by Luke Durling
For my friend, Patrick.
I honestly don’t know what I would have done without Pixar. No hyperbole or exaggeration, I genuinely don’t know an aspect of my life Pixar has not influenced, inspired, or at the very least was a stepping stone for. My creative identity was entirely based on the animation studio throughout my childhood, high school, and even my college career. The first film I ever saw in theaters was Monsters Inc. The first character I was ever truly inspired by was Buzz Lightyear. Even my first poetry collection, Flipbook of Myself, was heavily influenced by my love of the desk lamp designers and dreamers. To say I am a fan of Pixar is the understatement of a lifetime.
So, as the milestone makers of my lifetime turns 40, why am I left with a slight trepidation in my mind about the constant source of inspiration and joy? Mainly, as all things age, they change. Pixar has changed, I’ve changed, the entire world has changed. While this is not the problem, seeing these changes can be uncomfortable. Much like watching a parent or guardian age, I cannot deny that watching Pixar in recent times has been a bit tough. The intention is there, yes, but in brutal honesty, Pixar is no longer the king of animation they were. It pains me to have to admit to myself, but Pixar seems to have become a beacon of nostalgia rather than the beacon of creativity it once was. That’s not even necessarily even a bad thing. I’m not too bold to admit that I eat up nostalgia for breakfast and dinner. However, when all you have at the moment is “remember when”, looking at the future can be quite murky.
There is always hope, nevertheless, and it’s found in the small places, The incredible SparkShorts have been a phenomenal success of modern Pixar that go criminally overlooked. The film Luca was an amazing visual and soulful piece that was really robbed by the pandemic, including it’s “controversial” predecessor Seeing Red who was not even a tenth as bad as the outrage it unfortunately received. Even Elemental was a great visual showcase for what Pixar is truly capable of. Don’t get me wrong, Inside Out 2 was great, Incredibles 2 was great. Toy Story 4 was…well, okay, and my heart will always long for that sequel to Monsters Inc we might never get. (Shoutout to the incredible Monsters At Work series for giving us a taste of what that could be like and doing an amazing job doing it.) However, the past is a perilous thing to play with because unless you find that razor-thin balance between new and old, the past will always be better in comparison. Toy Story 4 was lackluster because it tried too hard to hyperextend a story that, frankly, did not and does not need extended. My guilty pleasure Lightyear failed for the opposite reason. Lightyear was bad because it had so little to do with Toy Story it’s truly boggling they expected it to be in the same universe. Unless Pixar tries something different with different characters, it will be stuck in the nostalgia loop its parent company, Disney has been in for years now.
As I said before though, the hope is there. For a 40 year old studio that I have loved all 40 years of across my 28 years of life, I can wholeheartedly say that this love will never go away. The moments of beauty and joy cannot be taken away. Hearing The Incredibles for the first time, reveling in Michael Giacinno’s awesome tunes over the first soundtrack I’d ever buy. Seeing the incomparable chemistry between Mike and Sully as they ran and swang through a cavalcade of doors was awe inspiring, will always be. Seeing Buzz ump off the banister, trying to fly, falling instead, made me begin to understand my own feelings about playgrounds I couldn’t play on or my own inability, while also reaffirming my own worth, my resilience, my integrity. Weeping as Bing Bong faded away was a stark reminder of how I was growing up and how much these things I listed above and infinitely more had shaped me, guided me, in ways I never imagined. An infinity I never want to lose, but also an infinity I want to forever look beyond.
Here’s to you, Pixar. You’ll always have a friend in me,
Calm and Cultured 