Directed by: Lee Unkrich
Starring: Tim Allen, Ned Beatty, Tom Hanks, Michael Keaton, John Ratzenburger, Don Rickles, Wallace Shawn
Rating: G

A scene from Toy Story 3. (Courtesy photo)

That Toy Story 3 would get made was inevitable. Toy Story started the computer-generated animation boom 15 years ago, and Toy Story 2 was an uncommonly good sequel and an even bigger hit. So it was also inevitable that Toy Story 3 would not be able to hold a candle to its predecessors. The first two films explored what it means to be a child’s toy so thoughtfully and entertainingly there couldn’t be another story worth telling. Plus, “threequels” are always the weakest part of any trilogy.

Add the power of confounding the inevitable to Pixar’s collection of powers. Toy Story 3 is just as brilliantly executed as its predecessors, and even more emotionally satisfying. And it extends Pixar’s winning streak to 11 straight. Ridiculous.

Fifteen years have also passed in the lives of Woody (Tom Hanks), Buzz (Tim Allen) and all the other toys in Andy’s room. It’s time for Andy to go off to college, and the gang finds itself shipped off to a daycare center. At first Sunnyside Daycare seems like a wonderland, overseen by the benevolent Lotso Huggin’ Bear (Ned Beatty). But when Lotso relegates them to the room of the youngest kids, reality sets in: life in the daycare is much more like a prison. Even the super cheerful Ken doll (Michael Keaton) is under Lotso’s strawberry-scented fist. If the toys are ever going to see Andy again, they’ll need to organize a brilliant escape.

But really it’s about transition, as the toys deal with being outgrown. Director Lee Unkrich, long an unsung member of Pixar’s creative core, provides all the same skills as Toy Story 1 & 2 director John Lasseter, but with more restraint. Gone are the strained moments of levity that were just about the only faulty moments in the first two films. And as always, character comes first. Third movies usually expose how characters—especially supporting ones—become more simplistically defined. Perhaps Mr. Potato Head (Don Rickles), Rex (Wallace Shawn), and Hamm (Pixar good luck charm John Ratzenburger) haven’t exactly blossomed into deeply complex personalities, but they’re still quite multi-dimensional. Unkrich and co-writers Lasseter and Michael Arndt (Little Miss Sunshine) have managed to find a freshness where things might have understandably gone stale. The only quibble: Lotso feels a lot like Toy Story 2’s toy villain, Stinky Pete.

There are a few basic assumptions about sequels that I take issue with. One is that they’re fundamentally dubious—studios attempting to make easy money. The other is that sequels are a relatively new phenomenon. Of course the former is sometimes true–did we need Son of the Mask? But especially since the release of Toy Story 2, sequels have been well-made films that needed no extra validation. As for the idea that sequels have only invaded movies in such force in the last few decades, that’s simply not true. Their colors may change over time, but franchise characters and rehashed concepts are as old as movies. Toy Story 3 needs no defense. It’s not only the best movie of the year so far, it’s easily the greatest “threequel” ever made.

One last thing: this will be my last column for the Harvard Press. Anyone who knows me even a little knows I love to share my opinions, and it has been a pleasure to be able to share them with Press readers. What a joy to talk about all the great films, and what an even greater joy to disparage the terrible ones. I was proud to join the paper at its inception in 2006, and will always appreciate what a privilege it was. Thank you to Lynda King and everyone at the Press for allowing me to talk about my favorite medium nearly every week.

Editor’s note: Alex Manugian lives in Sherman Oaks, Calif. He grew up in Groton and has reviewed movies for Harvard readers for many years. The Press will miss Alex’s reviews, but we wish him well in all his pursuits.