MATTHEW BURNETTE

Staff Writer

I often find myself making a comment to someone about how I grew up watching certain movies and television shows, and a lot of those I’ve written about. I revel in those sustaining characters that are as enjoyable now as they were in my younger years.

There’s one franchise, possibly over all the others, that can I can easily say that not only did I grow up watching, but that grew up with me as well.

In addition to the other things that I like, I’ve also written before about a particular affinity I had as a kid for the Toy Story franchise. You’ve read about my Buzz Lightyear sneakers and that Halloween as a kid where I dressed up as Mr. Potato Head.

I also had this really comfortable Toy Story comforter that I used well past the appropriate age for one to use such a thing, having to finally give it up when it essentially disintegrated.

But the more I think about it, the more I realize that there’s been this weird cosmic alignment in the world where the various movies’ releases have seemingly connected to where I’m at in life.

The first film came out when I was only a couple of years old, and I don’t actually remember seeing it until I was about four. A pair of great-grandparents came into town and had bought it for us on VHS.

It was the perfect fun movie for a kid my age. It added this air of mystery into my world. Do toys really get up and walk around when you’re not looking? You better believe I peaked around the corners on several occasions to try and find out. But alas, they were always too quick for me to ever know for sure…

The second installment was the first time the Toy Story franchise ever broke my heart. The first time I ever saw it was at the age of seven at a church lock-in.

If you’re not familiar with the concept of a lock-in, you basically bring a sleeping bag and sleep on the floor of a place where you frequent but don’t typically sleep at.

The movie that our youth group leaders played in an effort to keep us all congregated in the designated sleeping area was Toy Story 2. In the film, Woody gets separated from the group and added to a collection owned by a not-so-nice toy collector.

In the process, Woody learns that he was based off of an old western show and meets fellow toys from the same series including Jesse, a cowgirl, and Bullseye, a horse who would both become staples of the franchise.

The heartbreak struck during a scene where Jesse recounts how she ended up as part of the collection after being left at a donation bin by her owner. To add even more emotion, the story is played out to a song sung by Sarah McLachlan, the voice of an angel that can make you cry like the devil.

As a kid, often your biggest fear is being left behind somewhere, so the scene hit me directly “in my feels,” as the young folk say, and I had to go compose myself in the bathroom of the church’s fellowship hall.

Toy Story 3 is arguably the best in the series, even being cited by acclaimed film director Quentin Tarantino as one of the greatest films of the 21st century and the “perfect” ending to a trilogy.

It too broke my heart, albeit for a different reason.

The film came out in 2010. It sees the toys unintentionally being given away as Andy prepares to leave for college. They end up at a daycare center and have to find their way back home. At the end, as the toys are reunited with Andy, he gives them to a young girl named Bonnie after being prompted by a note from Woody.

In the end, Andy thanks his toys and leaves for college.

I first saw the third film the same year that I graduated from high school. I found myself at the same crossroads as Andy, that weird time in life where you know it’s time to leave the things of youth behind so that you can grow as an adult.

Even as I type this, I notice small droplets falling on my keyboard. A truly incredible ending to a film.

With my fandom of the franchise already established, I found myself incredibly skeptical a decade later when they released a fourth film.

You ended the story perfectly. Why potentially ruin that by trying to continue?

Regardless, I went and saw it. It was actually the first Toy Story film that I watched in a theater. A good buddy and I went and watched it on a weekend evening to surprising results.

Despite the accusations of “money grabbing” and the worries about quality, somehow, the film worked. Did it live up to the other three? Maybe not, but it was a pretty good movie that, again, hit me right where I was in life.

At the end, Woody finds himself wanting to search for a greater purpose in life and to move on from what he’s always known but not without hesitation. He ultimately says farewell to all of his friends and embarks on a new journey.

My first viewing of the film was at a time in life where I found myself hoping for more and wanting to see what the world had in store for me. Not necessarily something better, but something different where I could discover my full potential.

A story about a group of toys that come alive taught me that it was okay to take those leaps in life even with a fear of falling.

By the time this is in the paper, I will hopefully have already seen Toy Story 5. At least that’s the plan.

Just like with the fourth film, I have my concerns about it. But if there’s one thing that has been consistent over the last 31 years, at least in my case, it’s that Toy Story films just don’t disappoint. They somehow pull it off every time.

I can’t wait to see what this one manages to teach me about myself.