I bailed on the Toy Story franchise after the second installment (’99), which I saw because the kids weren’t quite tweenish enough to be snide about family fare. It was okay, engaging for what it was, good enough…zzzzz.
But I completely ignored Toy Story 3 (’10), and proudly at that. Yeah! It goes without saying that I wouldn’t watch Toy Story 4 on a long flight to Seoul in which I had no wifi, nothing to read, no Percocets and absolutely nothing else to do. Which is why I politely bypassed last night’s all-media screening at the El Capitan…no offense.
I’m not sorry about missing either one. But if I had seen Toy Story 3 I would at least be able to appreciate Peter Bradshaw‘s lament. He’s basically saying that the third installment “had that staggering and triumphant sense of what we all yearn for in the cinema — a sense of an ending. The glorious finality [of Toy Story 3] is what made it such a triumph in many ways, and so I have to say, if this doesn’t sound too absurd, that Toy Story 4 kind of loses the integrity of the existing Toy Story trilogy.”
On the other hand thank God I don’t have to even consider such concepts.
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