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July 4, 2010

When You Meet Bonnie

A Reflection on Toy Story 3’s Message on Moving On

Author’s Note: RIFE WITH SPOILERS.

I just saw Toy Story 3 for the first time this afternoon. Yes, quite behind from the rest of the pack, and my only regret is that I hadn’t seen it sooner. My sobbing friend right beside me in the cinemas (hi Abbey) and the lump on my throat for the better part of the final scenes of the movie attest to it. If I had been watching it on my own I probably would’ve bawled my eyes out as well.

I remember my old English teacher telling me back in high school: when you watch something, be it a film or a play or whatever, you can tell if it’s good if it can do either one of two things: stun you, or move you. Personally I’ve had more preference for the moving variant of a movie being great, and Toy Story 3 more than fulfilled that. Plus, there has to be something special about anything that will make you think at great length once it’s left its dent on you. My friends who watched with me this afternoon will testify that I spent quite a length of the time post-movie just staring into empty space and reflecting deeply. Not to mention the fact that it made me write something like this in the first place.

Those of you who’ve seen the movie will agree that the final scene is the one that starts the waterworks (and as for those of you who haven’t seen it, I implore you to stop reading this. I want you to enjoy the movie for all it’s worth). What I discovered, amidst my own teary eyes and lumped-up throat, was that this was not just any other melodramatic goodbye, but was in fact a very profound and valuable lesson on moving on.

I saw two facets of moving on in the film, which is basically putting yourself in the shoes of the two characters who needed to part ways: Woody and Andy. As such I will respectively call the two facets the Woody Thesis and the Andy Thesis. These two are probably not the only “theses” of moving on, but they are nonetheless quite applicable in life. I’ve tried superimposing the situations myself and I do think they make decent, even profound, sense. I’ve done my fair share of thinking about them, but I’ll try to flesh them out further as I write.

Onto the first one then, Woody’s. Put yourself in Woody’s shoes. Or boots. Woody has always been Andy’s favorite toy for as long as anyone can remember, Andy included. At the same time however, Woody has grown immensely attached to his fellow toys as well. This can clearly be seen in the brief yet poetic etch of pain on Woody’s face when Bo Peep was mentioned to have been sold in a yard sale prior to the events of Toy Story 3. The fact that Woody is Andy’s favorite cannot be discounted from the fact that Woody loves his friends.

Which leads us to his dilemma when faced with the situation that he has to spend time apart from these friends of his when came the time that Andy would take him to college. Possibly discomforted by the thought of his friends being stuck in the attic with nobody to play with them and love them, Woody selflessly thought it would be better for them to be given to Bonnie, a little girl whom Woody must’ve thought would love and care for them. Not to mention these were the friends who just moments earlier in the film were just about ready to face their doom in the landfill incinerators together. You know how bonds are formed when they hardships are faced together: the bonds formed are somehow directly proportional to the hardships faced.

I don’t know what spurred Woody to put himself in the box for giving away as well however, but he did. Much to Andy’s surprise, he finds Woody at the bottom of the box. Just like Andy said, Woody was always there for him, and that he never gave up on Andy. His was a commitment so impassioned that even Andy felt it. Which leads us to the main conflict of the Woody Thesis: does he stand by his commitment to Andy, for whom he has already devoted so much of his life to, or does he stay with his friends to a new owner whom he knows will take good care of them?

Which leads us to the Andy Thesis. It isn’t immediately obvious, however towards the latter part of the film you realize that there is genuine good in Andy. The love that he has for his toys is near-palpable, particularly for his favorite, Woody. He decides to bring him to college, and gets genuinely distraught when he finds Woody and the rest of his toys missing in the middle of the film.

The tension mostly arises when Andy surprisingly finds Woody at the bottom of the box. He was already set on bringing Woody with him to college, but what Woody would do there in the first place was quite unclear anyway. Do you think Woody would enjoy just sitting there by the shelf on top of the general physics book? Or would Andy’s future roommate exactly find it in him to befriend an 18-year old college student who brought a cowboy doll and still played pew-pew with it?

In any case, I’m sure Woody wouldn’t have minded just sitting in display. Woody was really just devoted that way. Besides, Andy had already made up his mind to bring Woody anyway. Which is why Andy is sadly surprised when he finds Woody at the bottom of the pile and that Bonnie knows of Woody.

The main conflict of the Andy Thesis is a lot more straightforward, simpler, but is not any easier. It is either to bring Woody to college with him and allow Woody to be loyal to him, or allow Woody to be what is truly natural with him: a toy being played with by a loving and caring owner. Would he bring Woody and keep him stagnant, or allow Woody to go to another owner whom he knew was where Woody would be happy?

We all know what happens and what decisions the Andy and the Woody theses made in the movie (if you haven’t seen the movie and are this far into my analysis, then wth. Stop reading okay?). It was clearly seen that both decisions bore hard into both the characters who had to make them. Nonetheless, they both made the decisions and stood by them.

We need to make these decisions in our own lives as well. We can only learn from the bravery of Andy and Woody who made their own decisions, and pray that we be blessed with that same kind of bravery to face and swallow the situation that needs facing.

Life is never constant. It is impermanent, ephemeral, fleeting and always, always changing. It may seem inconvenient, but therein lies the true treasure and true value of life: that it is of finite supply. Just like gold is precious, or oil is precious, because you only have so many years or months or days or seconds, makes life that much precious.

I remember a sad and yet profoundly true quote shared with us by our high school Filipino teacher once: “we laugh with our friends now as consolation for ourselves to the fact that one day, these friendships will end.” All relationships end, at least on this mortal plane. Twisting that Harvey Dent quote around a little bit, it’s basically saying you either die or live long enough to see your friendship deteriorate. I’m sure I’m not alone in having a friend who we used to high five so enthusiastically but now is someone to whom we so deftly whip out our cellphones so that we may have an excuse to ignore them when we meet them along hallways. It’s one of the saddest realities of life. We do what we can to make these relationships worthwhile, yet when faced with the unfortunate crossroads where parting seems to be the best, or even only option, what exactly would you do?

Put yourself in Woody’s shoes, or in Andy’s shoes, whatever applies to you more. And be brave, just as Woody and Andy were brave. And then, ask yourself the question: what would you do when you meet Bonnie?