Clichéd though it may be, I recently found myself in yet
another discussion about “Desert Island Movies”, that collection of films you
would hypothetically take with you to a place where there would be nothing else
to watch. Of course, your own choices are light years better than anyone
else’s, though there are always a couple of titles others come up with you wish
you had included, as well as a few on your own list you are forced to defend.
Wait…did I say “light year”? Or Lightyear?
Yes, faithful reader, I am hopelessly in love with the trio
of Toy Story movies. Yet until this recent debate, I hadn’t
really given much thought to why these films are so hard-wired into the
pleasure centers of my brain.
Certainly, in the dawn of Pixar’s technological leaps, the animation
alone was reason to marvel at the screen spectacle that was the original
release.
That wasn’t the only reason, however. It was also the first movie we took our
three year-old, first-born daughter to see.
Heading there, it was tough to describe the movie-going experience as
anything other than “a giant TV on the wall”.
Lucy probably thought that was pretty cool. After all, in 1995, giant TV’s on the wall weren’t everywhere,
and certainly hadn’t been seen in our living room.
The seamless story, along with the voices of veteran actors
giving life to characters who weren’t real (but were a damn sight closer to
real than Bugs Bunny), caused our daughter to emote through virtually the
entire film. She fretted, she worried,
she cheered, she stood through the entire movie. We should have gotten part of her admission
charge refunded…after all, she never sat in the seat we paid for. I’m not sure
I saw the movie until we purchased it on videocassette…that first time, I
watched Lucy.
The second chapter of Toy Story came along later, now
equipped with a Cowboy and Cowgirl, which mirrored the change in our own
lives. This time our little boy,
Daniel, joined Lucy. Our eldest child
was a little jaded by this point, but the story did not fail to bring the kid
out in all of us. A couple of years
later, Dan performed in an elementary school talent show dressed in chaps and a
wide-brimmed hat, singing “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” to his delighted fellow
students and a room full of parents and teachers. Sincere and sweet-faced, he brought the house down when he spun
his gimmicked lariat as he walked off the stage.
Between the second and third installment, Lucy was caught in
a nasty storm on a Girl Scout campout, an ugly tornado that brought wind, torrential
rains and death to an area of rural Michigan.
Heeding their vows as Girl Scouts, Lucy and her troopmates herded their
panicked fellow campers into safe buildings, past fallen branches and downed power lines.
Throughout the entire ordeal, she nervously rubbed a talisman in her
pocket, a small fast-food giveaway Buzz Lightyear she’d absently picked up off
of the ground. The two-inch figurine
sits atop the hutch where I write at this moment, his salute as crisp as ever,
his devotion to duty resolute, left here to watch over us and keep us safe from
harm.
Left here I say, because Lucy is in college now. As Toy Story 3 came out, our world
had changed again. Our daughter away at the University of Michigan and our son
busy with his high school activities and friends, my wife and I saw the most
recent installment alone.
The latest movie ended with the toys repurposed and placed
into the hands of new children. My
wife, who is not as prone to emotional breakdowns as me, had tears leaking from
her eyes at the end. I, of course, was worthless. But this silly little trio of movies was a pathway through our
years as parents. It was our time now
to be repurposed, to go from teacher to mentor, from philosopher to sage, from
parent to grandparent.
If someone should tell me a few years down the road that
another Toy Story movie was in
the works, I think I will be elated.
I’m practically getting a Woody just thinking about it.
Please consider these other items written and/or performed
by Marc Holland:
Live performances at:
Three plays co-written with Mike Davis-
Crenshaw Family Reunion
Beauty and the Deceased
Night of the Livid Dad (one-act)
One play co-written with Kathy Holland-
Warren’s Peace
Are all available at:
Coming Soon: A new one-act co-written with Kathy Holland-
Jobbed
Will be available at:
Novels under the pen name Quentin Tippler-
Hats Off For Homicide
And Coming Soon:
On the QT: The Collected Short Fiction of Quentin Tippler
Are for sale at:
Novels under the pen name Carl Stafford-
Son of Mann
And Coming in 2014:
