Roundup” mythos. Both characters are seeking fulfillment through a fantasy world instead of their own real lives. For Rex, even the video game can be a source of frustration, as he complains about his inability to press two buttons simultaneously with his tiny arms and gripes that the game is impossible to beat without the strategy guide. But he’s still immersed in the game enough to see the fight between Deluded Buzz and Zurg as a titanic battle of good versus evil instead of two toys blasting at each other with soft foam balls and little red light bulbs. When Zurg gets the upper hand, Rex tries the standard “believe in yourself” speech, which accomplishes nothing. Like Woody, Rex needs to learn that he can’t keep living vicariously through other heroes; he needs to live his own life. But this isn’t a movie about Rex, so his story arc is treated as comedy. His clumsiness actually proves to be a strength when he turns away from the impending “gruesome” scene (of Deluded Buzz getting hit in the helmet with a foam ball) and knocks Zurg off the top of the elevator with his tail. Rex may not be a completely changed character for having defeated Zurg, but he has grown a little without taking too much away from the main story.
Similarly, if this were a story about Deluded Buzz and Zurg, we would expect to see a scene where they realize that they are toys and come to terms with that fact. But it isn’t their movie and the reason that Deluded Buzz could be so much more ridiculous and over-the-top than Andy’s Buzz in Toy Story is because we never have to believe that he is someone who will eventually figure out and accept that he isn’t a toy. What the characters do end up accomplishing is freeing themselves from their built-in Star Wars storyline and quickly developing a stereotypical father-son relationship. It’s highly silly, but like Rex’s resolution, it’s enough for these two characters.
We’ve seen characters from these two films chasing cars and dodging cars, and now we get to see them driving a car. Specifically, the Pizza Planet delivery truck from the first movie, which is both another fun nod to the previous film and another vehicle that doesn’t have to be designed and modeled. This is a brief, entertaining chase scene, surprisingly less destructive than the toys crossing the street. The Pizza Planet aliens make a second appearance here. They don’t really contribute much to the main plot, except for telling the toys how to shift gears, but they do provide a short story arc for Mr. Potato Head. During the case, the aliens are blown out the window and Mr. Potato Head rushes to their aid. They express their gratitude and Potato Head brushes it off irritably. It’s a nice little window into how his character has developed since the first movie. When the situation requires it, he’ll do the right thing, but he’s not interested in getting credit for it, except for maybe from Mrs. Potato Head. He gets more an more frustrated with his new hangers-on and their constant chorus of “You have saved our lives. We are eternally grateful.”
The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading only. Now, always, and forever.
The toys use an empty dog crate to sneak inside the airport and onto the conveyor belt that leads to the luggage area. Buzz makes the classic movie character mistake of explicitly stating that they only have one more step to complete to accomplish their goal. A clear setup for the reveal of the luggage area as a vast maze of conveyor belts carrying countless bags and boxes off to their destinations.
Fortunately for our heroes, the problem is quickly broken down to a familiar issue for any traveler: two identical suitcases. Buzz and Slinky take off after one suitcase while the rest of the toys follow the other. Of course one of them has got to be the wrong suitcase. As it turns out, the one Hamm, Rex, and the other toys are chasing contains photography equipment. Like so much storytelling, this is a case of making setup feel like something unintentional. If you’re not watching the film, it can sound extremely convenient that the toys are able use the flash bulbs to help them battle the Prospector. But in the context of the movie, it feels natural. We’re too caught up in the tension of the scene and the disappointment of this being the wrong suitcase to give the contents much thought. Plus, their utility isn’t immediately obvious. If the toys had instead discovered a suitcase full of dart guns, it may have felt forced. As is, the eventual payoff of this moment feel less like “Well isn’t that lucky” and more like the toys being resourceful.
The Prospector reopens the tear in Woody’s shoulder and threatens to do worse if Woody doesn’t come along quietly, figuring that Al can simply have the toy repaired again if he arrives in Tokyo dismembered. Part of the Prospector’s view of the world is that children destroy their toys. He outright says this mere seconds later. But throughout this whole movie, the Prospector is the only character we see deliberately damaging a toy. (We’ll ignore Sid here, since he’s not in this movie and is probably not representative of the average kid – I hope.) So on top of being manipulative, cynical, and a liar, the Prospector is now revealed as a hypocrite, willing to tear another toy apart in his quest to get to a place where toys are never discarded or damaged.
This is also a more immediate reminder of the consequences of Woody’s decision. We know that Andy still loves Woody and that if Woody is going to be cast aside for good one day, it’s probably still years away (or from our current perspective, months away). We need something to tell us that Woody is still taking a risk and making a sacrifice, even if he’s making the right decision. If Woody doesn’t go to the museum, he doesn’t get the benefits of limited, careful handling or periodic restoration by experts like Geri. The quickest way to convey this is to have his shoulder torn again. Woody knows he belongs with Andy, but the risk that he will become damaged beyond repair is still there, along with the knowledge that Andy will inevitably grow up and no longer need Woody.
The rip must be less severe than the one Woody had before, as he doesn’t lose the use of his arm this time.
The Prospector gets a suitable comeuppance, dictated by his surroundings and what Woody believes he needs. Toys are meant to be played with and that includes the toy who has come to pride himself on never having been played with. How do they know what piece of luggage will deliver the Prospector into the enthusiastic arms of a child? The Barbie backpack is probably a safe bet. So Stinky Pete goes home with a little girl who knows nothing of his history or potential value (which is decreased now that he’s been separated from his box) and regards him as “a big ugly man doll” in desperate need of a makeover. Judging by the numerous face paint images the Barbie next to him is proudly sporting, the Prospector’s mint condition days are numbered. Will he try to escape and return to a collector at the first opportunity? Found a movement for toys who don’t want to be played with? Learn to enjoy the life of a toy that he was so long denied? We never find out, because this isn’t his story. That he’s gone from being a collectable back to being a toy whether he likes it or not is all we need to know.
Happy ending time? Not just yet. Woody has realized that his place is with Andy for however long Andy needs him, reunited with his friends, and picked out a fitting fate for the Prospector. Now he needs to put what he has learned into action. For most of the movie, Woody has been an almost passive protagonist. He reacts to things that happen to him and much of his conflict is internal. Before the film reaches its end, Woody will literally take the reins and prove himself to be not just a guy who made the right decision, but a true hero.
Bullseye has been freed from the suitcase, but Jessie is struggling to escape. Before the toys can get her out, the case slides down to the waiting baggage cart with Jessie still inside. Just as Woody ended up acting on his fears of being discarded by Andy by rescuing Wheezy, he will now demonstrate his belief that all toys belong with a child by bringing Jessie home with him. There’s no hesitation here. Woody’s moment of decision already happened. He may realize the risks – if he gets stuck on the plane with Jessie, he’ll never get back to Andy. But if he does know this, it’s a risk he’s willing to take. He can’t abandon Jessie now.
When Buzz accepted the fact that he was a toy, he was able to fly and become a real hero. Woody has accepted his place in life, so now he gets to be a real cowboy. It doesn’t matter that he’s chasing a baggage cart across a tarmac and not a runaway stagecoach across the prairie. We’ve got cowboy lingo, a trusty steed, a suitable score from Randy Newman, and even a sunset. The scale might be different, but what we’re watching now is a close to a Western as Toy Story 2 can get. This time, Woody isn’t just playing out stories from the TV show. This is the real deal.
Jessie has one last moment of hesitation, worrying that Andy isn’t going to like her. But she’s still a character whose emotions can turn completely around in the space of a second. When Woody mentions that Andy has a little sister – another chance for Jessie to be played with and loved by a little girl – Jessie can’t wait to go and starts dragging Woody towards the cargo door.
I was kind of happy when Pixar stopped feeling that they had to put a scene analogous to the match blowing out in the first Toy Story in every one of their movies. There’s one in Monsters Inc., but I think that’s it. There’s nothing wrong with the idea of a scene where the story seems to be going in one direction, then suddenly drops a wall in the characters’ path, leaving the audience unable to guess how the heroes will reach their goal. Shutting the door early works just fine here. But even an exciting formula is still a formula, and can get old and tired if it’s used so regularly if the audience comes to expect that moment and anticipate a new solution to the problem.
Another bit of information from the commentary that I find interesting has to do with Woody and Jessie making their escape through the hatch over the wheel of the plane. In the first pass, Jessie slipped and Woody was just able to catch her arm and hold on as she dangled precariously above the wheel. When Joan Cusack, who voices Jessie, was reading her lines, she pointed out how clichéd this was. The filmmakers realized that she was right and rewrote the scene to have Woody be the one to slip and be saved by Jessie. From what I have seen of the behind the scenes process, part of what makes Pixar movies as good as they are is that every one has a strong core vision and people who are essentially in charge or preserving that core essence of the movie, but no one is above taking a suggestion for an addition or change that will strengthen the movie, no matter where it comes from.
Another benefit of having Woody being the one dangling over the wheel is that it causes his arm to rip even more, another reminder of the consequences of Woody’s choice. Living his life will take a toll on his body, particularly today. On top of that, he nearly loses his hat, the source of his problem at the start of the movie and the very reason that Al saw him as valuable. Buzz saves it, not because he believes Woody needs to be a complete toy like Al did, but because he knows that it’s important to Woody. Woody is proving himself to be a true cowboy and as Buzz says, a cowboy needs a hat.
While trying to convince Jessie to go along with his plan and let go of the plane, Woody tells her to pretend it’s the finale of “Woody’s Roundup.” She rightly points out that it was cancelled before the cliffhanger – which had Woody and Bullseye partway through leaping across the Grand Canyon – could be resolved. Woody and Jessie are leaving behind both the world of the TV show and their potential life at the museum; safe and predictable, yet limited and incomplete. Real life may never be quite this exciting for Woody and Jessie again, but they will always face the same insecurity of not knowing what will happen next. Woody has already concluded that a real life is worth all the fear and uncertainty, and finally convinces Jessie to let go so they can find out together what happens next.
What happens next is that Woody’s plan works. He combines his cowboy lasso skills with his toy voicebox pull-string to propel himself and Jessie to safety. While the toys are celebrating, a second plane comes to a landing right above them and Woody wisely suggests that they head home. Real life may be about taking risks, but there’s no point in staying on an airport runway any longer than you need to.
Andy’s arrival is very similar to his return home in Woody’s nightmare, though the source of tension is different. Despite Woody’s very real fears, the nightmare sequence made the idea of Andy throwing Woody away look rather silly, so we aren’t too worried that the kid who just got back from cowboy camp has tired of his cowboy doll. One of the major differences between this scene and the nightmare version is the time of day. It’s dark out now, and since we saw that the sun was setting in the last scene, we know that the toys have a lot of ground to cover in not much time. So the real worry is that the toys haven’t made it home before Andy. One missing toy could have easily been misplaced, but all of Andy’s favorite toys being absent would be much harder to explain, and much more upsetting to Andy. So we experience a moment of fear when Andy finds that the dusty shelf where his mom left Woody is empty. The fear doesn’t last long, as Andy turns around and the soundtrack announces the toys’ success with a triumphant fanfare. They’re all right where they should be; on Andy’s bed waiting for him. Etch-a-Sketch has even spelled out “Welcome Home Andy,”
How is the sudden arrival of the toys Andy didn’t have before explained? “New toys! Cool! Thanks, Mom!” And since Mom isn’t around to explain that she didn’t buy Andy the new toys, the explanation holds. There’s also an explanation for anyone who might be wondering how the toys managed to get home before Andy. The Pizza Planet truck must have been towed for parking in a white zone, because what we see through Andy’s bedroom window is the Far East airlines baggage cart. I’d really love to know what Andy’s neighbors are thinking right now.
Woody’s prediction that Andy will love Jessie and Bullseye turns out to be true. Of course, to him they’re “Bazooka Jane and her jet-propelled horse.” But that’s the point. Andy might never know about “Woody’s Roundup” or how valuable his toys could be. He just plays with them and loves them as toys.
If we’re still worried that Woody’s days as Andy’s toy are coming to an end, we aren’t worried once we see Andy repairing the rip in Woody’s arm. I love that this leaves Woody with one upper arm overstuffed and thicker than the other. Andy doesn’t have the skills that Geri does to restore Woody to near mint condition. But he still cares about him enough to fix him. It’s still inevitable that Andy will one day outgrow Woody, but we can rest assured that Woody will have more time with Andy and more happy memories to look back on when it does finally end. Woody’s soft “Well what do ya know?” as he examines his repaired arm indicates that even he is surprised and happy to discover that Andy isn’t ready to give up on him yet.
Jessie is anything but quiet in expressing her joy at being a kid’s toy once more. I guess Andy must really love her and Bullseye since he’s already written his name one their feet, an honor that the first movie told us was reserved only for Andy’s very favorite toys. Story-wise, it’s a quick visual representation of their status as toys being restored, one that the audience will get right away.
One of my very few criticisms of this film is that Buzz’s crush on Jessie feels a little last minute and his attempt to compliment her come off as even more awkward than they are supposed to. That said, it’s still fun to watch Buzz, who is usually so self-assured, get tongue-tied. A budding relationship between these two characters also sweeps away the last of the Prospector’s wrong-headed thinking. The Prospector laid the blame for the cancellation and eventual fall into obscurity of “Woody’s Roundup” squarely on Sputnik and space toys. Now we have a space toy with a romantic interest in one of the Roundup Gang. Jessie seems pretty open to Buzz’s bungled compliment, though she gets distracted “rescuing” Buster from a potential housebreaking mishap before they can continue the conversation. Her willingness to leap into action in a way very similar to Buzz coming to Woody’s aide way back at the beginning of the movie (which was itself a callback to Buzz “flying” around the room in the first movie) makes it pretty clear why Buzz would find her attractive, but prior to that, I’m not really sure why he’s interested in her. Yes, she has many positive qualities, but we have no indication that Buzz has had any time to see them. Nonetheless, I still like the idea of a relationship between these two characters and I think it has a lot of potential to develop further in Toy Story 3.
We’re in wrap-up mode now, meaning we’ll get one last look at all of our main characters to give us a sense of what their lives will be like after the movie ends. Hamm has now taken up the Buzz Lightyear video game, while Rex watches him play. The video game has lost its hold over Rex now that he has experienced a more fulfilling, real life “battle” with Zurg. Again, Rex may not be a completely different dinosaur for his experiences, but he has changed a little.
Frustrated by his failure to beat the game, Hamm switches to broadcast TV. And what should be on at that exact moment but a new Al’s Toy Barn commercial. By the filmmakers’ own admission in the commentary, this makes absolutely no sense logically. Even putting aside the fact that Al just left on a flight to Japan last night, how could this commercial possibly exist? Is it being aired live? There is just no way Al could have put together this as and had in on TV between last night and now, even if he weren’t in Tokyo or en route. And if he had managed to film the ad through some miracle, sobbing over his lost fortune through every take, why on earth would he put it on the air? In fact, didn’t Al just film a commercial right after taking Woody to his apartment?
If we even think to ask any of these questions while we’re watching the movie, the answer is “Who cares?” We want to see Al get his comeuppance too, and what better way to do it than with the television ads that first introduced us to him. It mean we don’t have to cut away from the toys and what they’re doing just to savor Al’s karmic kick in the pants.
Hamm’s line, “I guess crime doesn’t pay,” sounds like just a little gloating over Al’s fate. But it also reminds us of an important fact that we may have lost track of in all the excitement: Al is a criminal. If Al actually had been able to buy Woody at the yard sale or found him on the street with no sign he had an owner, it would have been no less devastating for Woody or the other toys or even Andy. But from a human perspective, Al would not have done anything wrong. Al would never have known that Woody had feelings and a desire to return to Andy. He would have little more than a somewhat sleazy, opportunistic person and the end of his story would not have been so satisfying. The audience might have even felt sorry for him. But since Al stole Woody after being told in no uncertain terms that he was not for sale, he is a criminal in both the human and toy worlds. Whether you call it kidnapping or theft, Al did wrong, so we’re perfectly happy to laugh at his misfortune.
Crime may not pay, but some good deeds don’t go unpunished either. All Mr. Potato Head wants after his adventures is some quality time with the wife. But his new fan club can’t go for five seconds without gathering around him and repeating their eternal gratitude to him for saving their lives. Worse still, Mrs. Potato Head thinks the aliens are just adorable and insists that the couple adopt them. Even if married life has softened his personality a little, Mr. Potato Head will always be the guy who can’t catch a break between parts of his face falling off and his new status as “Daddy.” The aliens are visible in the Toy Story 3 trailer, but I don’t know if this plot thread will continue into the final film.
But some good deeds turn out far better, as we see when the happy, squeaky Wheezy bounces across the screen to greet his friend and hero Woody. Not only is Wheezy back in the playroom, saved from an uncertain fate at the yard sale, he has a new squeaker that Mr. Shark found for him. He’s in far better shape all around than he was when we first met him on that dusty shelf. In fact, he’s so fit and happy that he feels like singing.
Wheezy’s big number approaches the same level of silliness as Al’s final TV commercial. It’s way too late in the movie to throw in a new song, so Wheezy does a swinging, big band cover of “You’ve Got a Friend in Me.” Like many animated characters, Wheezy has a singing voice that doesn’t quite match his speaking voice. Here, the idea is pushed so far that it becomes a joke. When he talks, Wheezy has this small, unimposing little voice provided by the late, great story artist Joe Ranft. But when he sings, he suddenly has the deep and impressive pipes of Robert Goulet. Add to that the sequin-clad Barbie backup singers (who I personally think are hand-me-downs that belong to Molly), reflections from their sequined dresses creating moving patterns of colored lights on the walls and the toy audience, and alphabet blocks spelling out Wheezy’s name – all of which appear out of nowhere – and you’ve got a scene that stretches credibility. But it’s the last few minutes of a movie that has played fair with story and answered nearly all of our potential questions up to this point. Having done this, Pixar can now afford to break a few rules in the name of just having fun. Besides, even though Wheezy show-stopping performance is the last thing we see before the credits roll, it’s not the real ending.
The real ending comes when Woody hears Buster barking and Molly giggling outside and goes to the window to look. Andy is helping Molly toddle over to their mom. Mom and Andy share a joke about whether Molly is ready to drive yet. It’s sort of similar to a bit from the original Toy Story where Andy wanted to help his mom pump the gas, but the underlying message here is more serious. Molly is growing up. Andy is growing up. Though it’s presented as a joke, the years will pass and one day both kids will be driving. It may seem like a down note to bring up this close to the end of the movie, but a film that has dealt so honestly with the idea of kids outgrowing their toys can’t ignore that fact just for the sake of a happy ending. There’s can’t be any happy ending without Woody knowing that his days with Andy will not last forever and that they are all the more precious because of it. So when Woody looks down from the window, he is smiling. It may be a wistful smile, but it’s a smile nonetheless.
In an echo of Woody asking Buzz if he’s worried about the new Christmas presents at the end of the first movie, Buzz asks Woody if he’s still concerned about losing Andy one day. Woody’s assertion that he’s not is much more convincing than Buzz’s was. He has genuinely come to terms with the idea, at least to the point where he can deal with knowing his life with Andy will someday end. Once again, he gives Buzz a sort of backhanded compliment. No matter how much these two characters have come to care about each other, they still aren’t going to spend a lot of time discussing their feelings openly. So while Woody is partly pointing out that Buzz will also be discarded some day, the underlying message is that Woody knows and appreciates that he can always count on Buzz to be there for him. Like the original Toy Story, Toy Story 2 has the relationship between Woody and Buzz at its core. The second film expands the world and touches on a number of other themes, but this friendship is still much of the movie’s heart.
Why was this the movie that made me trust Pixar to continue making great films? Because it defied all of my fears and exceeded many of my expectations. There are few things so crushing as a terrible sequel to a great movie, but few things are as wonderful as a sequel and lives up to or even surpasses the original movie. Everyone who worked on this movie took the responsibility of creating a sequel to Toy Story very seriously. They took advantage of all of the possibilities that making a follow-up to a high successful film offered while avoiding the potential pitfalls. Above all, they did what they would continue to do with their subsequent films: they told a great story with great characters. The result is a film that I really can’t get enough of. This article took longer to write than it probably should have because I kept getting caught up in the movie and watching more than the ones scene I meant to or examining little details I had never noticed before. What sort of details, you may ask? Details like this one:
Though I can’t be 100% sure, it looks to me like a big-head caricature drawing of Andy as a cowboy. It has absolutely no bearing on the story, but it’s one of those little touches that make the world of the movie feel real and lived-in. This is the sort of care that went into every aspect of making the movie. Toy Story 2 is one of my all-time favorite films and I’m grateful for the opportunity to share my love of it with all of you.
All images in this article are copyright Disney/Pixar.
Tags: computer animation, disney, pixar
Great post!