This Week:
- Obviously I cried at the new Toy Story.
- The hottest spot in the U.S. is Rhode Island.
- Still not over the Knicks.
- The Widow’s Bay finale was insane.
- A wild red carpet.
My Favorite Toys Are Back
Arrest them. Disney and Pixar. They chose violence. They know what they did.
I nestled into my screening of Toy Story 5, which, conspicuously, was populated mostly by adults my age, I guess jonesing for the same nostalgia hit I was. The movie started, and I was immediately giggling. It’s great. And then it happened.
Woody took off his hat, and he had a bald spot.
As someone of Woody’s age, that was not shocking to see. All of my friends are balding. On a particularly windy day, I hold onto my hair because I’m paranoid about the last follicles blowing away. My recent trip to Scotland was spent with my hands cradling my head. I apparently have resigned myself to carpeting in my bathroom; the rug being my dearly departed hairs.
It was the shock and gasps from my fellow Toy Story 5 audience members that got me. And then their uproarious laughter, each time Woody’s bald spot was used for another sight gag and joke.
As the rest of Toy Story 5 unfolded, I had so many other moments of realization about how much time has passed, how old I’ve gotten, my curmudgeonly impulses because of it, and how painfully emotional that all is.
I know we all have sequelitis, and are conditioned to assume all IP-related major releases are shameless money grabs. But I had a feeling while watching Toy Story 5. Geriatric millennials (most offensive moniker ever created) need this installment of the franchise, just as we needed the other four. Yes, this is a great movie that kids will get a kick out of. But I also felt like it was made for me, for us, those for whom Toy Story has been our defining franchise.
I know we like to think of blockbusters, spandex, and light sabers as the movie franchises that define and excite us. But I think it’s actually Woody, Buzz, and a Randy Newman song (I won’t be discussing that utterly “meh” of a Taylor Swift song in Toy Story 5) that is actually the millennial franchise of our time.
We were the kids astonished by the computer-animated technology in 1995, and intoxicated by the idea of how it rendered our sense of play. That was a huge thing, too. This was a movie that dramatized our imaginations. We all had Woodys and Buzzes and Rexes and, certainly, Slinkys and Mr. Potato Heads. It was a film that dignified our whimsy, which, even as a kid, felt profound.
It’s remarkable that across several sequels, the filmmakers held that mission. Toy Story 3 was brutally existential at a time when we needed that validated. And now, Toy Story 5 is —I hate to say it, while admiring it—ushering us into our midlife crises.
The premise of the movie is that technology is threatening the role of toys. Jessie, the cowgirl voiced by Joan Cusack, is the lead of this movie (hell frickin’ yeah), and stumbles upon a yard of washed-up, discarded playthings who warn her: “Tech!” “Devices!” “All the tapping!” It’s another extinction event for poor Rex.
She climbs to the roof and peers out at the neighborhood, seeing, through the windows, all the kids and parents scrolling on their screens, not connecting with each other. Certainly not playing. Her human, Bonnie, is at a crossroads, still playing imaginatively with her toys, but also wanting a device to be cool. Enter the villain: Lilypad, hilariously voiced by Greta Lee.
While I am not, most of my friends are parents now. I’ve seen them grapple with this same dilemma about tech, screens, and devices. What Toy Story 5 does beautifully is, through the tribulations and lessons learned by this crew of toys we’ve adored for (has a heart attack as he types this) decades, give everyone grace.
It should be no surprise that the infiltrating, threatening devices come to realize the value of practical toys and their role in play and imagination in making Bonnie’s life better. That said, it’s still, as a balding adult wondering if AI is going to take his job and make it obsolete, incredibly comforting during the first two acts when all the toys are roasting the brain-fry, personality-stripping devices.
Some people might think it’s a cop-out that the film starts aggressively against tech, then pivots to a “let’s embrace it and all get along” message. But I think it’s comforting. None of us are bad for being tantalized by or even relying on the shiny new thing. Just as long as we don’t lose the humanity that underscores and exists after every software update.
Toy Story 5 hits on every anxiety I’ve ever had, both existing and imaginary—though my imaginary ones must be very real for actual parents. What if tech is the wrong choice? What happens if children completely abandon play? Do they grow up too fast? And for me, the emotional center of the film hit way too hard: What happens when a bright, vibrant, incredible child doesn’t have friends, just because she’s left behind by the new hip thing?
The thought of a bullied child is the thing that immediately makes me cry. You can imagine how I handled Toy Story 5.
I do think it’s interesting that my generation has seen the rise of Marvel, the Harry Potter universe, Twilight, the Star Wars reboot, and so many other franchises. But I do think it’s Toy Story that’s the defining one. Chronicling our adulthood by reminding us of our childhood at every step? That’s some insane therapizing Pixar, Tom Hanks, Tim Allen, and Joan Cusack has done. Randy Newman, too.
But it makes sense. After all, what is as simply comforting—and, in our divisive times, as renegade—as just knowing: You’ve got a friend in me.
We Have a New Classic TV Show
I am exhilarated. I’m Cloud 9. I’m mainlining crackas and calling everyone I know “Ma.”
The Real Housewives of Rhode Island just concluded its first season, with its reunion episodes starting this weekend on Bravo. What a perfect, reassuring season of television.
I can’t be the only Real Housewives fan who wondered, based on the amount of jail time, divorces, lawsuits, and foreclosures, whether we had milked my beloved franchise dry, to the point that it had become too toxic. Then my clam-digging queens arrived.
Yes, they had a lot of drama. But they’re also a ton of fun. Moreover, they know each other in dizzying ways. (Trying to figure out who dated whose husbands or ex-boyfriends or siblings in the past requires a flow chart I’m not equipped to produce.)
My end-of-season assessment: Keep all of ‘em. Jo-Ellen and Alicia are reigning queens. Casting struck gold with them. Liz terrifies me (complimentary). Ashley confuses me (also complimentary). Kelsey and Rosie are *chef’s kiss* perfect frenemies. And then there’s Rulla, the most compelling presence-free TV icon there’s ever been. It makes no sense, yet perfect sense.
I’m so glad to have this perfect show.
This Is How You Do a Speech
It’s rare that people are jealous of me. Especially when I’ve done nothing to deserve it.
But living in New York City in the wake of the Knicks’ championship? I feel like I’ve won somehow.
The ticker-tape parade celebrating the champions was everything I would never be a part of: Needing to wake up early, no food, no beverages, no bathroom. In fact, every video I’ve seen of the crowd that wasn’t even at the parade but turned away from it was a nightmare hellscape brought to life.
But then there was Mayor Mamdani’s speech. My man killed it. In my line of work, I’m forced to watch a lot of speeches, and it’s rare for someone to be as inspiring and charismatic, yet somehow humble and of-the-people as he is. I’d call it my favorite TV moment of the week. (Yes, I watched it on TV. Hell no, I wasn’t at that parade route.) But that would be a disservice to Widow’s Bay.
That Is How You Do a TV Finale
So about Widow’s Bay… I’ve written about the wild finale twist that, to my idiotic, unable to predict any sort of plot point on TV mind, elicited the biggest gasp I’ve ever gasped. You can read about here.
But I would just like to say how fun it is to receive the question that anyone, because of my job, asks: What’s good to watch right now? And to be able to scream in their face: OH MY GOD YOU NEED TO WATCH WIDOW’S BAY.
Kate O’Flynn is the performance of the year, non-Lisa Kudrow Category, in my opinion. And Matthew Rhys, obviously, is fantastic. But watch out for K Callan, who is 90-years-old, delivering the performance of a lifetime in the finale.
The Jackass Movie Premiere Had a Butthole
More From The Daily Beast’s Obsessed
The Summer House post-reunion special was basically a trilogy of Frost/Nixons. Read more.
Speaking of Widow’s Bay, an interview with the creator. Read more.
Larry David’s story about the one joke Barack Obama wrote for his new show. Read more.
What to Watch This Week:
Toy Story 5: Bring some Kleenex, obviously. (Now in theaters)
Sugar: The craziest twist I’ve ever seen finally resolves itself. (Now on Apple TV)
I Will Find You: It’s a beach-read of The Fugitive. That’s an endorsement. (Now on Netflix)
What to Skip This Week:
Other Sports: Let us still ride the Knicks love. It’s been 53 years. (Everywhere)
