I don’t remember the exact moment I first watched Toy Story because I would’ve been four at the time, but I remember constantly having it on repeat. I remember opening up a Woody doll at Christmas time—forgoing all Kens and deciding he’s going to date all my Barbies—and I remember the sheer, unabashed joy this brilliant movie consistently brought me. Still brings me.
It’s now the thirtieth anniversary, and despite the fact that Pixar is a sharp production company with some of the best animated films, nothing will ever top the world that started with Andy and his collection of toys. And maybe, nothing will ever top how we felt back then. People often call millennials “cringe” because we’re so obsessed with nostalgia, but I think they forget how much we lived through in the last thirty years. How many life-changing events we experienced in those three decades, and where it led us. These little gems from our childhood are sometimes the only joy we have left when everything around us is falling apart.
Toy Story, to me, will always be extra special. I remember putting it on every time I felt lonely, and I remember feeling comforted by the idea that even our inanimate objects could keep us company.
There aren’t many properties from our childhoods that hold up to the standards of the day, but everything about Toy Story is thankfully timeless. The story explores loneliness, moving, and big changes in a way that’s surprisingly relatable and universal, even when it looks different for us all. Few people really love change. It’s scary. It’s sometimes great, but other times, it’s unfortunate. It’s not always wanted, even if it’s needed. But what about the things we take with us? How do we prioritize what matters and what no longer serves its purpose? What does being a friend truly mean? Each of these themes is effectively and thoughtfully explored in the film as it not only stands as a coming-of-age story for kids like Andy, but also for the idea of feeling left out.
Where these toys begin and where they end up is symbolism for something much bigger than cleaning out our closets, and it’s a freeing feeling of finding a home away from home. It’s synonymous with the belief that there’s hope in the little things, the places we’ve been, and the people we’ve met. The Pizza Planet, the aliens, the claw, Sid’s toys helping Woody, Andy’s trademark handwriting, Woody’s indescribable love, Slink’s wholesome heart, Mr. Potato Head’s attitude, Buzz’s optimism, Little Bow Peep’s gentleness—every single character, whether we see them for a split second or spend ample time getting to know is special. They’ve stayed with us through our childhoods all the way to the moments where we’ve sat with our own kids, nieces, and nephews for their first viewing. They’ve stayed with us because the animation was breathtaking and no form of AI could ever replicate the raw perfection. They’ve stayed with us because of the voice work, the narrative, and every small detail.
As a film that now has four predecessors and a fifth on the way, the original Toy Story is timeless. It’s magic. A story about a journey back home and the friendships we make along the way. It’s a story that still holds up because themes of identity, friendship, and lifestyle changes are a constant presence in all our lives, no matter how old we get or where we come from.
Toy Story is currently streaming on Disney+.
First Featured Image Credit: ©Pixar