Toy Story 4: Purpose Lost and Found

No lesser luminary than Socrates once exclaimed, "The unexamined life is not worth living." Socrates, meet Woody.

Kids who grew up with the Toy Story gang 24 years ago now (gasp!) have children of their own. Roles change, some people outgrow toys - and some of us don't. People adjust to new chapters in their lives - and as it happens, so do some toys.

Disney's Toy Story franchise has remained wildly popular across age groups, serving as a touchstone for play, adventure, and the importance of friendship. But the films also wrestle with existential themes of self, purpose, reality, abandonment, belonging and loss. It can be a heady and emotional mix, but it's that depth of feeling that has endeared the films to more than one generation of children (and their parents), beyond the assembly line plot mechanics of so many other films. Like Finding Dory, there's a lot going on beyond the fun and games.

In Toy Story 2, Woody (Tom Hanks) faced awareness that he wasn't just a toy, he was part of a beloved TV franchise, with companions he'd utterly forgotten. In 3, Buzz, Woody (Tim Allen) and the gang face the sobering realization that their "kid" - Andy - is growing up, and their circumstances need to change, finding renewal with a new, younger child, Bonnie, where they've continued on in the interim direct-to-video shorts Toy Story of Terror and Toy Story That Time Forgot, their plaything family expanding as they joined Bonnie's existing toys.

In Toy Story 4, Woody looks still deeper at his sense of self, of belonging and his place in the world - and the toy tribe expands even more. Bonnie (Madeline McGraw) is playing with Woody less and less, and has palpable anxiety at the prospect of going to kindergarten. Her savior? Her own imagination, and an arts and crafts amalgam of pipe cleaners and googly eyes she calls "Forky." Forky (Tony Hale) is stunned to discover he's not only come to life, but that he's now become Bonnie's favorite, the vessel for all her emotional dependence and need for security. He's also surreal and cute, and like Star Wars’ BB-8, a genuinely successful creation that actually transcends the deliberate genesis of a focused team of designers. Kids love Forky - I know mine does.

Before kindergarten begin in earnest, Bonnie's parents decide to go on a road trip in a rental RV, so the toys hit the road, some becoming lost - some literally, some figuratively. Toy Story fans have wondered why Bo Peep (Annie Potts) wasn't in the third outing, and in an exciting prologue, we learn why. Stranded in a small town with a particularly Twilight Zone-feeling antique shop, Woody and Bo are reunited, and Woody tangles with devilish dolly Gabby Gabby (Christina Hendricks) and her gaggle of ventriloquist dummy henchmen. The theme of an individual's voice is prominent throughout the story. Buzz diligently works the suggestion of listening to his "inner voice," while another character is threatened with the theft of their actual voice box. Chew on that!

In addition to Forky and Gabby Gabby, other new characters include Evel Knievelesque Duke Caboom (Keanu Reeves), "Canada's greatest stuntman!" and the hilarious carnival prize-pair of Ducky and Bunny (Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele), all of whom do a great job of stealing scenes at every opportunity.

Potts is fantastic as Bo Peep, who's become an empowered staff-wielding she-warrior who'd be right at home in either Middle Earth or Fury Road. Her voice work is tremendously varied and full of emotional character moments. She's wonderful, as is Hendricks. In fact, there are so many new characters in Toy Story 4 who take center stage, that you find yourself missing time with the original gang and wishing there was more of them. I really wanted more of Jessie (Joan Cusack) and Mr. Pricklepants (Timothy Dalton)! But evolve we must. We spend a lot of time in that antique shop (I've never seen dust so convincingly rendered!), and Woody spends a lot of time navel-gazing (Sorry, Socrates). When climactic escapes occur and venues change, it feels downright liberating. The film is full of emotion, and I found it to be surprisingly more poignant/serious than I expected, and on a first viewing, less outright hilarious than the previous films.

It may take another viewing (or two, if my 10-year-old has any say in the matter) before I completely warm up to this new, different Toy Story. It definitely feels a bit less familiar. Pixar never phones it in, and they have a remarkable ability to depict characters and situations that kids absolutely connect with and lastingly embrace. If anything, Toy Story 4 surprised me with some its choices, though that's likely a good thing. Resilience, loyalty, courage, self-sacrifice and the necessity of change aren't what you might expect from a kids' movie, and it's refreshing to see these values at work here. I suspect my fondness for this movie is only going to increase, especially when it hits the cycle of near-perpetual home video replay constancy in my not too distant future.

Forky fans can also look forward to Forky Asks a Question, debuting when Disney+ begins streaming this November. In the meantime, definitely see Toy Story 4, easily the best family film in theaters, and a visually remarkable, emotionally moving treat everyone can share together. 

Plodzilla: King of the Monsters

Oh, how I wanted this movie to succeed. After the overall disappointment of 2014’s Godzilla, once again, I let a well-cut trailer fuel my optimism, and was excited for a colossal buffet of mega-monsters, with Rodan, Mothra and King Ghidorah joining the mix to wreak havoc on buildings and citizens alike.

Directed by Michael Dougherty (Trick ‘r Treat, Krampus), Godzilla: King of the Monsters is essentially two movies: one, about 40 minutes of pretty excellent effects work showcasing Godzilla and the classic bestiary of behemoths. The monsters are nicely rendered and pretty cool. The other movie, sadly, is the one with the actors in it – a life-sucking assortment of poorly drawn characters that have been handed some of the worst dialogue in recent memory.

Vera Farminga and Kyle Chandler are estranged married scientists, both of whom have a connection to Monarch, the secret organization that has been monitoring the world’s reemerging kaiju. They have a daughter – Stranger Things’ Millie Bobby Brown, who vaguely yearns for them to reassemble as a family. These are all good actors, who tackle their roles with conviction, determined to bring intensity to every scene. Much wide-eyed Jurassic Park open-mouthed gazing ensues. Wind and rain lashes at them, as they lean into the green screens. Poor Brown has virtually no dialogue but screams like she’s on fire, or evoking Drew Barrymore’s Scream phase. Charles Dance (the late Tywin Lannister) is some kind of villain, glowering and causing havoc.

The monsters emerge at various global locations, with a massive stealth bomber the only means to quickly cross huge distances between events. The timeline and logistics are beyond confusing. We’re in China, then suddenly Antarctica, then Boston. How did we get here? How did we get here so fast?! Ludicrous occurrences take place involving nuclear weapons, like when a nuke’s shockwave hurls an intact submarine popping up out of the ocean – or when characters squint against the proximity of a blast like it’s a dust storm.

Avengers: Endgame was a three-hour movie that felt like forty minutes. King of the Monsters is a two-hour and twelve-minute movie that feels like seven and a half hours. There are some exciting sequences to be sure – but if those scenes were oxygen, you’d suffocate by the time the film lurches to an end. Mothra has been nicely redesigned, looking way more believable than its cinematic forbearer. King Ghidorah is fantastic, and genuinely freaky and terrifying. The monster scenes are well executed, they’re just not particularly inventive or awe-inspiring. There’s a curious detachment to the destruction that numbs the audience. The blame has to go to Dougherty and co-writer Zach Shields, who went with a script that feels lifeless and dialogue that sounds like reading a weather report.

Jordan Vogt-Roberts’ Kong: Skull Island was deliriously more entertaining and fun. We’re getting another chapter in this “shared universe” saga in 2020, with Adam Wingard’s Godzilla vs. Kong. Let’s hope that next installment’s more Skull Island than Godzilla, at this point. It’s clear that director Dougherty has great affection for Ghidorah, Godzilla and the rest. It just seems that he didn’t know how to craft a satisfying story around that reverence, which is a shame, because these actors – and the audience – deserved much better.

“Safe passage to us all.” Deadwood: The Movie - Justice Served

“What a grand surprise after such a piece of time.” 

 

After three seasons, when HBO’s Deadwood ceased production back in 2006, it definitely left fans feeling like there was more to be said – more story left to be told.

In the 13 years since the show left us, Deadwood’s enthusiasts have only grown more fond of this uniquely profane, Shakespearean Western. We’d been hearing for some time that HBO was considering getting the band back together, of reuniting a cast that had been scattered for more than a decade. It seemed like an unlikely challenge in logistics, at best.

But sometimes pipe dreams can make themselves tangible, and creator/screenwriter David Milch has pulled off a wildly successful closing chapter for this cultish collection of characters and the barely-tamed town they call home. There’s a lot that’s amazing about Deadwood: The Movie, one of the best things being how openly it acknowledges that time has moved on, leaving its mark on both landscape and denizens alike. A decade has passed, and it’s 1889, with South Dakota having at last been granted Statehood. In a vivid opening shot, a relentless locomotive bursts out of tunnel, bearing down on the town like the inexorable approach of change – of the future. Sprouting telephone poles are now the investment crop of the day, making it that much harder for Deadwood to keep itself apart from the outside world’s encroachment. The train’s arrival marks the return of the town’s most ruthless adversary, George Hearst (Gerald McRaney) – now a California senator and a determined backer of the progress knocking on Deadwood’s door. 

 

There’s a lot more gray on view since we last saw these characters – some of whom are now downright old. Charlie Utter (Dayton Callie) stands as a distinguished reminder of a more gracious past, when he greets returning Alma Ellsworth (Molly Parker) at the train station. Lawman Seth Bullock (Timothy Olyphant) – now a U.S. Marshal – is older, more distinguished, still an active family man. Saloon owner Al Swearengen’s (Ian McShane) health is in decline, his liver failing after long years of strain. Hearst’s return in an even more elevated position of power is the catalyst that sets things in motion.

The film makes deft use of flashbacks, but I would highly recommend revisiting the series’ finale (3.12, Tell Him Something Pretty), as an extremely helpful refresher on where things left off.

Deadwood was always a show that emphasized character over plot, and that prominence continues here, though the bittersweet story Milch has crafted serves as a more than fitting return – and sendoff – to these characters. This is a show that loves actors, and the cast seems to really be savoring the miraculous opportunity to be back working together after such an absence. In addition to Callie, McRaney and the other cast veterans, Paula Malcomson and John Hawkes are superb as Trixie and Sol Star, who are still together and about to bring a child into their lives. Malcomson’s recklessly impulsive balcony harangue of Hearst is truly something to behold. Kim Dickens, Brad Dourif, Franklyn, Ajaye  and Anna Gunn, are among the many familiar faces Deadwood welcomes back. Robin Weigert is spectacular as Calamity Jane, but the great William Sanderson is disheveled sublimity as E.B. Farnum, Deadwood’s “titular” mayor, exasperating Hearst with obsequious apologies for “wanton leakage.”

 

If events conspire to rob Deadwood of its symbolic soul, the characters aren’t going down without a fight. Olyphant’s years on Justified have served him well, and perhaps no other actor can so immediately inspire fear of imminent reprisal just by walking towards a building. “My job ain’t to follow the law, Al. My job is to interpret it, then enforce it accordingly.” Massive kudos to director Daniel Minahan (a Deadwood veteran, along with Game of Thrones), who does a magnificent job of reconjuring Deadwood the town, as well as crafting pitch perfect moments for all the cast to shine. Milch has a wonderfully focused and economical screenplay that never drags and never feels rushed. The script is equal parts elegy and suspense, including an auction that had me with me on the edge of my seat. Despite the insistent arrival of electricity, it feels like the lights of Deadwood are starting to grow dim – in the most personal of ways. When Al Swearengen finds himself defending his mental state to Doc Cochran – “Mistaking Friday for Tuesday – well, secure my burial plot.” – we can’t forget that creator Milch was himself diagnosed with Alzheimer’s just before production got underway.

 

Make no mistake – Deadwood: The Movie is a small miracle. It stands as a moving, compelling example of what can happen when a community of artists makes an opportunity to serve justice to story and characters they all hold dear. Very highly recommended.