A Little Backstory
As a grandpa millennial, I, like the rest of my generation of entitlement
grew up in the golden era of storytelling. The 90’s. And oh, what a time to be
alive. We had fanny packs, gel pens, and those nightmare inducing little abominations that
haunted your dreams. You know the ones I’m talking about.
Those creepy little fluff balls of pure evil that left you waking up in the
middle of the night in a pool of your own cold sweat, trembling atop your Ninja
Turtles bedsheets as you stared into the dark corners of your room that the
light from your neon green lava lamp just couldn’t reach.
At that time, America entertainment was all about the kids, pumping out
cheesy, over-the-top feel-good movies. At the top of it all was Pixar, leading
the way with their 3D animation. Animation that still holds up relatively well
despite the age of the film. In 1995, the studio released Toy Story, to massive
success, climbing its way to one of the highest grossing movies of the year. A
simple story about friendship with a cast of characters right out of every
child’s play chest, what wasn’t to love?
I can’t recall the first time I set eyes on Toy Story, maybe I was too young
to remember, or maybe the brain cells that stored that precious memory were
lost to the years of partaking in that devilish barley flavored water, but the
one thing I know in my heart of hearts is that Buzz Lightyear was the coolest
toy outside of this planet and I needed him.
From the wings, to the blaster, to the perfectly swizzled chin, Buzz was the
stereotypical 80s & 90s action hero my generation was absolutely enamored
with, shrunk down into one awesome space exploring adventurer. The magic of
Buzz Lightyear was completed with the voice acting of Tim Allen. That simple
yet masterful decision took an out-of-this-world character and grounded him
with something we were all familiar with; Tim the Toolman Taylor.
That lovable walking hazard with an unsatiable obsession for horsepower was
the living embodiment of my generation’s fathers. He was brash, capable, and willing
to prove to everyone that he was a man, back when it was still cool to be one.
But he was more than what you saw on the surface. He was kind, caring, and
always trying to do right by his family. All things that I could relate with
because that was my old man. At times it was hard to tell where the Toolman
ended and my father began. Sometimes on a quiet night, if you listened closely,
you could hear the grunts from the garage being carried in on the wind as he
banged around on some ill-conceived project.
That perfect mixture of larger than life, yet relatable character, has
survived the test of time, endearing Buzz Lightyear to the numerous generations
that grew up watching him. With time, though, all things must change, I
suppose. The end of Toy Story 4 brought a passing of the torch and a splitting
of the OG gang. A move that was understandable given the age of the
actors and the future of mainline sequels an unknown. It had become apparent
that the franchise needed to adapt if Disney’s Pixar was going to continue
milking that proverbial cash cow.
A spin-off of the beloved spacefaring character seemed like a no-brainer.
The potential for a Star Command franchise was too juicy to pass up. The
adventures that our space exploring, robot butt kicking, falling in style hero
could be having were endless in a relatively untapped galaxy of opportunities.
For those unaware, there was a film and cartoon released in the early 2000s.
At the time I wasn’t overly impressed, but after the current state of modern
entertainment, it’s an intriguing proposal to return and compare to the newest
installment.
Personally, I was on board and interested to see what they could come up
with. Unfortunately, much like another beloved franchise from my childhood
within the clutches of our favorite monopolistic mouse, this galaxy as well was
too far, far, away for Disney creatives to figure out.
So It Begins…
Like all Pixar flicks, Lightyear is a visually appealing spectacle. The
design elements of the ships, people, and gear straddle that fine line between
fantastical and realism that I enjoy. It’s futuristic yet recognizable to the
tech we know today. There’s not much to say here. It looks good, but it should.
It’s Disney. We’re talking blue crystal Heisenberg pallets of money here
people.
The attempt to blend humor with a dramatic flair should have worked better,
dare I say, would have worked with a bit more writing time and some better
execution. There was about one chuckle, and maybe a smile or two, as many of
the attempted jokes fell flat with some being borderline cringe and awkward to
sit through. And I can already hear the complainers:
“BuT It’S a KiDs MoViE. It’S nOt MaDe FoR yOu!”
To that I say…shut up. Who do you think is paying for the subscription
service? Me, the adult, or little Bobby over there spooning Elmer’s glue into
his mouth? Exactly. Every kid’s movie should be an enjoyable experience for
adults to sit through. Shut your mouth and go crawl back into your snuggy. The
adults are talking.
Where the film really struggles is in the convoluted mess of a storyline. It
feels as if there were two separate scripts the writers couldn’t decide on. One
a sci-fi drama with a realistic tone, the other a zany, exaggerated action
extravaganza. It feels a bit like no one in the pitch room had a coin to flip,
so the only option left was to splice the two together, making the 105 minute
run time begin to feel like a slog as one movie reached its climax and a new
one began. By the end, I didn’t care how, I just wanted the story to wrap up so
I could go back to do something more enjoyable, like taking out the trash, or
cleaning the gutters.
Before we get any further into the nitty gritty, we need to address the
intersectional elephant in the room. Everything being pushed out by Disney nowadays
comes with the expected MOST GAY EVER! banner. In this bubble wrapped and
overly sensitive time we live in, let me lay it out there. I do not care who a
character chooses to tussle with in the sheets. The sexual inclinations of
others is not something that keeps me up at night in my Ninja Turtle bedsheets.
What I do care about, is previous established lore, and treating romances with
respect for the viewers. That is a rule that should always apply, but doubly
when we are talking about age appropriate films.
Now, back to it.
Lightyear introduces a best friend for Buzz. Commander Alisha Hawthorne. She
happens to be a lesbian. You catch glimpses of her life as the movie progresses
through an unnecessary time dilation plot device.
It’s unnecessary for reasons we’ll get to later. Cut the one out
and you could cut the other without affecting the thematical outcome of the
story.
Hawthorne finds love, marries, has a son, has a granddaughter, and passes
away. In my opinion, it’s done respectfully and kid friendly. In truth,
Commander Hawthorne is one of the more endearing characters in the film. I
would have preferred to get more screen time with her than the future of Buzz’s
crew.
*sighs* Ah, Taika…
That being said, if parents would prefer to not have to explain to their
young children how two mommies’ can have children, then that is for them to
decide. Trust me, there are far bigger problems with the story than who kissed
who. The beginning sequence for starters.
When we first meet our hero, he’s being released from cryostasis by an
automated system. Buzz leaves his pod and rushes to the bridge, diverting the
ship off mission course to land because the scanners picked up the possibility
of life. What was the original mission? Not a clue. Exploration, I guess
although the thing was supplied with enough materials to build a colony. Was
this proper protocol? Not really sure, it never gets discussed. What gives him
the authority to make that call? We find out a few moments later that although
Buzz is a captain, he is out ranked by a Commander on the ship.
Why wasn’t the commander woken up to make such an important decision instead
of him? And why wasn’t she upset that he took them off mission? Her captain
just risked the lives of everyone on board by landing on an uncharted location
on the basis that there may be life on it. Why would they not expect the
lifeforms to be hostile, or at the very least primal an a possible threat?
That’s a pretty steep risk to take on a whim. If Star Command was any real
organization with a structured ranking, friend or no, you bet your space
blanket wrapped tuchus that Buzz’s superior would be looking for answers on
this one.
Well, after a dust up with some of the local life forms, our overconfident
space ranger tries to save the day but ignores the condescending AI warnings,
because he hates machines. And rookies. And working as a team. Pretty much
everything really. He’s a bit of a buzzkill. Forget Buzz Lightyear, this movie
is about Captain Buzzkill.
So, Captain Buzzkill crashes the ship, stranding them all on the
planet. How did this happen you may ask? Well, I’ll tell you. A vine. Yup,
that’s correct. A vine creature, easily sliced to bits by an energy bladed
machete, is strong enough to hang up the thrust on a mega starship, veering it
off course and heading it straight for a nearby cliff face.
The movie wants us to believe that the failure of Buzz was that he didn’t
trust the AI and his bigotry was the catalyst for their predicament, but that’s
a pretty hard sell after watching the sequence. What exactly was the AI going
to do that Buzz wasn’t? Call me a naysayer if you will, but I know a thing or
two about man made machinery and it’s capabilities.
I don’t see how an AI would have been able to pull the ship up any faster
than Buzz who had the controls pushed to their physical limits. If
anything, it was a mechanical failure, not a personal one. Nothing was going to
divert that monstrosity of a ship any faster. No wonder Buzz hates the things.
Having an AI bickering at you as your trying to salvage an impossible, high
stress inducing situation must feel akin to driving down the interstate with
your mother-in-law jawing at you from the backseat.
I can see the semi-truck, Jane. It’s three lanes over. I’ve got it!
After the crash, it becomes apparent that they are now stuck on the planet
with no way of communicating with Star Command and no spare fuel crystals to
replace what was damaged. Wait. What!? Why? What organization would sanction a
mission involving a small city’s worth of people to explore the galaxy with no
longform communication, emergency rescue procedures, or even the basic
necessity of replacement fuel cells?! Our own space agency today won’t send a
handful of astronauts on a one-way trip to Mars without the possibility of a
return flight, much less chucking them out into the vast unknown with an
encouraging pat on the back.
Why would an advanced society send 1200 people, millions of lightyears into
space without a plan? You’re expecting me to believe that they are smart enough
to make space faring ships that can travel vast distances of the galaxy and
have unraveled the mystery of cryostasis, without having the common sense to
realize that things break overtime? It’s just a thought, but maybe, just maybe,
replacement parts on a ship like that would be a good idea. Even the Titanic
had a radio and life boats. I mean not enough, just ask our poor boy, Jack
about that, but they at least thought to bring a few.
That headboard would have held you both, Rose and we all know it!
I guess we’re expected to just file this little mystery in the “don’t think about it” pile and move on.
Then we’ve got the big reveal to discuss. Disney, in their ceaseless
obsession for retcons, have decided to altar the very being of who Zurg is.
Once upon a time, in a funny play on Star Wars, Zurg admitted that he was
Buzz’s father. Well, not any longer. Now he’s Buzz. That’s right, he’s Buzz
himself but an older, angrier, alternate timeline version of Buzz. And yes,
chalk that up as another one. Another Disney time travel multiverse.
This revelation allows for our protagonist to defeat his egotistical, older
and grouchier self as he learns to become a changed man. That plot point,
however, is irrelevant, unnecessary, and feels contrived. By the very nature of
him changing his ways, Buzz has already beaten the older version of
himself. All this physical manifestation served to accomplish was inform
me that the writers of the film thought the audience was too simple minded to
understand the metaphor and had to have it spoon fed.
I can just imagine what that pitch looked like.
Writing’s group excited to present: “Alright, what we’ve got is a more
grounded experience. Our hero is confident, capable, and head strong. But…he’s
got a slight flaw. His own ego and a distrust in others. During a moment of
overconfidence, he makes a mistake causing a catastrophe the affects his entire
crew. Determined to set things right, Buzz dedicates himself to righting his
wrong. With the help of an unlikely friend or two, our hero learns the benefits
to working as a team and that it is okay to put his trust in others.”
Totally oblivious Producer: “I see where you’re going here, and I like it,
but I like my script better.”
Writing group: “Oh, okay. Well, what’s your script about?”
Producer reading the doodles off the napkin written in crayon at the Denny’s
five minutes ago: “Let’s see, I’ve got Zurg. Zurg has a robot army. He’s bad,
he’s twisted, he’s Buzz. Oh, and Taika Watiti. Yeah, we’ll get Taika involved.
Let him play himself, it’ll be funny. Ha, Australians…”
Writing group taking notes: “Yeah, Taika, an idiot. Zurg is Buzz. Got it…
Hold on, Zurg is Buzz? But I thought Zurg is Buzz’s father in canon.”
Producer swiping through his Tinder profile: “Forget canon. I don’t even
know what that means. Zurg is Buzz. He’s a time traveler. Figure it out. It’ll
be great.”
Writing group looking nervously around at each other: “Wait, did you say?…I
thought I heard time travel in there?”
Producer clicking his tongue, already on the way out the door: “Of course,
baby. This is Disney. Time travel! It’s in the contract. All time travel, all
the time. Gotta run. Half off at the massage parlor. Just got a fresh shipment
in from China. You’re going to do great things. I can feel it. You’re the
best.”
Seriously, what is Disney’s obsession with time travel right now? The idea
of time travel being a popular plot device needs to be put down faster than a
rabid chihuahua at a hot dog eating competition. Let it die. I bet if we could
convince the talking heads at Disney that time travel was a beloved character
of old, they would burn its legacy to the ground and kill it quicker than a keg
at a frat house.
Speaking about frat houses, if someone told me back in 2001 that Jake Wyler
from Not Another Teen Movie would play the Buzz Lightyear our beloved toy hero
was modeled after, I would have looked at them like there was a Mr. Potato Head
growing out of their ear. Did he do a fine job emulating our favorite Space Ranger?
Sure, maybe, I don’t know. I went in with the hopes that at a certain point I
would forget about it, but I never adjusted. From his first line as he
monologued to himself, to the last infinity and beyond, all I could think of
was how it sounded just a bit off would have landed harder in Tim Allen’s
voice.
Which brings me to my next set of issues with the creative team. A bunch of
pencil pushing soft hands with no real world experience took it upon themselves
to turn Buzz’s infamous mission logs and turn them into the brunt of a joke. In
their limited view of history, they decided that an explorer taking detailed
loges makes no sense and should be ridiculed by the other members of his
organization.
Look at that guy doing his job. That’s funny! Let’s all point and laugh
It’s called a Captain’s log, kiddos. Look it up.
Another little turd nugget plucked from their combine knowledge of
nothingness was the decision to take the catchphrase that had become synonymous
with our hero, and share it with whoever is his BFF at the time, as if it was a
pair of travelling pants. A love child between a fist bump and Michelangelo’s
Creation of Adam, the phrase is now about as exciting and enthusiastic as the
huddle break from my eight grade basketball B squad as we were playing punching
bag for the older kids who already hit puberty that year.
Now when I hear, To infinity and Beyond!, all I can see is this
discount version of Buzz and his cringe attempt to get Commander Hawthorne’s
granddaughter to join in the gimmick. Naturally, Izzy looks at him like he just
showed up in a white van offering her candy and a ride home. The whole scenario
is awkward and left me questioning if Buzz grew up eating paint chips as a
child like the rest of us.
I’m not really sure if the writers were trying to be funny in that moment or
portray a serious moment of emotional loss as Buzz realizes that Izzy is not
his friend, but there is a less cringy way for Buzz to acknowledge resemblance
to his deceased friend and express emotions at his loss. I mean he completely
forgets that she is an entirely different person.
Identical twins are a thing. Much like a captain’s log, they exist. They are
virtually identical in appearance, and hard to tell apart on a first meeting,
but spend five minutes with a pair and it becomes blatantly obvious who is who.
Buzz’s lack of basic observation in this matter is outstanding. I’m starting
to understand now why an organization would think it’s a good idea to fling a
bunch of their own into space on a suicide mission with no back up fuel
crystals. If this is the best and brightest they’ve got, I’d hate to see the
brain trust in mission command.
Say what you will, you’ll never be able to shake my conviction that a legend
like Tim Allen wasn’t capable of performing a more subdued and convincing
performance of a grounded Buzz Lightyear. I don’t think there is a bigger
insult in the industry than to hand a character an actor has been playing for
nearly thirty years to someone else, only to make them attempt to emulate the
voice of the original actor. It’s not like this was a live action where they
needed to replace the Toolman’s rightfully earned dad bod with a younger
chiseled chin and a fresh six pack. It’s animation. It’s fine.
You keep working on them 12-ounce curls there Timmy. You’ve earned a few.
To Summarize This Crapshoot
On the mention of six packs, thinking makes me thirsty and I ‘m starting to
feel that it’s time for me to move on to the one thing I enjoy even more than
complaining about things. Drinking and complaining about things. So, I’ll leave
it at this.
Lightyear was pretty average at best. It banked on the nostalgia of the
grown up 90s kids to bring their fresh-faced children in to kickstart the new
franchise, but didn’t provide any satisfying substance. This Buzz is the Buzz
we know in name alone. I can get behind the attempt to bring a more grounded,
realistic tone to the space fairing explorer, but the script came off dull and
trying too hard to be something deeper than the puddle of mediocrity it was.
At its core, there is a good message here about learning to recognize one’s
own shortcomings and to trust in those around you. Nowadays a movie where the
main character learns to not be a self-serving narcissist is a rare thing, and
I appreciated it, even if I did find the way the writers made it happen a
little lazy and contrived.
Visually, it’s an appealing display but once the initial magic of the
setting wears off, it leaves the viewer wondering why the movie is still going,
and hoping it ties up soon enough to put the kids down to bed and still have
enough energy to paw at the old lady for a few minutes before she shuts you
down for the night.
There are two movies rolled into one here, neither of which was able to
reach its full potential. Committing to one theme would have served the film
better. Be a quirky drama about a hero overcoming the odds, or a high flying,
robot butt kicking action thriller. Just don’t be a convolute and contrived
retcon that leaves parents wishing they would’ve replaced that fine box of
merlot in the fridge before plopping their kids down in front of this mess.