Warning: Spoilers Ahead for “Toy Story 5”
Have you ever pondered whether a Roomba possesses a soul or if action figures need sustenance? These whimsical queries arise when you delve deeply into the “Toy Story” films. Originally, the 1995 animated classic introduced us to the enchanting concept of toys coming to life to bring joy to their young owner. However, as the series expanded to five films, it inadvertently crafted a complex mythology. While it may seem peculiar to label “Toy Story” as a fantasy saga, by definition, that’s precisely what it has become.
The latest installment, “Toy Story 5,” not only offers plenty of entertainment but also introduces perplexing elements to the series’ established toy laws, particularly with electronic and battery-operated toys. Though Buzz Lightyear himself is a battery-powered marvel replete with lights and sounds, the new film complicates the necessity of such power sources for various toys. References to batteries have been sprinkled throughout the earlier films, yet this time, the significance of power supplies for toys becomes even more bewildering.
The fundamental question of what qualifies as a toy also resurfaces. “Toy Story 4” explored this concept with Forky, who remained mere debris until Bonnie transformed him into a beloved plaything by adding googly eyes. But does this rule apply universally? Does any object included in play gain sentience? Can something like a Roomba, for example, possess a soul?
Some truths about the nature of toys in “Toy Story 5” are undeniable. A toy gains consciousness even before it’s matched with a child. This is illustrated in the film’s opening sequence, where high-tech Buzz Lightyear figures wash up on an island. This concept isn’t new to the series; it also appeared in “Toy Story 2” during the Al’s Toy Barn scenes. Moreover, toys inherently conceal their awareness from humans. Even before the Buzz Lightyear figures comprehend their toy identity, they instinctively revert to “toy mode” when humans approach, responding afterwards as if it were an involuntary reflex.
Toy Story 5 complicates how toys work
Here are a few things that are absolutely true about how toys work in “Toy Story 5.” We know that a Toy awakens as a sentient being before they are paired with a child. This is shown with the high-tech Buzz Lightyear figures who wash up on an island at the beginning of the movie, and it’s been shown to be true elsewhere in the franchise, like in the Al’s Toy Barn scenes of “Toy Story 2.” We also know that toys have a natural instinct to preserve the secret of their sentience. Before the Buzzes even understand that they are toys, they naturally fall into “toy mode” when a human comes near, reacting afterward as if it were entirely involuntary.
At the same time, we know that toys can supersede this instinct. In the very first movie, Woody speaks to Syd directly, driving him into a panic. Is this hard to do? Does it require some sort of strong resolve to overpower the “toy mode” instinct? Unclear.
Then there’s the battery situation. “Toy Story” has long played with the premise of batteries as they pertain to a toy’s well-being, but “Toy Story 5” focuses on that aspect in particular. We see that toys with low batteries almost seem drunk, but their batteries dying don’t seem to do any permanent damage. But why do battery-powered toys need batteries to move around, yet regular toys don’t? Woody isn’t alive because he has some sort of electricity running through him. While it would make sense for Lilypad’s screen to stop working if she has no charge, it feels odd that she can’t move at all without power, while other toys with no batteries at all seemingly have endless energy.
Toy Story will never make sense, and that’s okay
Again, we ask: Does a Roomba have a soul? At the end of “Toy Story 5,” Bonnie and Blaze have a playtime session that involves the household Roomba, and afterward, Lilypad implies to Jessie that she is romantically interested in the rotund vacuum robot. It’s a joke, yes — but is the Roomba a toy? Children themselves aren’t the progenitors of a toy’s soul, as evidenced by their sentience pre-sale. Yet in Forky’s case, the intention of a child was the source of life.
As Jaya Saxana wrote for GQ in 2018, tackling this same scholarly topic, “The consciousness of a toy is a tautology — toys are alive, and they are alive because that’s what toys are.” Peer review has found this statement to be true, while the Roomba question remains the subject of academic discourse.
At this point, “Toy Story” seems like it’s intentionally winking at those of us too philosophically minded to ignore such quandaries. The films taunt us, flaunting contradictions even as they stir more debate about the truth of consciousness. Such is the nature of all true art, perhaps, batteries included or otherwise.