Thursday, July 1, 2010

Toy Story 3: A Conspiracy

The Inciting Incident:

I watched Toy Story 3 last night. Some might call it fiction. Some might say the screenplay was written by this Michael Arndt guy, who has allegedly written such things as "Little Miss Sunshine", but hear me out: all is not as it appears to be.

Prior Cases:

I haven't even told you what the conspiracy is, and already you want proof? Okay. Here's proof:

Right. I couldn't find the scene that *actually* provides the theory , but if you watch the episode of Angel (and you should most definitely watch it), you'll see that toys -- and people -- aren't always what they appear to be.

Don't worry. I won't turn this into a "... and that's why Joss Whedon is a genius!" sermon. I'll just mention that he was one of the writers of the original Toy Story as well as that he is unequivocally brilliant and let you draw your own conclusions.

Anyway, I'm not entirely sure how Joss Whedon hijacked this blog, because this is a serious post. This isn't just about "toys". This is a serious blog of conspiracy.

Now I'm not generally a believer of conspiracy theories. But this one -- and yes, maybe it's because I just invented it -- strikes me as completely, undeniably logical and true.

The Conspiracy:

I'm just going to go right out and say it. Toy Story 3 was written by toys under the guise of being created by a human in order to prove their influence.

Think about it. Most, if not all, of us have had toys in our youths. I suspect many of us have kept some of these toys. They're in our boxes, in our closets, on our shelves, forgotten and ignored. Toy Story 3 makes us remember them and the stories of our childhoods that accompany them -- this movie will make us bring them out. Who, I ask you, benefits from this? The toys.

The Toys: An Inside Job

Allow me to introduce you to Lambie.
I've had Lambie for as long as I can remember, and then some. I've had Lambie for so long, and got him when I was so little, that I don't think I ever had to wrangle with the decision of whether to spell his name an "ie" or a "y". This toy has stuck with me for longer than most of my family. He's, uh, lived in five cities and been through more moves than that. So, however it's spelled, I love you, Lambie, not-so-fluffy fur, half-worn pink nose, and all. Even if you are part of the conspiracy.

The Barbie in Toy Story 3 made me remember my first two Barbies. While I have no accompanying photo and their names escape me, their story does not. They were sisters, and in that tragic way of things, one was Good and the other was Evil. They shared an affinity for mountain climbing, where kitchen cabinets equal mountains. The Evil Sister always tried to kill the Good Sister, but inevitably endangered her own life in the course of things. And while she hung precariously from a curiously knob-like part of a mountain, the Good Sister would risk life and limb to rescue her. Of course, it was only a matter of time before the Evil Sister would once again betray the Good one, but such is the eternal struggle. One thing they'd finally agree on? Yes. That's right. Toy Story 3 and this toy conspiracy.

This doll is named Deanna. Here's the story of how I came to be acquainted with her. I was maybe 10ish. My grandparents had promised to buy me a doll, and they took me to this small store. There was something mystic about it. I felt it from the moment I stepped inside, and the door closed behind me, the bell on the door eerily jingling its alert. Shelves lined every wall, from floor to ceiling, and there were dolls on every one, even behind the counter.

And all these dolls save one were evil.

EVIL, I tell you.

The lady working at the counter seemed nice at first. She asked me which doll I liked best. Without hesitation, I pointed to Deanna. I was sure she wanted me to rescue her from this hellish prison where she was trapped by the evil dolls. The lady cooed, "Oooh, good choice!".

Her hand moved towards Deanna, but at the last moment she started to pull one of the evil ones from the shelf instead.

"Noooo!" I said, in horror,"Not that one!"

She laughed, but I'm sure it was out of nerves. I had discovered the truth about her little "store".
Deanna was more expensive than the one the lady had tried to turn loose onto me, but my grandparents bought her for me anyway. (And then the lady tried to put her in a box! Egad! Hadn't she been through enough already?!)

Anyway, Deanna's totally involved in the conspiracy. And if she has a part to play, we are safe from no toy.

Except this guy. He's a Mountie. And a oh-so-Canadian beaver. He's pretty much just in this blog because it was Canada Day yesterday. You don't have to worry about him being up to anything. Despite those too-white teeth, I'm pretty sure he's not part of the conspiracy. Mostly because I hate when police are brought into conspiracy theories, and this evidentally extends to police of the inanimate stuffed animal variety. Yet, note the angle of the picture, and what could only be a jail cell behind him. Truly, he's a noble officer.

It's the horse you've got to look out for. The horse has total Crazy Eye.

In fact, I can't help but wonder if he's related to Bad Horse.

Yes, that's another Joss Whedon mention. Go watch Dr. Horrible Sing-Along Blog if you don't know what I'm talking about.

Conspiracy's Conclusions:
I could tell you more stories. I could tell you about the Balloon Man Toy who used the slightest gust of errant wind from a vent or window to wander the apartment, gathering intel. I could discuss Lambie's sheep companion, Blackie, who had softest velvet paws imaginable. Or the lionness and her cub that stood guard in my room for many a year. But I won't.

I think I've proved my point that Michael Arndt was merely a human figurehead for the toy-written Toy Story 3, that this was a movie created by toys for toys, in order to make us laugh, cry, write a blog, take long-unplayed-with toys out of the closet to take pictures of them for said blog, to take our toys, be it from shelves or memory, and remember what they meant to us once upon a time.

And, so, I beg of you: Never underestimate the toys. They get in with you when you're young and vulnerable and set up shop in your heart. Then, years later, no matter where they end up, all it takes is a fantastic movie for you to realize the truth of the matter: they've got you for life.

If you don't believe me, go watch Toy Story 3. After all, conspiracy theories usually aren't true...


  1. Mwahahahah! Brilliant, Natalia.

  2. My toys were taken from me and sent to the philippines.

    I'm still not fully recovered

  3. There's an award for you over at my blog. Love the mountie pix, by the way.