Turning 17 is a natural, Americanized rite of passage for the avid moviegoer like me. Everyone gives themselves that proud, secret “pat on the back” for reaching the proper age for viewing rated-R movies without adult accompaniment. Well, as I have come to embrace, enjoy and later forget to enjoy these casually assessed liberties, I find that movies geared towards my entertainment rarely entertain, making my once coveted “age pride” a freedom that could be surrendered willingly. I have been to movie after movie, each time carrying around this deep, inherent enthusiasm and anticipation, hopefully wishing that the imminent cinematic experience would be one of worth. And each time, I leave the theatre with a mix of nonchalant unconcern and a fiscal regret. (Did I really just spent $8.00 on tH@T!??)
Toy Story 3 restored my faith in the theatrical experience and gave me a mixed bag of emotion, laughs and principally, lessons. Toys are ironically the “butt” of the joke in the grand scheme of this movies comedic intentions. Often, you forget that these are indeed toys and instead become deeply and interestedly transfixed in the plot, that will indeed satisfy your imagination and inner-child. The very life-like ideals that the movie plays on (no pun intended) are mature for a kid’s movie; bravery, heart, consideration, love, friendship, death, reverie, demise, pain, despair, hope, relationships and ultimately, separation. This movie will provide a juicy, filling plate of delicious laughs and tears for any fun hungry moviegoer. The writing is positively superb, as are all Pixar movies. Seriously, the bulletproof cast and screenplay make this cinematic effort foolproof, and the soaring box office successes, typical of all Pixar gems, is a true testament to their movies undeniable worth. Two thumbs way up!
