MIDNIGHT REVIEWS Toy Story: A Cowboy’s Perspective
Examining the characterisation of everyone’s favourite cowboy throughout the series.
As anyone who has read any of my pieces before might know, I spend a lot of time watching any one of the Toy Story movies. With news that there is a fifth in the offing, somehow featuring the one character everyone had thought had gone, it occurred to me that including Woody in the latest might not be such a strange idea. After all, his character has by far the most complexity and growth throughout the series.
Re-watching the first Toy Story as an adult, I was delightfully astonished by the layers to Woody’s portrayal. First and foremost, the balancing act the Pixar team achieved is astounding. As a child, I remember that, despite some of the naughty things Woody does, he is one of the good guys. As an adult, Woody is clearly a controlling, narcissistic bully with an insanely reckless jealousy bubbling just beneath the surface. When people talk about Pixar making movies for everyone, this is what they mean.
It’s only his stature as top dog that enables him to remain calm. When introduced, as a child we see Woody, sheriff and do-gooder. He has his best pal Slinky to play games with. He runs meetings and warns other toys of problems before giving advice. He has little moments clowning around with the other toys. As an adult, he struts around, knowing full well that he has the mental capacity to ensure his standing. When he calls a meeting, he orders Slinky to pretend to be happy. Is this because he wants everyone to feel as calm as possible? Or because Woody wishes to remain in control?
Every other facial expression Woody has during this introduction, whether it’s yanking a microphone that didn’t follow him or chastising and shoving Ham for not understanding batteries, is a negative one. I might be the first to compare Woody to a serial killer, but it brings to mind a moment from American Psycho. “Not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust.” With Woody, you could add smugness.
When Buzz shows up, the aforementioned jealousy comes seething to the forefront. Every action, every decision that Woody makes up until the third act is driven by this feeling. As a child, these are just two squabbling friends. To an adult, Woody will do anything to keep his iron grip on power. Even when he accidentally knocks Buzz out of a window, his focus is on talking his way out of a jam, as opposed to any clear remorse.
By the end of the third act, Woody and Buzz have formed a true friendship which still includes the odd snipe from Woody. But at this point, his jealousy is under control and he is confident with who he is and where he stands. Shaky ground is no longer under this cowboy’s boots. This is because, instead of acting out of jealousy and selfishness, Woody accepts he is part of a wider world that does not revolve around him.
Early on, Woody argues with Ham, Rex etc. about Buzz’s stature. They believe Buzz to be the coolest toy in the world; he blasts back that Buzz is made of plastic with a ‘laser’ that is simply ‘a little light bulb that blinks!’ Despite the other toys ignoring him, Woody is still convinced he is right and because of the way the world of Andy’s bedroom has worked (Woody is unquestioned leader, with a bed as his throne) he finds it impossible to see how he is wrong. He’s an emperor with no clothes at this point; a sheriff without a badge.
Later, however, he is proven unequivocally wrong when it comes to the toys in Sid’s bedroom. It’s around this point in the movie where Woody’s change of heart comes about and it’s no surprise that it’s when he finds himself in a situation where he can’t argue his original, fire from the hip belief.
Woody is a reactionary up to this point. Quick to come up with a plan and, to his credit, he ably takes most diversions or problems in his stride. A master improviser. It’s only when his jealousy or fear of being lost comes to the fore that we see anything approaching panic. In this way, his characterisation is incredibly realistic and consistent. Whilst the animation was something almost completely new and an eye-catching revelation, it’s good old-fashioned clear cut characters that hold everything together.
Come Toy Story 2, any darkness underneath the current is pretty much exorcised. But the predisposition towards anger inside Woody is still there. A problem some stories can have, is that each character is interchangeable; they sound alike, they act alike, sometimes they even act and sound like their author. But if Woody had been swapped for, say, Buzz, we know the story would’ve played out differently. Despite his pomposity when he believes himself to be a toy, by the time Toy Story 2 comes around, Buzz comes off more like that relaxed uncle who is incredibly cool but doesn’t take himself too seriously. Cue Woody arguing aggressively with Jessie, two cowpokes determined to find their own way or Al help them fight their own way out.
But even though he has this aggressive streak when pressure is applied, Woody has definitively moved from antagonist to protagonist come this sequel. His old habits (his need to be proven right; his immediate unsteadiness when accused of doing wrong) are still there, and probably always will be, but the difference between Woody then and now is that he has other toys’ points of view in mind.
Come Toy Story 3 we have, whether accidentally or on purpose, what could have been. That fuzzy purple bear promising love and hugs is what Woody could’ve become if he hadn’t had the good fortune of being proved wrong and seeing the error of his ways. Lotso hasn’t had this, and he has gone full despot in the meantime.
The focus on good-bad between Toy Story and Toy Story 2 is important. Woody starts getting the broad brush strokes right in that he doesn’t put his own happiness and stature above the lives of others. It becomes slightly more nuanced in this third instalment.
Woody is much more on the same wave length as the rest of the gang here, and as such he happens to not be so much of a main protagonist. Sure, he’s voiced by Tom Hanks and is still sheriff, but here each toy feels like they’re part of a group with equal standing. Less hero and more one of the heroes. His characterisation has evolved not so much in terms of good-bad, but in the way he doesn’t need to be the main character all the time. This is reflected in the film. It’s important when he loses his hat, but it’s more important when Mr Potato Head gets stuck outside and becomes Mr Wrap Head.
Where things get really interesting is Toy Story 4. Woody is back being the main character, front and centre (to the detriment of the film, perhaps, with a lack of Buzz et al). But it’s because Woody is going through a major change, brought on by a major crisis. An existential crisis. With that and Forky, you can’t accuse Pixar of playing to the lowest common denominator and it’s no surprise the film came only a few years after the release of Inside Out.
Our sheriff doesn’t know what to do but, crucially, he has evolved enough as a character that his first instinct isn’t to try and reinstall his iron grip. He actually accepts that he has to move on, and here more than ever the main ideas come from outside agents as opposed to Woody himself. He has relinquished what little control he had, or thought he had, over Andy and moves out further into the mysterious unknown by relinquishing whatever influence he has over the toys he knows, and becoming what he feared way back in Toy Story.
Overall, it’s a subtle, phenomenal character arc that gives more as childhood viewing becomes (repeated) adult viewing. While the first instinct with Woody being featured in promotional material for Toy Story 5 is that of disappointment (all that hard work in Toy Story 4, ruined!), it’s worth giving Pixar more than one chance on this. So often they have created a concept that seems completely fantastical and yet human (these movies, Inside Out, Monsters Inc. and so on), allowing us to empathise with creatures that seem so alien at first glance. However Woody is returning (main character, side character, guest appearance where everyone claps), Pixar have the ability to pull this one out of the toy bag.
Matthew D. Smith likes to overshare his views on movies and TV shows whenever and wherever he can. Indulge him, and follow him on Twitter or listen to the podcast he co-hosts with Leslie Wai.
