Toy Story 5 - 2026

Man, five of them, huh. Pixar’s initial offering and the first-ever CG feature is far meaner than I remembered as a kid, my own child was put off by its snarling jealous energy for most of the runtime when we watched it recently. Since then, the characters have mellowed out but the pathos has deepened, as the series continues to poke at the central tragedy of this fictional universe: toys are made to serve human children, who outgrow them, and also toys have no agency in the presence of their host species and can never die. In 2 we bear witness to cowgirl Jessie’s trauma from her original owner’s abandonment, in 3 the whole gang gets rehomed as Andy ages out, and something equally devastating probably happens in 4 (I haven’t seen it). There’s a religious undercurrent to the characters working out how to live in a deeply unfair world whose only rewards come from deep sacrifice, and glimpses of the horror that awaits these immortal sentient beings when they are relegated to the landfill. Still, the premise continues to be fun, and thankfully the times have changed enough that a new installment has something real to say.

This one’s all about tech, for better and for worse. Kids be on they phone, screen time, you know the drill. If you’d guess that the film ultimately lands on a mealy-mouthed “part of a balanced breakfast” type message for how gadgets fit into the imaginative world of children, you would win the prize, but the details are somewhat interesting. For the sake of plot, a single technology company is responsible for all electronics, every kind of computer toy (including a Fisher-Price potty training tool voiced by Conan) is also wifi-enabled with mesh networking capabilities, and each gizmo also includes membership in a social network/chat application that every other kid is already on.

Our kid, 8-year-old Bonnie, receives a “LilyPad” and is almost instantly addicted to the slop games, self-conscious about her status in the group chat, and cyber-bullied (I do not often wish violence upon children, but Dance Group better watch the fuck out). Her parents, who are portrayed as clueless and inattentive bozos, buy her an iPad out of desperation/confusion and do not seem to notice that it almost instantly makes her lethargic, withdrawn, and anxious. Lily eventually has a face turn, but the parents are the true villains of this movie. Bonnie’s mom finally notices a link between Bonnie’s behavior and the fucking green iPad that she drags everywhere, there is a beautiful moment of emotional connection with her lonely and insecure daughter, and then they go to get ice cream and BRING THE FUCKING IPAD WITH THEM. Lily has to throw herself in the trash because Bonnie’s parents are too stupid to do it themselves.

Bonnie is “different”, you see, and while the film initially portrays the capture of children to screens as a zombie-level horror epidemic, it ultimately forgets about the rest of them. Normies are all on FaceTwit now, but these poor little neurodivergent kids need something more. Bonnie ultimately makes a friend who is just as imaginative and expressive and lonely as she is, and watching that friendship form next to my own kid, who has inherited her parents’ weird brains and who is forming deep and quirky friendships of her own, made my cup runneth the hell over. “Technology is good when it serves the purpose of bringing humans together to do human stuff” is a serviceable enough message, and there’s a hint that this exuberant playstyle is contagious and may help shake other screen-addled kids out of their funks, but man it paints a bleak picture about the default state of things. The toys save the day, but they really shouldn’t have to.

Speaking of, the toys themselves are a mixed bag here. The cast is really showing their age, with Hanks in particular sounding like the very old man he is (I’m not sure why he’s even in the movie, because Woody basically just shows up to get roasted for his beer gut. I guess because they need him on the poster), and most of the supporting cast has died and been replaced with soundalikes (thankfully Randy Newman is still killing it on the score). There’s a very fun subplot that riffs on that shipping container that washed a bunch of Garfield phones on a beach, and Jessie comfortably takes the reins (of Bullseye, who is as charming as ever) as the unequivocal lead of the story. We flash back a lot to that montage from the second film that kicked my heart in the nuts where Jessie basks in the glow of her original kid before it all goes bad, and we get a glimpse of that kid’s adult future in a completely unexpected and absolutely heartwrenching third act reveal. Joan Cusack has always done great work in this series, and she kills it here. The new characters, mostly a gaggle of shitty little gadgets, are fun, and seeing how the old-school tricks of the OG crew are enhanced by the capabilities of the electronic newcomers is fun, even if the final climactic caper isn’t nearly as focused or high-stakes as previous entries. All is forgiven, because despite the best efforts of her parents, Bonnie made a friend.