A review of Toy Story 5 that no-one asked for.

I'll say it now, and I will die on this hill: Toy Story 3 was, and to this day, still remains the perfect ending to the whole franchise.

You can come at me. I will not change my mind.

It’s the way Andy honours each toy by introducing them one by one to Bonnie. He has one last play with them all together, and then comes that moment when Bonnie uses Woody's arm to wave goodbye to Andy, and the EXPRESSION ON HIS COMPUTER-GENERATED FACE IS IMPECCABLE. Honestly, the sheer craft of the animation is chef's kiss in that moment.

Also, as a film franchise, a trilogy? Lovely. First film: iconic, sets the blueprint. Second: somehow even better than the first, although completely incomparable because the first is... well... the first. Third: unexpectedly brilliant, if a little off-piste.

I will say, though, I'm grateful for the reincarnation of Bo Peep in the fourth film because she is bad ass, cool, funny and lush, and my own son's lockdown obsession with Duke Caboom does make Toy Story 4 special in our house. But overall? I could take or leave it. Forky does A LOT of the heavy lifting, like cucumber does in my house when the rest of dinner is beige, and I admit I did appreciate that, after everything Woody had done for play and protecting childhood... what an advocate, am I right? I loved that he was able to choose a different journey at the end, away from the safety and comfort he’s always known. Beautiful story undertones.

But if you'd asked me whether we needed a fifth film, I'd have definitely said no. So, naturally, I wasn't convinced we needed another one. But then I took my children to see it, and I watched it through parent eyes and here I am writing about it.

Walking down to the cinema, my daughter, six years old, arms full of Woody, Jessie and Bullseye. My son, ten, somewhere in that strange pre-pubescent tug of war between wanting to be little and wanting to be grown up. One minute he's happily playing with his sister; the next he's walking to the shops with his mates, dishing out "auras", banter and legit "bruhs", and all the other new Gen Alpha language I've barely got a grip on, so naturally he was in two minds about going to see a film about toys. Bit sketchy bruh.

Me, born in 1987, I grew up with Toy Story. I laughed at all those memes before this film came out that said, "I was Andy in Toy Story... now I'm Andy's mum." Painfully accurate, and before seeing the film, I'd heard the obvious."It's about tablets." Spoiler, it’s not and it is, but don’t let that define it for you, for me, the heart of the story wasn't Jessie trying to defeat technology it was Jessie trying to find Bonnie a friend. A real friend. A real life human friend. Someone who would understand her. Someone equally silly, imaginative and creative. Someone who would build worlds, tell stories and invent adventures alongside her.

So rather than being anti-technology, it felt profoundly pro-childhood.

Oooof.

Pro-childhood, the kind where kids are bored, kids move, and enjoy moving, kids make mistakes, take risks, think creatively and say ridiculous things.

And those things do not happen on a tablet or a screen.

Yes, there is so much that technology can give us, and I know for some children they are the a lifeline in connecting with the world and people and I know their are so many incredible apps and creative digital innovation and all that. I know. I genuinely do. I work in graphic design. But... it’s just not the same. As I sat there watching Toy Story 5, I realised what had upset me wasn't really the technology. It was the reminder that childhood only happens once. Through my work, I spend a lot of time thinking about children's development, and one thing has become increasingly obvious to me: childhood isn't simply something we pass through. It's something we physically grow through, and I see the effects when opportunities for real play become fewer. Children aren't just missing games, many are missing the chance to properly discover what their bodies can do and who they are.

And crucially, there are certain things technology will never, and simply can't replace.

Wonder, friendship, imagination, that VITAL fore mentioned boredom that forces children to invent something because there's nothing else to do, (that age when they start inventing jokes though, now that is a tough phase I know, but we all gotta go through it and give the best most heartfelt fake laugh we can).

Those things have, and always will, live in play.

So I'm sat there watching it, completely overwhelmed by the feeling that childhood really, really does need protecting. Which is slightly ironic when it's a group of computer-generated toys, in a computer-animated film, on a massive cinema screen, convincing me that we all need to spend a bit more time in the real world. But that's art, baby and good art, regardless of the medium, can remind us what it means to be human.

Then there was one scene that completely undid me. Both my children immediately shot me the look over their popcorn because they knew, with absolute certainty, I was about to blub.

(Yes, I appreciate I'm writing a review of a cartoon... but shock horror, I cried.)

Bonnie changes her mind about taking Jessie and Bullseye back because her group chat laughs at the fact she still plays with toys.

And she's eight, she is eight, SHE IS 8.

As parents, we spend years trying to build secure, kind, confident little humans, we trust our instincts and love so hard with incredible hope that it’s enough, we’re enough. We encourage them to be brave. We tell them to be themselves.

But eventually they walk into a world with opinions we can't control. And perhaps that's the hardest part of parenting (LOL, jokes... it's all bloody hard.) But maybe it isn't the scraped knees that cause the greys, maybe it isn't even the sleepless nights, (LOL again, jokes it is the sleepless nights because omg that phase is crap).

But actually and seriously, maybe it's watching your child slowly realise that fitting in sometimes feels safer than being themselves.

Gut punch. Please tell me you're on the verge of tears here too? No? Still just me?

The day before seeing the film, I had taken my own children to the pump track with friends or at least that was the plan. A few laps of the track quickly became, "Let's go and throw stones in the river." So I carried two bikes and a scooter while they ran ahead, and by the time I'd started looking for good rocks (not rubbish ones, obviously), they were all in their pants, swimming in the river, pretending to catch fish, throwing stones, and holding hands to cross the water because one had Crocs and the other didn't, and the rocks really hurt my feet mum, didn’t you think to bring my Crocs?

To the pump track, no, no I didn’t babes.

Soaking wet, they didn't care there was no towel, and why the hell would they? They just dried off in the sun while biking to the next stop, which happened to be the leisure centre for an ice lolly. The fourth one of the day and no, they genuinely don't understand why that's apparently not a brilliant life choice because in a kids world, lollies are refreshing, they cool you down, they're delicious…. I mean, it makes sense to me, and I guess that's childhood. Messy. Completely pointless at times. But always joyful when you're entirely immersed in the moment.

And I found myself thinking how desperately I want them to have more of that before the world, and even I, start asking them to grow up.

Play is how children discover themselves.

End of.

Play isn't just entertainment. It's how children learn what they're capable of. Every den they build, every tree they climb, every argument they navigate and every ridiculous game they invent is quietly shaping the person they're becoming.

And yes, movement is a huge part of that, shocker I’m on about moving again.

When children roll down hills, balance on logs, hang upside down, swing, jump puddles and judge whether they can make it from one rock to another, they aren't "just playing". They're developing the physical systems that underpin learning, confidence, emotional regulation and resilience. They're learning where their bodies end and the world begins. They're discovering what they're capable of.

The body, our first home, learns first. The brain follows.

Play is a word we use all the time, but I'm not convinced we value it nearly enough. Not organised activities, not workshops, not structured entertainment, even though I love all these things, but here I’m talking real play.

The kind of play where nobody really knows what's going to happen next or even what’s happening.

Children have the rest of their lives to grow up. What they don't have forever is the ability to believe with the wholehearted conviction that only a child can. If there was ever a rally cry to protect childhood, this film quietly makes it.

Never let anything replace the things that make childhood magical in the first place.

P.S. Pixar... we need to talk about Woody.

Yes, I loved Jessie. I loved exploring more of her story, her backstory, and having her lead Toy Story 5. Epic.

BUT... What the hell did you do to Woody?

Woody spent four films being arguably the bravest, most loyal and capable toy in cinema history. He survived Sid, Al's Toy Barn, Sunnyside, and literally chose an entirely new life in Toy Story 4. He was so inspired by how brave, strong and — let's face it — cool Bo Peep was that he left everything behind to fight the good fight alongside her.

So why, after all that, has my cowboy suddenly forgotten how to ride?

(The unicorn scene!? What the?)

And the bald jokes? The fat jokes?

Not cool.

You don't elevate your female characters by sacrificing your male ones.

Justice for Woody.