Toy Story 4 has done something that no previous Toy Story movie has done. Not only did Andrew Stanton and Stephany Folsom's script introduce the decidedly nontraditional toy character known as Forky (Tony Hale), it also chose to explore the mythology behind what it means to be a toy in Pixar's fictional franchise. How are they made? What gives them sentience? What separates trash from toys? And what rules does a toy have to follow simply by the nature of being a toy?

These are all heady, existential questions, and you don't need to ponder the answers to them to enjoy Toy Story 4. It's arguably the funniest of the four films and features some madcap sequences populated with the silliest characters in the franchise who are brought to life by some of the most talented actors working today. It's got heart, humor, and an added tinge of nostalgia, while also acting as a possible (hopeful) swan song for the toys we've spent nearly 25 years getting to know. Be sure to read Matt Goldberg's review here. But there's an interesting subtext here about what it means to be a toy that I'd like to explore. Some spoilers follow.

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Back in 1995, Pixar's Toy Story burst onto the scene in a big way as the studio's first feature film and the first-ever movie to be completely computer-animated. The conceit was straightforward: A group of toys fear being forgotten and abandoned by their owner, Andy, when his birthday party brings the threat of brand new toys into their closed world. While Toy Story may have reawakened that childhood guilt from not giving an equal share of playtime to each and every one of your toys, it also introduced a fantastic franchise that would go on to tell earnest stories exploring the human emotional condition for the next 25 years (at least). But another aspect of Toy Story that's been less explored by the movies over the years has been the mythology around the actual toys themselves.

Toy Story establishes the basics: First and foremost, toys in this world are anthropomorphic and lead lives of their own whenever humans are not around but must never be seen as anything other than playthings by humans. They also come with personalities and outlooks befitting their creation (ie an adventurous Space Ranger and a law-keeping cowboy sheriff), might not instantly recognize that they are in fact toys, and desperately desire children to want to play with them and love them. That latter idea was core to the Toy Story story, an evolution of the central idea in the 1988 Pixar short Tin Toy, which saw toys terrified of their destructive owners. But Toy Story also introduced an interesting wrinkle to the mythology of toy creation through the Dr. Frankenstein-like neighbor kid, Sid Phillips.

Sid is put forward as an obstacle to overcome, a sort of miniboss, in the first movie, but he's also the first character to create a toy that didn't come out of a box. Sure, Sid's mutant toys are cobbled-together pieces of other toys, like action figures, baby dolls, and Erector Sets, so they're less creations from whole cloth and more abominations of existing toys. These mutant toys still abide by the rules of toys established elsewhere in the film; it's just their appearance that's been drastically altered. But these good-hearted toys can be pushed too far. With Buzz's life on the life, Woody rallies the mutants to break the #1 rule of Toyhood in order to scare Sid straight:

As of the release of Toy Story 4, Sid remains the only human who's aware of toys' sentient nature. Somehow, he managed to grow up into a well-adjusted individual despite this horrifying Small Soldiers / Puppetmaster scenario and was last seen employed as a garbage man.

Toy Story 2 did quite a bit to push the franchise forward in 1999, including the meta-mythology about what it means to be a toy. Woody discovers the inspiration behind his creation by watching a 1950s black-and-white Western-themed puppet show, along with fellow boon companions Jessie, Bullseye, and Stinky Pete the Prospector. Faced with either being literally shelved and forgotten along with broken and old toys or achieving a sort of fame and immortality while on display in a museum, the "Woody's Roundup" gang opts for the latter choice ... at least until Buzz reminds them all that the true purpose of a toy is to be played with and cherished by kids. The "Woody's Roundup" toys, minus Pete, decide to return home to Andy and enjoy their time with him and each other for as long as they can until the next adventure comes along.

Toy Story 3, a 2010 installment that many fans thought would be the franchise's finale, finds the famous toys at the center of another conundrum: Their owner, Andy, has grown up and outgrown most of his toys. As he prepares to head off to college, he plans to put Woody & Co. in storage, though they end up donated to a daycare instead. Sounds idyllic since there are always kids around to play with them. But it's soon evident that Andy's toys aren't fans of the rough play at the hands of toddlers, which is a nod back to the Tin Toy short. So while the toys manage to escape the daycare, they resign themselves to presumed destruction in one of the toughest to watch yet most-touching scenes in the franchise. But that's not the end for our toys! Not only do they survive near-incineration, they get another lease on life as Andy donates his beloved toys to kindhearted daycare attendee, Bonnie. (They may have pushed the limits of the #1 rule a bit by writing a note to Andy with Bonnie's address on it, and by communicating between Bonnie's house and the daycare with letters.)

It's not just the heroes of the franchise who abide by these rules; the villain of Toy Story 3 opted not to violate the #1 rule, even if it would have saved his own fur:

So far, three Toy Story movies have explored a lot of existential questions about the nature of toys and what it means to be one. Toy Story 4 adds a new wrinkle by introducing a totally new and pure creation in the character of Forky. This character is the first toy made from spare parts and "trash", the first that didn't come out of a factory or a box. Forky is also similar to Sid's mutant toys back in the first film, but his creator is the polar opposite. Bonnie made Forky out of loneliness, a desire for a friend and pure love for her new creation; Sid made mutant toys in part to terrorize his little sister but also to make some badass punk art that was all his own.

The fact that Forky came to life surprised even Woody himself. The ol' sheriff had a tough time wrangling the new buckaroo who could not accept his role as a toy and vastly preferred its inherent label as "trash" to a hilarious extent. This raises all kinds of existential questions: Can any toy, no matter what it looks like, come to life if a child/creator puts enough emotion into it? Could a toy make another toy in a similar fashion? Toy Story 4 doesn't go too far in exploring answers to these questions. It does, however, put forward an interesting test case in Forky. The movie doesn't center on him but it does put a lot of time and effort into showing Forky coming to terms with his existence and the rules of the world of toys. And by the movie's end, Forky takes it upon himself to introduce "Knifey", a new toy created by Bonnie, to this world, taking on Woody's role in their leader's absence.

On the other side of the existential divide, the story tells a tale of three toys: There's Woody, of course, trying to justify his existence in a world of toys he's trained up and mentored for years but who no longer need him; there's the once-lost and newly found Bo Peep, who has opted to go on her own adventures without being beholden to a child/owner; and there's the old-fashioned doll Gabby Gabby, who will go to great lengths to fix the parts of her that are broken so that she can finally find a new owner, even if that means damaging or destroying other toys in the process. That plot setup isn't just a series of great callbacks to previous films but a continuation of the rules the franchise has set up.

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Image via Disney/Pixar

So here are the rules of being a toy as Toy Story has explored as a franchise so far:

  • #3: Toys might not immediately recognize that they are toys or understand their place in the human world, so it's up to other toys to help them navigate this reality.
  • #2: Toys are meant to be played with by children of all ages, but that choice is ultimately up to the individual toy.
  • #1: Toys must never, ever reveal their sentient existence to humans. This rule can only be broken in extreme cases, such as when a fellow toy is in mortal peril (and the human is a real jerk.)

Toy Story 4 extends the mythology for each rule: Woody's hand-holding and sometimes literal carrying of Forky helps the newly created toy come to grips with his toyhood, even if he has difficulty shaking his "trash-y" nature. (A child psychologist could have a field day with this one.) Though all the toys in this story have different ways of going about it, they all want to be played with by children ... until they don't. Gabby Gabby, now "whole", is rejected by one child but picked up by another in a time of need, fulfilling her desire. On the other hand, Bo Peep's adventurous and unfettered lifestyle, free from children, ends up being appealing to Woody, who had previously wanted to belong to an owner for as long as we've known him. Together, they help find owners for other toys who are trapped in the carnival. Once that's done, the future holds all new opportunities for them which the franchise may or may not explore.

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Image via Disney/Pixar

And the #1 rule gets a fun little exploration in this movie as well. Though Woody and the mutant toys broke it to scare Sid straight way back in 1995's original movie, the sheriff lays down the law when plucky plush duo Bunny and Ducky repeatedly suggest doing the same. Granted, their plans often include scaring the humans half to death to attain their goal, but it sets an interesting parameter for breaking, or not breaking, this most important rule of being a toy.

As silly as it may be to think about the mythology of what it means to be a toy in the world of Toy Story, it's worth mentioning that the many writers who've added to the franchise over the years have kept to the core three rules. Toy Story 4 continues this fine tradition by re-establishing the three rules, pushing the envelope on them a little bit in order to raise new existential questions, and having some fun with it along the way. But what does the possible future hold? There aren't currently any plans (that we know of) for a Toy Story 5 (look for it in 2029?), but there are plans to continue Forky's story in a Disney+ series. That show will see Forky asking questions that we, as adults in the real world, might be afraid to ask because we don't know the answer. Perhaps we'll find out if toys can actually create other toys ... could Forky and Knifey bring another new toy into the fold? We'll have to tune in to find out!

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