"Toy Story 5" - I knew it!

Remember when you cried at the end of Toy Story 4 and thought it was a really good way to end the franchise? You were right - it was a really good way to end the franchise. The problem is the movie grossed over $1 billion dollars at the box office and no way was Disney going to pass up another potential billion-dollar Toy Story sequel. They've got kids to feed.

What you didn't realize while you were drying your eyes was that it was really only the end of Woody's (Tom Hanks) story. Not that they can't go right back to that well; there are plenty of lost toys for Woody and Bo Peep to help find owners for over the course of a future full-length animated feature. And Woody does play a supporting role in Toy Story 5. Let's not get ridiculous thinking they put him on the Toy Story 5 movie poster for no reason. But rest assured, Woody is not the main character in Toy Story 5.

Jessie (Joan Cusack) is the main character, now the leader of the toys owned by eight-year-old Bonnie. And everything is going well. The toys are being played with, Bonnie is being creative, and Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) is trying to work up the courage to propose to Jessie. I know - I forgot that last one was a thing, too, even though it goes all the way back to Toy Story 2. I blame the Lightyear movie for erasing that plotline from my brain.

Jessie's chief concern is finding a way for Bonnie to make friends. Bonnie is really shy and "plays different" than other kids. Bonnie's parents recognize Bonnie's struggles and decide the answer is to get her a Lilypad (tablet computer) so she can more easily connect with other kids. Jessie becomes alarmed when some discarded toys in a backyard tell her that screens will be the end of Jessie's play time. That night, Jessie notices a screen glowing in the bedroom window of every house she can see and resolves to prevent Lily the Lilypad (Greta Lee) from taking over the room.

At this point, the story follows a similar path as Inside Out 2. A girl is trying to fit in with others by doing things that aren't necessarily healthy, but definitely familiar to every one of us who still remembers childhood. It also provides all parents with a bit of affirmation by showing typical behavior from kids when on their screens/devices. Kids staying up all hours of the night, can't leave a room without the device, have to answer text messages immediately, nodding that they heard you when you asked them a question. I looked directly into my son's eyes during this sequence and he looked right back, but with mischief in his eyes. Oh, he heard me alright. He heard me every...single...time.

In addition to the perceived evils of screentime, the movie also tackles a fear that we all can relate to - a fear of being useless or forgotten. This existential crisis drives Jessie to do risky things and causes her to get lost and end up at another girl's (Blaze) house. There, Jessie meets some discarded toys that she looks down upon because those toys are in fact devices. Just like Lilypad. Dun-dun-dun.

As a parent and former child, I can relate to all this and that is the power of the Toy Story franchise. In a word, nostalgia. In fact, that's what Taylor Swift wrote about in the film's featured song "I Knew It, I Knew You" (it plays when the end credits roll). It's not just about looking back and being afraid of being forgotten. It's about looking back and realizing you mattered to someone and they mattered to you. And boy does this song threaten to make you cry if the movie doesn't do it first.

Suffice it to say the storytelling is, once again, top notch, and that's not all. As with the entire franchise, the film delivers a ton of laughs, some fun action scenes, and sprinkles in toys we all remember or currently trip on in the backyard. There's also a new feature in the film that adds a fun dimension to the storytelling. When Bonnie or Blaze is playing with their toys, the animation style changes to the kind favored by the Spider-verse films. It looks like it's still sketchy, but also manages to be have some real depth and color to it. It's a great compliment to the typical animation that Pixar is known for. And all of which adds up to a movie that will definitely keep Disney's kids fed.

Rating: Don't ask for any money back, but maybe a tissue or three.

“Greyhound” - Living room popcorn just isn’t the same.

Prior to the Covid-19 pandemic, Amazon and Netflix were making attempts to cut into the theater business with direct-release original movies on their streaming services. For the most part, those films consisted of two types of movies - award bait and toilet residue. Trying to compete with the medium and large budget theater releases was going very poorly for them. Then, Covid struck, theaters closed, and nearly all of those larger-budget movies were delayed. Suddenly, Amazon and Netflix were primed to make a real dent in the theater business model of movies. At the same time, other nascent streaming services went from the fringes to the spotlight, practically overnight. Apple, Hulu, and especially Disney were handed audiences desperate for new films. While it’s too early to predict how the different services will fare in this new model, it’s clear that the model is undergoing a fundamental change.

I have always believed that the only movies worth seeing in the theaters are comedies, horror flicks, and big, loud blockbusters. The first two genres are purely for audience reasons; they are much more fun to watch as a group than to watch alone. Laughter and scares are contagious. Doing either of those along with a hundred other people makes you feel like you are part of the group; that you are in on the experience. And, of course, blockbusters. Unless your name is Bezos or Gates, you do not have a home theater that can hold a candle to a real theater in the tech department. You want that giant picture and sound. You need that giant picture and sound. Michael Bay will make sure you get what you paid for.

Which is where a movie like Greyhound comes in. Greyhound is a World War II movie that immerses us in the harrowing journey of a convoy of supply ships trying to cross the Atlantic Ocean without being sunk by German submarines. Greyhound is the call sign of the U.S. Navy destroyer tasked with escorting and protecting the convoy (along with a Canadian corvette, Polish destroyer, and British destroyer). Captain Ernest Krause (Tom Hanks) commands Greyhound and the entire convoy. Like some recent WWII films (Fury, Dunkirk, Midway), the sole purpose of the movie is to put the viewer into the experience, in this case the bridge of a destroyer, with no fluff (looking at you Pearl Harbor). This is a movie meant to be seen on a sixty-foot screen and heard by astronauts on the space station.

The entire film takes place on the Greyhound, with occasional shots of other convoy ships, explosions, and submarines, always from the vantage point of the Greyhound. It is a beautifully shot film, capturing the dreariness of the North Atlantic, the horrors of naval warfare, and the tension of the crew wondering if the next attack will be their last. Tom Hanks is fantastic as Captain Krause, a commander on his first mission during the war. Krause is constantly on edge, calculating his next move, pondering his next order, always hoping not to make that fatal mistake that dooms them all. In fact, he is so anxious he barely sleeps or eats for the three days of the journey where they have no air cover and are constantly harassed and attacked by the Germans.

And the sound is as good as the visuals. Unlike many action flicks, most of the battle scenes dispense with the music to allow the audience to hear the sounds of the ship, the sounds of the ocean, and the sounds of battle. From the window wipers on the bridge to the ping of the radar to the groaning of steel straining against the waves, everything we hear maintains and even raises the tension throughout the film. When Krause winces at his bloody feet, we feel it with him. When the men suffer losses, we suffer with them.

Or, we would have if Greyhound was a movie we watched in theaters rather than from our couches, streaming exclusively on Apple TV Plus. While still an excellent movie to watch anywhere, much is lost in the downsizing to a TV measured in inches and a sound system that Marty McFly would scoff at.

The question now is will this be the new normal when we finally get past Covid? That is still several months away, giving people plenty of time to get accustomed to watching new movies from the convenience of their living rooms. Gigantic blockbusters are not going to go away, but are studios going to continue spending north of $200 million on a Godzilla shrunken down to size? And what about those comedies and horror movies that rely on the collective live experience and word-of-mouth popularity? Most importantly, who wants to subscribe to eighteen different streaming services, just to make sure they have access to all the new movies? I can live in a world where Amazon, Netflix, and Apple TV augment the movie industry, but not one where they are the movie industry.

Rating: While I try to figure out how to tweak my rating system for a theater-less world, pretend you did see this movie in theaters and don’t ask for any money back.