Then again, the timespan of a childhood is not infinity

Rating: 10/10 (24 July 2015)

Toy Story 2 opens with such a vivid and riveting intro sequence that its success was later replicated in a similar manner in Toy Story 3. It's at once more exciting than its predecessor and shows improvement in all areas, from the rousing opening track Zurg's planet which sets the adventurous tone (easily reminiscent of Williams' Star Wars), to the sound design of Buzz's rocket propelled flight through the impressive 3 dimensional rock field and fluid animation which showcases a whole new level of dynamism and camera movement in the characters. You can visualise the weight and care as Buzz balances himself on the floating platforms (playing a note each of Thus Spoke Zarathustra) or witness the motion blur of a back-flip. There's even a humorous note to it as Buzz pulls off that cool acrobatic and is immediately blown to smithereens - only then do we find out it was all the incompetence of Rex the Dinosaur playing a video game. Genius. It's such an achievement of Pixar, just 4 years after the first fully computer animated feature film, to showcase so must in so little runtime.
Toy Story was about cooler new toys taking the place of older treasured ones. Its sequel poses an even heavier question: what happens when kids eventually outgrow their toys? To be fair, it's not directly addressed until more than a decade later in Toy Story 3, but here Woody briefly considers the more eternal choice of being admired long after Andy has grown up, in a prestigious toy museum in Tokyo. It's such a humanising screenplay which gives some powerful motivation behind this decision; when Woody first finds out his historical and vintage value as a collector's item; his eyes light up and stare in amazement. Lasseter counters with another notion - priceless as he may be, locked up in a glass case he will never again wear the marks of playtime, only be admired at a distance. In the end Woody realises that his friends and Andy's happiness provide a more valuable sense of identity than just being a toy celebrity, but Lasseter doesn't make this a frivolous choice without any weight. Beyond the greedy and selfish Al there lies a very overlooked and artistic scene where Geri the Cleaner, of Geri's Game fame, lovingly repairs the years of damage Andy has inflicted. Geri, much like Andy or any other child, clearly cares about toys, although in a different way. Again it's a Pixar master-class; the sound design and animation work closely to show every intimate detail from the intricate reflection in the polished eyeballs, squirts of dye to colour his rosy cheeks, the slight shake of Geri's fingers and a tongue poked out in concentration, and of course the symbolic act of painting over the ANDY tag on the soles of his boots. It's all accompanied by one of Newman's more distinctive and playful themes.
Woody's predicament is contrasted by both Buzz and newcomer Jessie, tenderly voiced by Joan Cusack who provides two different sides of the abandoned cowgirl; one mournful, the other spunky. It's a heartbreaking montage in the middle of the film which spells this out, to the tune of When She Loved Me by Sarah McLachlan. She too, decides that time spent with each child is precious no matter who, and in some way mirrors the eventual transition in TS3. It mirrors the attitude of Prospector Pete, never having experienced a child's love, still in his original box, and harbouring resentment at space toys taking over the popularity of Western toys. He seeks adoration and will stop at nothing to get it. Buzz faces the opposite scenario of Woody; instead of being a collector's item, he is greeted with the display of hundreds upon thousands of identical toys just like himself, forcing him to reconsider his worth. There's wry humour to be gleaned here, when a rogue Buzz fresh out of the box takes his place in the gang ("Tell me I wasn't this deluded"). It's a credit to Tim Allen's voice acting to pull both personae off with such conviction. In the end, it's the ANDY on the soles of their feet that give them their worth, even for a fleeting moment in a child's life.
Beside Jessie there's a whole new range of characters that contribute to the humour and world of TS2. Who can forget Bullseye, the eager dog-like companion that despite never speaking a world, displays oodles of affection and playfulness? The catchphrase "Run like the wind, Bullseye" becomes an instant classic. What about the ever smiling and fast talking Barbie tour guide, verging on the edge of creepiness? Or Mrs Potatoe Head, the dutiful wife of Mr PH (who excels in the very entertaining credits, first introduced as a concept earlier in A Bug's Life)? Returning characters also get more screen-time and lines to work with. Who can forget the sly and charming Hamm (although I prefer 'Slotted Pig'), the loyal Slinky Dog, sassy Mr Potatoe Head (remarking "That went well" after the gang causes a major traffic accident crossing the street) or overly enthusiastic Rex, who's sole attention during the whole film is actually finding out how to defeat Zurg, the video game boss?
Toy Story 2 is one of those rare sequels that outshines its original in almost every way. It's technically impressive, it's voice cast is excellent and it's screenplay builds upon the predicament of the first and adds deeper, universal (well for toys at least) themes with emotional resonance. Perhaps it's the telling words of Wheezy the broken penguin that have the most significance; he points out that all toys are just one tear away from being sold off in a garage sale or donated. But that just makes each moment of play all the more precious.