Some films entertain you for a couple of hours and then quietly fade away. Others actually grow up alongside you. For me the Toy Story franchise is firmly the latter.
I was ten years old when I first met Woody, Buzz and the gang. Over the last three decades, they’ve become more than just pixels on a screen; they’ve been a constant through childhood, adolescence and adulthood, somehow always arriving at just the right moment with exactly what I needed to hear about friendship, change and letting go.
Going into the pre-screening for Toy Story 5, I was honestly a bit nervous. Toy Story 3 felt like the perfect goodbye and Toy Story 4 managed to give Woody a beautiful new beginning. I couldn’t help but wonder if we really needed another trip to the toy box. Surprisingly, we do!
Instead of just coasting on nostalgia, the film tackles something anyone spending time with kids today knows all too well: the magnetic pull of screens. Bonnie is increasingly glued to her devices, leaving her toys facing the very real, very quiet threat of simply being ignored. It highlights the slow disappearance of the messy, imaginative play that used to be the cornerstone of growing up.
But the real beauty of the film is that it doesn’t just wag a finger at technology. It’s smarter and kinder than that. The new app-driven toys introduced aren’t painted as one-dimensional villains – they’re just the new reality. The film gently asks what we lose when digital convenience takes over from genuine, hands-on play. It’s still incredibly funny, packed with the sharp wit and visual gags that make these films a joy for everyone in the room.
I also loved that the film lets some other characters step into the light. Watching Jessie wrestle with the very real fear of becoming obsolete gives the story a massive amount of heart. It does get a tiny bit crowded at times – with so many old friends and new gadgets sharing the space, a few of our favourite side characters fade into the background – but it’s a minor issue.
It looks gorgeous, of course. The animation is breathtakingly detailed and warm. But all the stunning technical prowess in the world wouldn’t matter if the story didn’t make you feel something.
There are moments that hit you right in the feels. Not because the film is trying to manipulate your emotions but because we’ve loved these characters for thirty years. Their fears and hopes still mirror our own.
Is it the best Toy Story ever made? Probably not. The original trilogy is sacred ground. But what it does do is prove it deserves to be here. It looks honestly at how childhood is evolving, while holding onto the massive heart that made us fall for these toys in the first place.
Sitting there as the credits rolled, I realised I’ve spent more than half my life checking in on Woody and the gang. It’s incredibly comforting to know that, even now, they still have something beautiful to say.