zoë rose bryant’s review published on Letterboxd:
I’ve tried to write and rewrite this review about a dozen times, and I think I’ve finally settled on the right words.
In a way, I left Toy Story 4 with the same feeling of disappointment that accompanied me as I left Incredibles 2 this same time last year.
Both films are immediate sequels to practically flawless predecessors in my eyes, and both films were accompanied with exclamatory pre-release raves that catapulted my expectations into the stratosphere. As someone whose interest in storytelling and screenwriting was primarily stoked by Pixar’s earliest gems (Monsters Inc., Finding Nemo, The Incredibles, and of course, Toy Story), this company has a incredibly special place in my heart. Nevertheless, despite my seemingly endless devotion, some of their recent features have tested my dedication, with lackluster/derivative originals (Brave, The Good Dinosaur) and unnecessary sequels (Cars 2, Cars 3) leaving me relatively cold.
Meanwhile, they have also embarked on a series of “legacy sequels/prequels” that follow their megaahits from over a decade ago (Monsters University, Finding Dory, Incredibles 2, Toy Story 4), and these all somewhat fall in the same bucket, quality-wise. Monsters University and Finding Dory did legitimately resonate with me, even if they weren’t quite as original, memorable, or inventive as their exemplary predecessors, but Incredibles 2 and Toy Story 4 suffer from near identical issues in my eyes, and they additionally brought out near identical reactions from me.
For starters, I feel that Toy Story 4 possesses a script in desperate need of plentiful rewrites. Just like with Incredibles 2, I do believe that there’s a lot of interesting material here, but these disparate themes never fully coalesce into a cohesive whole. Incredibles 2 raised questions about topics like women in the workplace, a father’s role in parenting, and our addiction to technology, but never really made strong stances on any of these subjects. Similarly, Toy Story 4 tries to tug on a few existential threads with Forky’s spontaneous existence and his resistance to being a toy, but this is sadly sidelined fairly early on once he becomes a MacGuffin to be rescued by Woody and co. The subsequent conversation about Woody’s own purpose in life is only raised sparingly, and it eventually most often takes a backseat to the fairly generic and surprisingly small-scale rescue plot antics until the final frames.
While there are fleeting moments of flimsy fun with amusing gags or interactions between characters you adore, these minuscule moments can’t distract from the lack of a sturdy thematic foundation that the strongest Pixar works possess in order to impact on a deeper level. Toy Story 4 certainly comes closer than Incredibles 2 to achieving this success, and it tugs harder at the heartstrings, but it still doesn’t soar as high as it could. I was massively intrigued by the world-weary exchanges between Woody and Bo about the role of an aging toy and possible “toy retirement”, but I found that the film kept throwing in needless sideplots that distracted from what should’ve been the central core of the story. Gabby Gabby fares the best, as she proves to be a relatively dynamic “antagonist”, even if the resolution of her storyline feels somewhat rushed. However, aside from being graced by current “Internet God” Keanu Reeves, Duke Caboom is wholly unnecessary to the plot as a sole “means to an end” with a backstory that feels like a total rip off of Buzz’s arc from the original Toy Story. His attempts at comedy don’t quite illicit much laughter either, although these beats don’t fall as flat as those from Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele’s Ducky & Bunny. As a huge fan of Key & Peele, I was beyond excited to see what these two insanely talented comedians brought to the world of Toy Story, but their characters more often than not felt like obnoxious distractions, and they had an erratic, “modern-day” sense of humor that didn’t quite mesh with Pixar’s otherwise timeless comedic appeal.
Unfortunately, because of the focus on Woody and Bo’s love story and the vast array of new characters, all of our old friends are virtually wasted here. Buzz receives the most to do, but even his character arc feels like a regression as he grapples with the way his “inner voice” dictates his daily actions (i.e. listening to the programmed recordings on his spacesuit). Jesse, Rex, Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head, Hamm, and Slinky Dog are all trapped in an RV for nearly the entire runtime, which is sure to be disappointing for major fans of the franchise. Now, if the film wanted to still pursue the main plot line around Woody and Bo, I would’ve understood wholeheartedly, as this is by far the most rich development of the entire script. Yet, Toy Story 4 affords needless attention to distracting new additions at the expense of both original favorites and the main romance; if the story merely wanted to add Forky and Gabby Gabby, I think this could’ve work. However, the extra time allotted for Duke and Ducky & Bunny feels like it should’ve either been excised completely or better afforded to characters we actually have preexisting attachments to.
Lastly, I really want to address the ending. I’d been emotionally preparing myself for over a week ever since I heard about the “emotional devastation” of the finale of this film (especially since I cry at almost every movie), but this final beat didn’t land as strongly as I thought it would. I was actually more of a wreck when a tearful, melancholic, rainy farewell occurs in the expertly crafted opening sequence. I think that most of my hesitation to be swept away in the conclusion is due to the lack of proper buildup for the romance between Woody and Bo. And yes, I do still stand by my assertion that this is indeed the strongest component of the film by far. That being said, until Toy Story 4, I never saw this relationship as any more than a passing flirtation; there was not enough prior groundwork required for the earth-shattering developments towards the end of this film. Toy Story 4 attempts to remedy this by further building up their connection with the aforementioned beautifully executed prologue and more than a few poignantly curated moments of unadulterated charm (their initial reunion and a later astonishing experience under the shimmering lights of chandeliers stand out), but I’m still not sure I fully bought into the level of intensity of their relationship that this film tried to sell me on in order to feel the influence of those final moments.
As it stands for me right now, Toy Story 4 is a decidedly messy, mixed bag, but not one without its merits. Ultimately, I don’t feel that it justified its existence, and I think Toy Story 3 is the proper conclusion to the series (with this fourthquel not adding enough or exploring its thematic material to the best of its capability), but I still had a decent time watching the film, as I do with most Pixar flicks. The animation is perhaps Pixar’s best, as it’s most certainly a highpoint for the animation medium as a whole (that rain! that dust!), and it’s always delightful to hear the voices of Tom Hanks, Tim Allen, and Annie Potts. Although I think it needed more narrative focus, there are certainly moments that shine and show the promise of a stronger, tighter feature, and you’d be hard pressed not to feel something for any of these characters throughout this crazy journey.
As always, if Toy Story 4 were released from a different animation studio (Dreamworks, Illumination, etc.) or without the burdens of the expectations from a classic franchise, I’m sure my reception would be much different. Sadly, it’s hard to separate the lofty esteem of this incredible studio from its most recent product, so as it stands, in spite of all my grievances, I do believe I still liked Toy Story 4, but I only wish I loved it instead.
