I think we're at our best by the flicker by the light of the TV set.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Toy Story Tearjerker

There's a snake in my boot! And a lump in my throat!

I finally got around to seeing Toy Story 3 (when my bff and I happened to stumble past Times Square on a hot July afternoon where we paid close to $40 to see it in 3D). The movie killed me. Talk about a tearjerker! You can't understand the emotional pull unless you see it. So, please, go see it. Bring a tissue. You won't want to use the butter stained napkin in your lap. (All that grease might cause pimples.) Also, no need to see it in 3D. Save your dolla dolla bills.

This film is by far the best of the three and therefore, well worth the 11 year hiatus. Andy - owner of Woody, Buzz and Co. - is packing for college and deciding what to do with his childhood friends. He has a bit of trouble choosing their destiny - bring them with him? sotre them in a box in the attic? send them to the dump? donate them to a preschool? Poor Andy, despite his big bad high school graduation, can't bear to fully acknowledge his grown-up status by parting with his best friends. TEARJERKER! Meanwhile, Woody, Buzz and Co. are terrified of learning their fate. They don't want to leave Andy. However, they haven't been played with in years and feel unloved. So tragic!

While watching Toy Story 3, I was overwhelmed with an intense nostalgia and a severe sudden urge to dig out my 40 or so Barbie dolls from their storage tubs in my parents' basement. I packed them away over a decade ago - the dolls, their fantastic wardrobes, their cars (mustangs, jeeps, Bawyatch speed boat!), the movie theater, McDonald's, hair salon, pet shop, etc. I had everything. As soon as I was old enough to know better than to stick a plastic Barbie high-heel in my mouth, I began my collection. It developed into something truly outstanding. Y'all would be amazed at the boxes and boxes and boxes of memorabilia I saved. I can't part.

It's a rare animated movie that can make a grown man cry. I think my male bff was blubbering. I tried to keep the tears to a minimal, but I was choking on the lump in my throat. How can a bunch of talking toys have such a profound effect on our emotions?

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