Part One – Part Two – Part Three – Part Four – Part Five
We’re quickly approaching the wrap-up phase of the story, where all but the most major problems facing the toys will be solved in a quick yet satisfying way. As in Toy Story 2, the seemingly impossible task of getting the toys home in turns out to be far less difficult than it looks. Sid’s earlier cameo pays off by allowing the toys to identify the garbage truck that will take them back to Andy. Even if we don’t realize that the garbageman is Sid, we and the toys both remember his penchant for rocking out. Why the garbage truck is visiting Andy’s home for the second time in less than a week is never explained, but it’s a minor detail and again, the movie provides solid answers to most other questions we might have, so I’m okay with letting one or two slide. The toys return to Andy’s house and hose themselves off, keeping Andy’s happiness at discovering his old toys weren’t thrown away from being tempered by puzzlement over why they’re covered in grim and non-toxic finger paints and smell like a dump. Since Andy’s room is nearly empty, Mrs. Potato Head can easily locate her missing eye. The only issue that isn’t yet resolved is the one that has been plaguing the toys since the start of the movie: where do they belong now that Andy has outgrown them?
At first, it seems that the answer is “wherever Andy wants them to be.” Woody and his friends prepare to part ways without the acrimony that soured their goodbyes when Woody left Sunnyside. The other toys now realize that Andy still loves them, even if he’s not going to play with them anymore, and agree with Woody that their job is to stay with Andy as long as he wants them. They no longer resent Woody for being the one toy Andy is bringing to college because they understand that Woody wasn’t putting his desires before their welfare. And as Mr. Potato Head notes shortly after being rescued from the incinerator, Andy’s attic looks like a pretty good deal compared to what the toys have been through.
Woody is able to bid a mature and meaningful farewell to his friends, in sharp contrast to his previous unwillingness to shake Buzz’s hand, accusations that his friends were acting selfish, and hurried “I gotta go.” I really appreciate that no one makes a big “goodbye” speech – that’s saved for a later scene. Everything is kept short and sweet, with most characters having little more than a line or two. The result is far more effective than the toys going into lengthy explanations of what they’ve been through together and how much they mean to one another. All of that goes without saying and what dialogue there is feels all the more meaningful because there isn’t much of it. I still get choked up by Rex’s quiet request that Woody “take care of Andy” and Mr. Potato Head’s surprisingly sweet admission that Andy is “a good kid,” though he can’t resist adding on “Tell him to get a haircut.” The toys do believe that they will see each other again; Woody might come home with Andy for visits and get to reconnect with his friends. And there’s still the hope that, someday, Andy will pass them all down to his own children. So while there is a sadness to the scene, it’s not depressing. The toys all believe that they’re doing the right thing and that they won’t be apart forever.
This could have been the end of the movie. Yes, it would require us to ignore all of the setup with Bonnie, but with a few tweaks to the film, Woody going off to college and the other toys staying at home in the attic could have been a perfectly valid way to bring the trilogy to a close. A few additional scenes could have confirmed that Woody did get to go back and see the other toys from time to time and that the other toys were enjoying life in the attic. A final shot of a grown Andy presenting the toys to his own child to play with would have let us know that the toys would be loved and played with again. Unlike the scene in the incinerator, where we knew the story wouldn’t end with the toys dying, this is something that could happen. The ending that the film does go with is both more risky and more satisfying, more in line with the core ideas of the trilogy: that a toy’s greatest joy in the world is to be played with by a child, but children grow up and don’t play with their toys anymore. But by presenting us with first one possible ending, then another that both feel like they could work, the filmmakers keep the ending of the movie from being a foregone conclusion.
Before this scene, Andy’s mother hasn’t shown any sadness about her son going off to college. We’ve seen her express a little amazement when telling Bonnie’s mom that her oldest is about to leave home, but mostly, she’s been pushing him to get busy packing up his room. Were it not for her insisting that everything that isn’t going with Andy to college be packed up for the attic or thrown out and Molly’s desire to have Andy’s room once he leaves, he probably would have just left the toys right where they were. So it’s a little ironic that when she sees the nearly empty room that she has been urging Andy to produce, she is moved almost to tears. It’s also a realistic reaction. In the commentary for Toy Story 2, John Lasseter talks about seeing the empty room after his oldest child went off to college and wondering how the time could have gone by so fast. If the idea that the reality of her son leaving home only hits her when she sees his empty room wasn’t inspired by Lasseter’s experience, I figure it must be based on someone’s personal history. It effects us to, and not just because we’re seeing a character onscreen being moved by what she sees. Andy’s room remained largely unchanged in the first two movies (despite the move), but over the course of this film, we’ve seen it transformed into a room that is no longer home to a kid who plays with toys. And now it’s become a room that isn’t even Andy’s anymore. The realistically teenagerish clutter and plastering of posters on the walls make the contrast between teenage Andy’s room and the now empty room all the more striking.
Though it’s a perfectly natural reaction for a parent to be sad when a beloved child is about to leave for college, the real point of having Andy’s mom react to Andy’s impending departure now is to get her to say “I wish I could always be with you.” Because that’s exactly what Woody is trying to do. His belief throughout the movie has been that as long as Andy shows even a shred of interest in keeping him and the other toys, that they belong with Andy, whether waiting for him in the attic or going with him to college. So when Andy tells his mother that she will always be with him, he’s unknowingly providing Woody with another option, another perspective on his situation.
I love that Andy tells his mother “You will be,” and it’s left at that. There’s no need for further explanation. Andy’s mom knows what he means. Woody is in the process of realizing what he means. And this is a movie that trusts its audience to be smart enough to understand it too.
Andy’s reply to his mother puts the idea in Woody’s head that the people and things that are important to Andy will always be a part of him even if they aren’t physically with him. What confirms for Woody that the toys share that status is seeing that Andy has chosen to take a photo of himself playing with his toys along to college. This might seem like an odd addition to a seventeen-year-old’s dorm room, but keep in mind that Andy really loved his toys and doesn’t yet realize that they have returned to him. For all Andy knows, this photo is all he has to remind him of his favorite toys. The message to Woody is that he and the other toys are always going to be a part of Andy’s life. Whether they still belong to him or not, he will carry the memories and what he learned from years of playtime with him forever.
Just after Woody completes a task that isn’t yet clear to us, he glances back at the box marked “College.” The film cuts back to Andy before we can see where Woody actually ends up. This is the beginning of a misdirect that will take us to the end of the movie. We’re meant to believe that Woody finished writing and raced back to the box going to college with Andy. Knowing what actually happens, Woody’s backward glance can be interpreted as one last moment of hesitation before he sets the course for the next stage of his life.
Though it goes by too fast to see, the note Woody leaves on the box of toys says “1225 Sycamore” – Bonnie’s address. It’s not something that we’re meant to see while watching the film; we see the result so it’s not necessary. But the fact that it’s merely an address emphasizes the idea that Woody is only nudging Andy in the direction of doing the right thing and counting on Andy to follow through. Like the appearance of Jessie and Bullseye at the end of Toy Story 2, the note is mistakenly attributed to Andy’s mom. Mom is in the other room so when Andy asks if she thinks he should “donate these,” she doesn’t have enough information to deny writing the note or even know that he’s talking about the toys. Her response puts the decision back on Andy, once again making the toys’ fate ultimately up to him.
Earlier on, Andy’s current address is revealed as “234 Elm Street.” Both that and Sycamore are generic street names, but the fact that they’re both named after trees highlights the similarity between Andy and Bonnie, if only in a subtle way.
One last misdirect before the real ending. As Andy exits the car carrying the box of toys, the camera moves in towards the box labeled “College” sitting in the trunk. The shot then shifts to a view of Andy approaching Bonnie’s house as seen through the punched-put handle in the box. If the new possible ending wasn’t clear before, it’s clear now: Woody still leaves for college with Andy, but gets Andy to donate the other toys to Bonnie so that they can be played with and loved again. Woody gets to stay with Andy and the other toys get the return to playtime they’ve been dreaming of, but it’s unlikely that they will ever see each other again. Like the previous possible ending, this could be a satisfying conclusion. It’s bittersweet, true, but “bittersweet” is also an excellent description of the real ending. Every plausible finale to the film is going to involve something being given up. There cannot be a 100% happy ending without betraying the reality of all three movies.
We know that Bonnie will provide an excellent home for the toys. Andy probably doesn’t. Though their families know each other, everything we know about them indicates that they don’t see each other very often. Plus, we haven’t seen Bonnie for nearly an hour. So when Andy approaches Bonnie’s house, he sees her out in the front yard playing a game in which Dolly and Buttercup are investigating a haunted bakery. Like Andy’s toys, Bonnie’s toys take on different roles according to the needs of the story, so Dolly is no longer the scary witch and Mr. Pricklepants is now playing the part of a ghost. It shows Andy that this is a kid he can trust to take care of his beloved toys and reminds us of the same thing. We also get a reminder that Bonnie is a shy kid. When she notices Andy at the front gate, she doesn’t run over and introduce herself. She hugs Mr. Pricklepants to her chest and calls for her mother. In a couple of minutes, we’re going to see how toys might have a positive effect on this aspect of her personality.
Andy introduces himself to Bonnie, further emphasizing that they really don’t know each other. Bonnie remains shy, hiding behind her mother’s leg and looking to her for reassurance before accepting the first toy from Andy. Despite knowing that Bonnie will appreciate the toys as much as he does, Andy is still clearly attached to them. He explains the situation not as “I’m giving you these old toys I’ve outgrown” but as “These are mine, but I’m going away.” He still feels the need to convey how important these toys are to Bonnie, both how cool they are as toys and what they’ve come to mean to him. In doing so, he unknowing reveals this information to the toys and the audience as well.
One last unanswered question: how did Andy learn Jessie and Bullseye’s real names (remember he was calling them “Bazooka Jane and her jet-propelled horse” at the end of Toy Story 2) without discovering that Woody is a rare and valuable toy?
Andy introduces the toys to Bonnie, providing her with a brief summary of what makes each of them special. If we didn’t already believe that Bonnie is going to be a perfect new owner for the toys, the gentle way she straightens Jessie’s hat and strokes her cheek seals the deal. For me, the most touching moment – prior to the last toy being revealed – is when Andy introduces Rex. Throughout Toy Story, Rex fretted that he wasn’t fierce enough and worried that he would be replaced should Andy ever get another dinosaur. But in Andy’s eyes, Rex was always the most ferocious dinosaur that ever lived.
There is one moment in here that I kind of dislike. No it’s not the fact that Andy is so sentimental about his old toys at age seventeen or his indulging in one last playtime shortly after handing the toys over to Bonnie. The movie has done a good job establishing that Andy is still between childhood and adulthood, old enough to be past playing with his toys, but young enough to still have trouble letting them go. The part that bothers me is when Andy tells Bonnie about Hamm’s alter ego, Evil Dr. Pork Chop. Though he gives personalities or backstories for all of the other toys, they’re all simple and open enough that I feel like Bonnie could develop their characters on her own and even ignore what Andy told her should she ever decide that Slinky is more fierce than loyal, that Rex is really a friendly dinosaur, or that the Potato Heads have only just met. But for me, bringing in Dr. Pork Chop crosses a line. It feels like Andy is pushing his idea of what this toy is onto Bonnie rather than letting her cast Hamm as she sees fit. I get why it’s in there. The scene is as much about Andy revealing what the toys have meant to him as it is about Andy selling Bonnie on how great they are. If Andy merely said “And Hamm is a bank,” it just wouldn’t cut it. But Andy defining who Hamm is to that degree strikes me as too much of an intrusion into what is now her world of imagination.
Now we come to the reveal of the real ending: Woody has not only ensured that his his friends are going to have a happy life with a new kid who will love them, but is going to join them in that new life. I love that there’s no explanation for Woody’s actions beyond what we already know. Though it would have ruined the surprise of Woody being in the box going to Bonnie instead of the one going to college, it would have been easy enough to add in some exposition. There could have been a scene where the other toys are shocked to discover Woody in the box with them and ask “Woody, what are you doing? Don’t you want to go to college with Andy?” And Woody would respond with a lengthy speech about how he’s realized that Andy doesn’t need his toys anymore but the memory of their times together will always be with Andy, so the important thing now is for the toys to stay together as a family and so on and so so forth. Instead, we’re once again trusted to figure it out for ourselves. The movie shows us how Woody came to this decision; it just doesn’t outright tell us.
This is where it becomes important that Woody and Bonnie have already met. Of course their previous encounter is the whole reason the toys are going to live with her now. But the fact that Bonnie encountered and played with Woody before gives her a reason to take an interest in him now without seeming greedy. Bonnie has just been handed eleven new toys, so having her notice a twelfth in the box and ask “Is that for me, too?” might reflect badly on her. What we get instead is Bonnie noticing something familiar left in the box and being happy to see a toy she has already claimed as her own when she discovered him alone and seemingly unwanted. It also gives Bonnie the opportunity to quote one of Woody’s pullstring voicebox lines, gving Andy extra reason to believe that Bonnie can love and appreciate Woody as much as Andy does.
Is Woody abandoning Andy? No. Is he choosing a life with his friends and a new child over life with Andy? Not really. Since Toy Story 2, we’ve been presented with the idea that Woody’s relationship with Andy is like that of a parent and child. We’ve just been reminded of this concept again when we watched Andy’s mother experience emotions similar to what Woody feels as he realizes that Andy has grown up. What we’re seeing now is Woody being a good parent. Good parents are not those who cling to their children throughout their lives and seek to shield them from the world. (If this is new to you, go watch Finding Nemo.) Good parents know when to protect their children, but also know when to give them more freedom and even when to encourage them to become more independent. Woody is helping Andy to grow up. He is essentially telling Andy “It’s all right. I know you love me, but you don’t need me anymore. I’ve taught you everything I can, so it’s time for you to move on. Don’t worry about me; I’ll be fine.” But of course, Woody can’t actually tell Andy any of this. Even more than a real parent, Woody can only point Andy in the right direction and hope that he choses to go that way. He can give Andy Bonnie’s address and put himself in the box, but where Woody and his friends are going to spend the next part of their live is ultimately up to Andy. There’s nothing stopping him from taking Woody with him to college or even refusing to go to 1225 Sycamore and putting the rest of the toys in the attic like he had originally planned. Woody can’t force Andy to do anything, nor would he want to. For Woody to be able to let Andy go, Andy has to make the decision to let Woody go.
Listening to Andy telling Bonnie who Woody is to him, I wonder if young Andy might have given Woody the qualities of an ideal father figure. I’m not suggesting that Andy ever saw Woody as a substitute father. But maybe on some subconscious level, Andy imagined Woody as being not just everything a young boy thinks a cowboy should be, but what Andy felt a man and a father should be. Woody, according to Andy, is brave, kind, smart, and the kind of friend who will never give up on you. Andy doesn’t know just how right he is about Woody. He’ll never know about all of Woody’s non-imaginary adventures, the time Woody almost did give up on him, or everything Woody has been through because he didn’t give up on him. But even without knowing what we know, that’s how Andy sees Woody. To him, Woody has always been there for him, in a way that his father – for whatever reason – was not.
We don’t ever see that Bonnie has a father, but we haven’t seen enough of her life to say for certain whether she and Andy are both children of single parents.
Woody being passed from Andy’s hands to Bonnie’s is shown in close-up, as well it should be. This is the moment the whole movie has been leading up to, the moment when Woody is ready to leave Andy and Andy is ready to let go of Woody. It is the final answer to the central question of where these toys belong now that Andy is grown up. For as long as we have known them, the heroes of the Toy Story films have been Andy’s toys. This final passing of the toy is meaningful to audiences who know and love these characters and deserves to be treated with the respect that any important movie moment deserves.
Having placed Woody in good hands, Andy engages in one last playtime. For the toys, it’s what they’ve longed for almost since the beginning of the film: not just to be played with again, but to have Andy play with them again. Though the toys can’t react to what’s happening, it’s clear that they have no illusions about Andy reverting back to his childhood. They’ve just been given to a new owner. This is the very last time Andy is going to play with them. What makes it special is that the toys realize it’s the last time Andy will play with them, as well as the first time that Bonnie is playing with all of them except for Woody. The previous “last time” that Andy played with the toys, they probably didn’t know that it was the last time. Andy most likely just started playing with them less and less until he eventually stopped with no announcement or fanfare. This time, the toys are able to appreciate being played with by Andy all the more because they know it won’t happen again.
For Andy, this is a farewell to childhood. He may still have some growing up to do, but for the purposes of this story, this is the last hurrah before Andy puts the toys of his youth aside. Though I’ve read reviews from viewers who can’t buy that a seventeen-year-old would run around and play with his toys, I can believe it. I’ve seen people about to step up to a new level of maturity hesitate or step back for a moment, taking one last opportunity to indulge in the comforts of the part of their lives they’re leaving. I’ve been that person. Additionally, the last playtime shows part of what Andy has learned from his toys that will be useful to him in the future. Andy has learned how to be creative, specifically how to play creatively. If nothing else, this will help Andy to be a good parent himself one day, to inspire and appreciate his children’s creative play and to join in when asked to.
Bonnie has not only gained armloads of new toys; she has also gained something more subtle. When she first met Andy, she was very hesitant to interact with him, even after her mother had indicated that Andy wasn’t a stranger and was okay to talk to. Through their shared affetction for toys, she has gained the courage to approach Andy and talk to him. When he expands on the haunted bakery game she was playing when he met her, Bonnie is perfectly willing to let Andy be a part of the game, even though her mother has gone back to gardening several feet away. There’s no conclusion to this part of Bonnie’s story. It’s doubtful that this one encounter has cured her of her shyness and we’ve never seen toys presented as a way for kids to work on skills they will need in real life in the Toy Story films. (Andy was never portrayed as a particularly shy kid.) But toys and playtime do provide a way for kids to explore real world issues in a safe and positive environment. For Bonnie, they also provide a way for her to interact with new people.
The last playtime comes to an end and Andy returns to his car to leave for college. The movie has already earned the right to be called a tearjerker, but the next few shots are borderline sadistic. I’m already welling up watching Andy explain what Woody means to him and seeing him play with his toys for the last time. Seeing Bonnie make Woody wave goodbye to Andy is almost too much, particularly because Bonnie doesn’t truly realize what she’s doing. She knows that Andy cares about these toys, especially Woody, but she’s too young to realize how torn he is about giving them away. Andy is caught off guard seeing his favorite toy waving a last goodbye to him, and has to look away. Before he drives away, he says a last, quiet “Thanks, guys,” a final acknowledgement of the important part the toys have played in his life. By now I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched either the whole movie or just this scene, but it still puts a lump in my throat.
I haven’t spent much time in this particular analysis talking about Tom Hanks‘s voice performance – or any of the fantastic voice work in this movie. That the returning cast does an excellent job is kind of a given at this point and the new cast members are able to bring the same level of quality. But Hanks’s delivery on the line “So long, partner” as Woody watches Andy’s car drive away for the last time is too good not to mention. Combined with the rapid blinks that suggest Woody – like much of the audience – is holding back tears, it conveys the perfect mix of the sadness Woody feels at watching the kid he loves depart from his life and the pride and joy he feels knowing that he has helped to shape Andy’s life for the better and that he, Andy, and the other toys all have wonderful new stages in their lives to look forward to.
The ending of Toy Story 3 is not just an ending; it’s also the beginning of the toys’ new life with Bonnie. As we leave the toys, Woody begins introducing his friends to Bonnie’s residen toys, ensuring a smooth transition into their new home. The camera pans up as Woody starts his introductions, rising past Bonnie’s roof to see fluffy white clouds in a brilliant blue sky. They are neither the flat, graphic clouds of Andy old wallpaper nor the clouds above the Western plains of Andy’s imagination, but real clouds, the perfect bookend to both the movie and the Toy Story trilogy.
But wait! We’re not done yet! Toy Story 3 features Pixar‘s most essential end credits sequence. While the blooper reels and various other bonuses Pixar put at the end of previous films were certainly fun, they weren’t necessary to the story. The footage that plays alongside the credits of Toy Story 3 actually continues the movie and ties up a few remaining loose ends, particularly those regarding Sunnyside. We could probably assume that with Lotso gone, Sunnyside would become a better place for the toys who live there. But it’s much nicer – and more fun – to have it confirmed.
Most of this sequence is set to a Randy Newman song called “We Belong Together,” the only original song in the whole movie. It’s a nice enough song, but I find it rather unmemorable and generic, not a great fit with what’s happening onscreen. It’s okay, but not iconic in the way that “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” and “Jessie’s Song” are. Newman provided a very different, very melancholy song that played over part of some of the early trailers for Toy Story 3, but never made it into the final film.
A box of newly donated toys – including an Evil Emperor Zurg – arrives at Sunnyside and receives an enthusiastic welcome. This time around, the Sunnyside residents are genuinely happy to welcome new toys into their community, not merely relieved that there are new toys to keep the Caterpillar Room kids occupied. Ken and Barbie are now running the show, ensuring that all toys are treated fairly and that everything remains cool and groovy. Sunnyside has become the kind of place that Lotso originally promoted it as to Andy’s toys, one where we could imagine Woody and his friends retiring to someday, or at least visiting for a while if they’re ever between kids.
The Caterpillar Room would probably be the biggest unanswered question if the end credits sequence did not exist. Lotso may be gone, the Caterpillar Room still exists, the kids who stay there are still young and wild, and they do need some toys to play with. How do the toys at the now cool and groovy Sunnyside deal with this fact without forcing toys to stay in the Caterpillar Room? By turning it into a sporting event. We see Chunk the rock monster – a toy much more suited to rough play than most of Andy’s toys were – getting tossed under a piece of furniture where Twitch the bug man is waiting to be tagged in and take his place. Ken is dressed a a referee while Barbie sports cheerleader garb. I’m not sure whether the toys sitting on the bleachers are participants or merely spectators, but either way, the feeling of sport is unmistakable. The toys who get played with by the Caterpillar Room kids are now treated as athletes, not prisoners. I can see them engaging in some good natured bragging about how many rounds they were able to go with the toddlers. With Ken and Barbie keeping an eye on things, no toy is going to take more abuse than he or she can handle.
The scenes at Sunnyside wrap up the storylines for all of the characters who aren’t now living with Bonnie. The toys from Lotso’s gang are shown to be perfectly nice toys when they aren’t under Lotso’s command. Andy’s old green army men, who parachuted off towards the beginning of the movie in search of a new home, arrive at the Sunnyside playground and are welcomed with a respectful slaute from Ken. Ken and Barbie are still very much in love and seem to have adopted Big Baby, judging by the matching gold outfits they’re all wearing when we last see them. Even the cymbal monkey gets into the groove. Those shades really help to make him less frightening.
The end credits sequence also lets us know that the Sunnyside toys have been in touch with Woody, Buzz, Jessie, and the rest. This means that they’re aware that Andy’s former toys are safe and sound at Bonnie’s house, not rotting away at the Tri-County Landfill..
We already know that our heroes will have a wonderful life at Bonnie’s house. Bonnie is great with toys and all of the resident toys are ver nice and welcoming. So the scenes of the toys settling in at Bonnie’s house are mostly just gravy, restating that everyone is happy and getting along with each other.
Rex overcame his fear of being replaced by another dinosaur toy long ago, so his friendship with Trixie the triceratops is not surprising. They’re from the same line of dinosaur toys and share the same sculpt style and tiny eyes. But what really unites them is their shared love of video games, and possibly their shared frustration of having limbs that make many everyday tasks somewhat difficult. The pleasure in watching the scenes at Bonnie’s house comes from getting to see the two groups of toys interact and being able to spend a bit more time with Bonnie’s toys, who we’ve only known for a little while.
Most of the remaining scenes follow a similar path, showing how well our heroes are fitting in with Bonnie’s resident toys. One of the aliens helps Mr. Priclepants to perform Shakespeare, playing a rather stilted Juliet to his Romeo. Chuckles, secure in the knowledge that Sunnyside has been reformed and that he has friends and a loving home, finds reason to smile again. Totoro playfully juggles the aliens while the peas in a pod sneak into Mr. Potato Head’s rear storage compartment, much to his annoyance. (Incidentally, the individual peas are named, Peatey, Peanelope, and Peatrice and yes, you may groan now.) Again, none of this is really necessary. We would have know that the toys were in a good place without these scenes. But as with Sunnyside, it’s nice to know for certain how well things are going.
The one scene that does add something to the story – or at least puts a nice little bow on one of the plotlines – is the final one. Jessie had previously told Woody about her intention to have some fun with Buzz’s Spanish mode, so it makes sense that we get to see her doing just that before the movie ends. Fortunately, Jessie can reawaken a little of the space ranger’s Spanish side without resetting him. All it takes is the appropriate music for Buzz to get his Spanish rhythm back, or rather, for Buzz’s hips to take off and drag the rest of him along for the ride. I think it says a lot about how much I’ve come to care about these characters over the years that I can get so much enjoymen just from watching Jessie and Buzz dance and knowing that Buzz has finally moved past the nervousness that kept his relationship with Jessie from growing. It certainly doesn’t hurt that the animation is fantastic, the result of top-notch animators observing dance moves by professional choreographers. We get a few last looks at all of the characters and a touch of humor as Mr. Potato Head looks on in mild horror when Woody starts swaying and snapping awakwardly in time with the music. But the main point is to complete the feeling that everything is going to be just fine for these characters by showing Jessie and Buzz continuing to pursue their romance.
This is not the last we will see of our friends from Toy Story. a Toy Story short has already been confirmed as the short that will run with the upcoming Cars 2. I am looking forward to spending more time with these characters, whether the adventure takes place at Bonnie’s house, in Bonnie’s imagination, at Sunnyside, or elsewhere. But what I don’t want to see is a “Toy Story 4.” Through various characters, the three Toy Story movies have dealt with every major issue in a toy’s life, in a toy’s story. I don’t need to see what happens as Bonnie grows older and stops playing with toys. I know that these guys can get through it because they’ve been through it before. What’s important now is knowing that the characters I’ve know since the first Toy Story are going to be loved and played with and able to stay together as a family.
All images in this article are copyright Disney/Pixar.