Toy Story: Meaning, Identity, and Transformation

When I first began this Substack, I did so wanting to write simply upon my random questions regarding the universe, reality, and life. Yet writing draws introspection out of me and so I have decided to re-embark upon a journey I have made personally several times and have been attempting to publicize for a number of years now. And that’s my journey with Pixar’s films and how they have helped me to see reality more fully. I first publicly attempted this in three articles back in Jan. of 2021 (I’ll provide the link to my original Toy Story article at the end here), and then in podcast format only last summer. But something was always missing in those analyses and I felt it, not knowing how best to encapsulate what it was exactly that I felt and thought at the time. Now, on the other side of much loss in my life, the debris has cleared and I finally feel free enough to write this out. So welcome to the first in a series on the philosophical progression of Pixar (I’m quite pleased that we can start this adventure with some alliteration).

John Lasseter’s Toy Story is a film that reflects deeply upon the question of identity; whether it is stationary, elusive, or relational. To cite animator Matthew Luhn:

“If there was a dad in 'Toy Story,' the boy would not have had such a need for a doll who represents a kind of authority figure, like Buzz.”

As discussed in my previous article, “What is Beauty?,” to be higher hierarchically is to be one who brings Heaven down to Earth or meaning down to others. Consider the manner in which crude language operates momentarily. Words like “shit,” “fuck,” and “ass” are all examples of language which associates itself *exclusively* with what humans share with animals: namely defecation, urination, and sexual activity. If we as humanity share in God’s image by speaking authoritatively as He spoke the world into being, then our language results in the transformation of reality and those aforementioned words will result in making oneself more bestial or Earthly without any sacredness or Holiness. But we as humans do not partake in these activities as the animals do. We do so in private, with respect for one another.

And so this is a primary lens through which Toy Story ought to be viewed: to be an authoritative figure is to be one who either creates or destroys meaning.

Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers and sisters, for you know that we who teach will face stricter judgment.

-James 3:1

At the outset of the film, it becomes quite clear that Andy derives his meaning from the toys (hence them replacing his father) and that the toys likewise draw their meaning from him (their absolute fear of being replaced is telling). Yet as Adam and Eve were cast down and out of the mountainous garden of Eden, Woody must be cast off the bed and Buzz out the window in order to undergo a movement towards glory. Again, death precedes resurrection. So Toy Story transcends its way towards becoming a movement of maturation and ascension. The story of Buzz clearly articulates this, as he struggles with an inability to fly; his understanding that his image of astronaut is true is deconstructed as he moves from believing that the world clearly conveys truth in the form of image to acknowledging his inabilities in order to become properly meaningful. It might be tempting at first glance to accuse Toy Story of participating in post-modern deconstruction of image, but I think we ought to think a little deeper. Buzz’s identity is originally rooted not in his actual image, but rather in the technologies with which he is equipped. The film does not actually deconstruct his space ranger persona, but resurrects it into the means by which Woody and R.C. are saved and meaning is brought down to Andy when they descend into the car. So Buzz’s arc of transformation is related to his image. It’s the struggle we have been going through during the last several decades. How can I be made in the image of God if I fail to meet it perfectly and technology seems to be the perfecter of the human body?

Woody is the true protagonist of this film though, and his arc of redemption relates not so much to his image (though that is involved), but primarily to his identity. The toys bear the name of their owner, they are in fear of being replaced by their owner, and this all results in violence and jealousy between the toys. If my image is bound so much in my Creator and I live in fear of His rejection, how can that be healthy? The relationship between Woody and Buzz is archetypally similar to Cain and Abel. Both Woody and Cain attempt murder out of jealousy grounded in the perceived rejection of their Creator/owner, and both are also the leaders of cities. So the grappling of the film as it pertains to our identities could be summarized as such: if the bearing of the name/image of a higher power results to fear-based violence, how can anyone truly argue that power dynamics bring stability or peace?

We might see this similarly to Ridley Scott’s Alien films, in which corporate authorities abuse blue collar workers by having A.I. robots ensure the safety of sexualized monsters that terrorize the lower classes. As a Christian writer, works of art like Toy Story and Alien allow me to emphasize further with those who question the validity of hierarchy as helpful to humanity. I may not agree with the conclusions, but I do want to acknowledge the depth and compassion that goes into these efforts of work. And so although my mind may not be changed as it pertains to the overarching structure of reality, I am still changed personally to care for those I disagree with more.

What’s of further interest to note is that although the toys of Andy end up jealous, bickering, and fighting. Communion, renewal, and transformation are brought about by Woody and Buzz’s descent into death in Sid’s house (ironically enough, when we first see Sid in the arcade, he is playing an arcade game riffing on Scott’s Alien films). Though the image of Andy and his toys seems proper and ordered, strife and disorder ensue from his house. Yet Sid’s house is filled with destroyed toys who work together towards healing Buzz. Their trauma results in restoration. This may be seen as parallel to how many adherents to religions that are perceived as corrupt and violent are kinder and more harmonious than many adherents of the established religion here in the West: Christianity. To cite my last article again, image does not perfectly encapsulate reality, Heaven, or what Plato calls the Forms. This world is distorted and perceived images often take on the inverse of what they display.

It is through this interaction with Sid’s house, with the periphery and the margin, that Woody and Buzz are ultimately restored though. Knowledge of reality does not equate to experience of reality. Woody’s danger at the beginning of the film is that of Romans 11

But if some of the branches were broken off, and you, a wild olive shoot, were grafted among the others to share the rich root of the olive tree, do not boast over the branches. If you do boast, remember: you do not support the root, but the root supports you.

-Rom. 11:17-18

So there is a tension that Toy Story thus manages to pull off rather well. Although image does not always reveal as it ought, we ought to live according to the fullness of our image. Woody’s issue at the outset was resting upon his identity as leader of the toys and not as Andy’s toy. Woody is terrified that a Space Ranger will surpass the Cowboy because that’s the movement of image in the 20th century. Buzz thus mirrors him through entering his life. Neither is comfortable with who or what they truly are in reality and hope to be something else. But the result that ensues is depression, fragmentation, and hurt. True renewal to the community only comes at the end of the film. Woody’s relationship to himself is healed when he begins to see that identity is his relationships rightly ordered under Andy. He must relate to Buzz, not as Cowboy vs Space Ranger, but as two under a common banner. We may try to re-enchant ourselves through names which fracture and which humanity does not share in common, but those re-enchantments can neither heal nor unify.

This is the answer to the problems in our day. As cited by Luhn earlier, the relationship portrayed between Andy and his toys is parental by nature. Children correspond to the bottom of the mountain of reality; they are the multiplicity and base of the mountain that spreads out throughout the Earth. They are the third highest good (the greatest is the Church/sanctuary and the second is marriage). Corresponding to children/family are lower goods like workplaces, political spheres, and anything communal. When we fail to protect the Sanctuary/Church as Adam did, the other spheres will collapse. Marriage will turn into adultery and family into brother-murder. That’s what our political realms are now: a mess of violence, despair, and factioning on gender/racial/sexual/religious lines. The culture has been taught this because the Sanctuary hasn’t been guarded. We have become like Woody, comfortable in our personal identities separate from the community of the Church. We want to establish ourselves according to our personal opinions and persuasions, rather than submitting to a higher good. Christians can’t commune at the same table because “my way is the right way,” rather than as our Lord said “this is my Body given for you.” Our personal arrogance has resulted in the peak of the mountain being discoupled and divorced from the base. We ought not look at our non-Christian friends through a lens of fear or bitterness, but with a kind love and repentance, knowing that our actions have caused so much of the pain around us. At the same time, we must avoid a hatred or bitterness to the Church institutionally. She is the Bride of Christ and is pure and perfect, even when her members are not. Our failures are failures to live up to her splendour.

I will say that I do have some concerns with Toy Story. The film really hones in hard on the concept of image being untrustworthy to what I would consider to be too strong of an extent. You can’t trust a toy’s image as a toy, because it is truly alive. You can’t trust Andy’s toys image, because they are a fragmented bunch. You can’t trust the image of Sid’s toys, because they are all good. It just doesn’t feel nuanced enough. Image does still convey reality, no matter how imperfectly. Heroes still truly are heroes, monsters still monsters. The paradox is there, but it isn’t so simplistic.