Toy Story 3 (2010)

dir. Lee Unkrich
writ. Michael Arndt, story by John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton, and Lee Unkrich
feat. Tom Hanks, Tim Allen, Joan Cusack, Ned Beatty, Don Rickles, Michael Keaton, Wallace Shawn, John Ratzenberger

I'll admit I was afraid when I heard there was a third installment of Toy Story coming down the pipe. Sure, I'd been thrilled by the second one (after similar fears) and pleased by the bulk of Pixar's films, even stunned by many. Yet, Up lost it's momentum despite a strong start and Cars ran out of gas before it even got rolling. Plus, the tiresome push for more 3-D content loomed as a potential excuse to dance the toys across the screen one last time for a big show of unnecessary added dimension. Thankfully, the wizards of Pixar not only protected the property, but turned out what might be the best of the three, an unprecedented feat in movie threedom.

At their best, the Pixar gang get that great storytelling isn't just dynamic, packing in almost constant movement and frequent action set pieces, but also probes deeply, exploring multiple psychological levels and complicated relationships. Their utmost genius is demonstrated in their ability to combine these aspects in such a way that a child might appreciate an adventure about living toys struggling for survival while an adult will enjoy a tale about growing up, the fear of abandonment, and parting ways with loved ones. All of this is packed into a seamless, riveting story that weaves its way through a variety of movie genres and subgenres that include a ditzy cheesy romance and a film noir jailbreak.

Through all the riotous and outlandishly inventive moments (Mr. Tortilla Head ranks highly among the funniest things I've ever seen in my life,) they never let go of the heartfelt story, each character pulling its weight, facing up to its decisions, and dealing with consequences. And through the highs and lows, they never let the enthusiasm and pacing drop for a moment. On top of that, there are none of the easy solutions common to such stories. Just when you expect a villain to show he's a good soul after all, he's just as rotten as before. Just when you know how the gang will get out of a dicey situation, that escape hatch closes. And just when you think you've seen it all, there is a moment that makes you believe the impossible could happen, that seems shockingly adult and frighteningly human for any age group and which sets the filmmakers so far apart from the rest of the pack that they seem to belong to another galaxy. And as you gasp and the tears come, another turn arrives, one so uplifting, so surprising yet so inevitable, and so perfect that it ties the whole world together and confirms (quite precisely) what you thought a moment ago about those talented folks behind the scenes.

Hell, that's not even the end. It's as though the toys had the allegorical coming-of-age experience that we will never see Andy, their owner, have as he heads off to college. Their separation and the accompanying anxiety follow, a denouement that crystallizes the heart of the story, a gentle and emotional summing up after the exciting heavy lifting. And maybe just here, there is a touch of indulgence in the happy ending, the toys finding renewed love and joy in a new owner and together.