Toy Story 2—The Search for Woody (Part 2)

Thank you for your patience, gentle readers. I’ve returned to blogging, as I always will. Today I’ll talk about Toy Story 2’s characters. This one is more plot-driven than character driven, but that doesn’t mean the characters don’t grow during the movie’s course.

We can see that some of the characters have grown since the first movie. Mr Potato Head, for one, is domesticated now, shaving his mustache and all. Then there are some new faces.

I’ll start with Al of the Toy Barn. You can tell he’s a serious collector by his car and the vintage merchandise in his house. I’m amused that he’s a threat to the toys because he loves toys so much. He’s the Sid Philips of Toy Story 2. Sid provided extra urgency to the story by threatening to ruin Andy’s lost toys. Al not only creates the main conflict by kidnapping Woody, he also serves as the ticking clock by prepping the toys for a flight to Japan. He is an example of how creative Pixar can be. His store is mentioned in the first movie as a throwaway line. Now he’s an actual character with hopes and desires. He isn’t malicious. He just wants to see his passion bear fruit. Who hasn’t wondered if their favorite hobby could become a business? We do need to fault him as a villain, because he deliberately conned Al’s mom out of guarding Andy’s “old family toy.” Even that, however, softens a little because of how nervous and clumsy he is. He’s no danger to the real world, only to the toy world.

One of the striking things about Woody’s story arch is that he spends about a third of the movie with a broken arm. And that’s just the beginning of the movie—sometimes it’s torn clean off. Try imagining Batman spending that much of a movie in a cast. It’s pretty bold storytelling. I’m sure it also reminded Woody of the toys trapped in Sid’s house, mutilated and mismatched with the wrong parts. When Stinky Pete tells him about the Space Race putting Western toys out of business and when Jesse reveals her owner outgrew her, Woody has to call his own purpose into question. This is different from losing a delusion, like Buzz did. This is a matter of becoming unneeded or unwanted.

Woody is priceless to Andy. Possibly to Andy’s mom, as well, since she calls Woody “an old family toy.” If you consider how worried Woody was about being replaced in the first movie, it adds meaning to his fear of missing cowboy camp. He knows and accepts that he’s not the coolest toy in the galaxy but he likes to know that Andy still cherishes him. So how does it affect Woody to know he’s “valuable property?” quite a few ways. It goes to his head, for starters:

Jesse: Introducing the high-ridin’est cowboy around… 

Woody: You forgot rootin’ tootin’est! 

Jesse: The high ridin’est rootin’ tootin’est hero of all time, Sheriff Woody! 

Woody: (Swagger)

It also brought out his courage. Throughout most of Toy Story Woody panicked and shivered his way out of trouble. In Toy Story 2 he rescues Wheezy the squeaker toy from a yard sale, but it’s not too daring a rescue. He’s still at the house, and he’s safely hidden from sight. He’s a little clumsy, too. Thanks to Woody’s Roundup he saw himself performing daring rescues. In the final race to catch up to Jesse on the plane he rides in true heroic fashion, complete with catchphrase, “Ride like the wind, Bullseye! Hey, howdy-hey!” Woody, Buzz, and Bullseye don’t sneak. They don’t make sure the coast is clear. They just ride. A lady’s in trouble and only they can save her.

Buzz also demonstrates what a proud heritage can do. I almost looked over Buzz’s comment in Toy Story about his Academy training going to waste. His memories of the Academy may have been fiction, but his skill and courage are real. Those memories are still a part of him. He still conducts himself in a formal and dignified way. There’s even a kind of language barrier when he slips into Ranger talk, like the scene where he calls a license plate a vehicle I.D. tag. He probably does that quite often, because the other toys mistake the fresh-out-the-box Buzz for him.

Buzz also still carries a strong sense of loyalty to his friends and his ideals. It’s kind of annoying how the other toys complain about the journey to Al’s Toy Barn, but their whining shines a more complete light on Buzz’s courage that way. He really is Woody’s only hope for rescue. And that’s what makes the scene so poignant when Buzz finally confronts Woody in Al’s apartment. His voice almost falters when he says he believed in Woody’s vision of being a toy. To travel as far, and to solve a mystery as great as Buzz did, and then to hear your best friend reject all the values and dreams he gave you in the first place? Once again Buzz has to decide what he believes. When the other toys ask about Woody, all he can say is:

Buzz: He’s not coming. 

Rex: But Andy will be home soon. 

Buzz: Then we’d better be there waiting for him.

Getting the other toys to keep going was one thing. Buzz’s hero strayed from the cause, leaving Buzz to keep going on his own. Buzz tends to confront disbelief quite a bit. First the Space Ranger learns he’s made of plastic; now he learns that the friend he tried so hard to rescue didn’t want to be saved. That whole journey on foot, across a busy street, getting lost in a toy shop and catching up with a younger, more delusional version of himself and Woody rewards him by saying “Well, you wasted your time.” That would deflate the Space Ranger in me with no problem. But Buzz won’t give up a good cause.

Living in the toy world has also brought out Buzz’s vulnerability as well. He has a soft spot for the ladies. He blushes, hems and haws when Bo gives him a kiss “for Woody, when you find him.” Then, of course, there’s his classic pickup line for Jesse:

Buzz: Uh, m-ma’am, I, uh, um…cough…well, I just wanted to say you’re a…bright young woman with a…beautiful yarn full of hair—a hair full of yarn. It’s, uh, phew...whoa, uh…(cough)…I…must go.

I’ve learned that Buzz and Woody grow together the way real friends do. I’m a composer, and I recently started giving my photographer friend advice on how to write a song. He in turn has noticed some clever tricks I’ve picked up with my little digital camera. Woody was always a domesticated toy, growing into his role as a hero. Buzz began as the bravest most adventurous toy in Andy’s room, and now has begun to adapt to civilian life, becoming interested in love and other things that Woody has known for a long time already.

As for the lady in distress, it took me a while to like Jesse the Cowgirl. A bit too much rootin’ and tootin’ for my taste. Jesse isn’t always so over the top, though. She was most freakishly energetic when she was happy, like when she discovered Woody:

Jesse: YEE-HAH! IT’S YOU! IT’S YOU! Itsyouitsyouitsyou! IT’S REALLY YOU!

When it looked like she’d go back to storage, she panicked. Overall, she’s a pretty bitter and heartbroken character. One of her most touching scenes is at the airport when Woody finds her curled up in a ball, eyes closed. She looks like she lost everything and she’ll never be happy again. It’s a very sweet contrast to all the yelping and yodeling.

Jesse is most famous for explaining why toys like playtime so much; just like real people, they all walk and talk, but fulfilling their purpose makes them alive: 

Jesse: Let me guess. Andy’s a real special kid. And to him, you’re his buddy, his best friend. And when Andy plays with you, it’s like even though you’re not moving, you feel like you’re alive, because that’s how he sees you. 

Woody: How did you know that? 

Jesse: Because Emily was just the same. 

She is mighty when her time finally comes. Woody loses his grip when they sneak out the plane through the landing gear. Jesse manages to hold on to the column with one arm and clasp Woody’s hand with the other. With Woody’s help she swings to safety onto Bullseye’s back.

It’s a wonder that Jesse can trust anyone at all, considering the influence of Stinky Pete the prospector. I admire how symbolic his box is. You don’t see him for who he really is until he steps outside it. Before that, he seems very old, wise, gentle, and protective.

Stinky Pete (to Woody): Oh, it’s just a popped seam. Easily repaired. You should consider yourself lucky…Jesse, you know he wouldn’t last an hour on the streets in his condition. It’s a dangerous world out there for a toy.

He’s also a bit of an outsider, too. Having watched so many toys come and go behind his plastic cage, the only role he’s ever had as a toy is for people to walk by, look at him, and move on. When Woody invites the Round-Up gang to join him at Andy’s house Pete can’t even comprehend what it means to play with children. I guess it doesn’t occur to him that anyone would actually play with a prospector doll. The toy museum is a more glorious version of the life he knows: many people walking by, looking at him, and moving on. Only this time, people will admire him for never having been played with. As a collector, I give Pixar a high-five for pointing out the “mint condition” paradox.

Once Stinky Pete opens his box and reveals his character, we can look back and see his villainy manifest in such subtle ways. Discouraging Woody to venture outside the building. Relying on Jesse’s sad life to appeal to Woody’s softer side. Rolling his eyes at his half-brained antics on TV—it’s no wonder no one wanted to play with Stinky Pete dolls. The prospector manipulated everyone, exploiting Jesse’s feelings of abandonment and Woody’s sense of family.

When approached, Stinky Pete’s more jealous of any toy that got sold than of space toys in general:

Stinky Pete: I’ll tell you what’s not fair: spending a lifetime on a dime-store shelf watching every other toy be sold. Well, finally my waiting has paid off, and no hand-me-down cowboy doll is gonna mess it up for me now!

In the time he spent in his box, the prospector must have learned that to be loved is to be handled, is to be used up. Maybe he developed some weird philosophy that he had somehow been preserved for a safer, more sanitized destiny than the others. Since he never knew the joy that Woody and Jesse have known, he never saw how feeling alive made playtime worth the wear and tear, as evidenced by his oddly prophetic rant towards the end:

Stinky Pete: Idiots! Children destroy toys! You’ll all be ruined! Forgotten! Spending eternity rotting in some landfill!

His words still echo through Toy Story 3.

The most surprising discovery I made was the connection between Woody and Rex. Yep. You’ll have to hear me out on this one. They have a similar conflict. Rex begins the movie trying to complete a Buzz Lightyear video game. He’s pretty good at it, making it all the way to the final fight with Zurg. Sadly, though, he can’t defeat Zurg because tyrannosaurs have scrawny arms unsuitable for gaming.

You can see how devoted he is to the game on the way to Al’s Toy Barn. Everyone is exhausted and Rex says that he’s “losing health units.” Then he gets sidetracked with a gamer’s cheat manual and starts to form his own opinions about the game, that maybe the game makers are trying to enslave the players. His backbone starts to form more fully when they meet up with the new, improved Buzz (Now with a belt!). New Buzz’s delusion makes the environment seem like a full-size replica of the game. The moment of truth comes when the toy Zurg defeats New Buzz. Now Rex is the one to encourage Buzz to believe in himself, knocking Zurg off the elevator just as Zurg is about to finish New Buzz off.

He never makes it to the end of the game, but his actual experience made up for it.

Rex: I don’t need to play. I’ve lived it!

 The same is true for Woody. He never gets to see if his TV character completes the jump across the canyon, since the show died in the middle of a cliffhanger. But he and Jesse perform their own death-defying leap off a plane taking off.

Woody: Just pretend it’s the final scene from Woody’s Roundup! 

Jesse: But it was cancelled! We never found out if you made it! 

Woody: Then let’s find out together!

 They created their own ending to their legend. I think this is an unappreciated message in the film, overshadowed by the “serious issues about fame and mortality.” Stories give us courage and inspiration, be they histories or fables. Buzz’s fake Academy still shapes who he is. Woody is a bit more poised and determined from here on. Even Rex keeps up with the rest of the toys in his bumbling way. What stories and people inspire you?

And, as a footnote, for those who wonder, I haven’t seen Brave yet. I started a tradition of seeing the newest Pixar movie on the 4^th of July each year. Next week I’ll check Brave out, and give a few of my thoughts about it. End of part 2.