Pixar's Inside Out... (spoilers after big bolded warning)
10 years ago
I rarely, if ever, cry due to art --be it movies, books, music, what have you-- and it is something that I intensely dislike about myself: I've often felt that not only should I cry at certain moments, there have been many times where a big part of me wanted to cry, but couldn't. This is almost certainly a side-effect of my mental illness, and me lacking the social instincts that would normally guide such an emotional response. It's not that I don't feel sad: it's that I can't bring myself to express it. I wish I could --I think it would be very healthy for me-- but very few things have ever gotten me to break down and actually burst into tears. Only two movies have ever succeeded at this, and neither of them were Pixar ventures. Yes, this means I am that one guy who didn't cry during the opening montage of Up!, or during the reboot scene in WALL-E, or during the ending of Toy Story 3.
I am not proud of this: I'm just establishing context.
I mention all of this because as of this writing it has been a little over an hour since I've finished watching Inside Out, and I found myself having a few things to say about it. Really just one thing, frankly, but we'll get to that in a second. I'd just like to preface things first by making the following abundantly clear:
I immensely enjoyed the film, and it is definitely among the best movies in the Pixar canon (which is saying something). It is amazingly heartfelt, and more admirably still: it has an incredibly brave and incredibly important moral/theme that I've been looking to find in children's entertainment for a very long time now. This is very much a movie that I wish could have existed back when I was still a kid myself, but nonetheless I am immensely glad that the children of today and tomorrow get to experience it. It is quietly brilliant, in the best possible way.
Now, I mean every word of what I just said, and I would like everyone to remember that when reading the rest of this journal. If you haven't seen Inside Out yet, then 1) go see it as soon as you can, and 2) THERE WILL BE SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT!
I REPEAT: THERE WILL BE SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING OF INSIDE OUT FROM THIS POINT ONWARD!
While the rest of the movie was in my opinion overwhelmingly flawless, there was something about the ending that seemed slightly off to me at the time, and over the course of the past hour I think I've figured out what it was. It didn't ruin the ending by any means, nor even really prevent it from delivering an immensely satisfying emotional climax, but I think there was a missed opportunity that, to me, made the difference between this being "merely" a great movie with a very touching ending, and it becoming the third movie ever to make me cry.
The ending, of course, involves Joy finally letting Sadness take the wheel, as Riley tearfully reunites with her parents after very nearly running away from home. It is a truly powerful scene: the culmination of both Joy and Sadness their character arcs, and the moment where the film's denouement shines clearest. "Sadness is not wrong, nor is it malevolent. It is natural, and important, and above all: meaningful." It works magnificently, and I'd argue that everything in that scene between Riley and her parents is nothing short of perfect.
But I feel as though Sadness her contribution to the scene --here, during her only actual moment in the spotlight throughout the entire movie-- seems a little underwhelming. Of course there is a huge amount of significance just in her contributing at all: the mere fact that Joy finally lets her take the controls is the emotional crux of the entire movie. This is the whole reason why the climax of the film is a quiet, introspective character-moment and not some sweeping dramatic gesture: by stripping away any colorful distractions, the filmmakers effectively force us to appreciate the characters their decisions rather than their actions. The scene, as written, works very well within the theme of the film and the arcs of the characters.
But writing and staging are two different things, and the visual language of the scene can't quite articulate that all-important significance that the writers so desperately want to convey. Sadness saves the day by unscrewing the idea-lightbulb that made Riley run away, and pressing two buttons on the control console. From there the scene mostly focuses on Riley's family, a few reaction-shots from the other emotions, and the Core Memories. It works, but the result is that Sadness her big moment is also a very short moment, wherein she herself has very little screentime and her involvement ends just a little too quickly to be memorable in and of itself.
I think the movie would have benefited greatly if it had extended this scene by just a single extra shot; if Sadness had stayed at the console just a little longer, pushing a few extra buttons and pulling some levers as needed; if her actions had been exactly as simple and un-flashy, but we got to watch them and her just a little bit longer.
I want you to imagine Joy in that scene: imagine the look on her face after Sadness pressed that first button, as music plays in the background. The music isn't sweeping or bombastic: instead it is a humble, simple melody on the piano (you know the one).
And as that piano plays we cut to a shot with the camera down on the floor behind Sadness: she has her back turned to us and is looking up at the view-screen, casually flipping a few switches on the now-blue console. There is no drama, no fanfare; just by doing what she does --by being who she is-- Sadness is saving the day and reuniting Riley with her family.
...
The moment that image sprung into my head I knew it was what I'd been missing in the movie proper, and as far as I'm concerned that's how the scene plays out now whenever I remember it. You're free to disagree of course, but for me, that one extra shot is what finally allowed me to cry at a movie where I desperately wanted to.
- Seskra.
I am not proud of this: I'm just establishing context.
I mention all of this because as of this writing it has been a little over an hour since I've finished watching Inside Out, and I found myself having a few things to say about it. Really just one thing, frankly, but we'll get to that in a second. I'd just like to preface things first by making the following abundantly clear:
I immensely enjoyed the film, and it is definitely among the best movies in the Pixar canon (which is saying something). It is amazingly heartfelt, and more admirably still: it has an incredibly brave and incredibly important moral/theme that I've been looking to find in children's entertainment for a very long time now. This is very much a movie that I wish could have existed back when I was still a kid myself, but nonetheless I am immensely glad that the children of today and tomorrow get to experience it. It is quietly brilliant, in the best possible way.
Now, I mean every word of what I just said, and I would like everyone to remember that when reading the rest of this journal. If you haven't seen Inside Out yet, then 1) go see it as soon as you can, and 2) THERE WILL BE SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT!
I REPEAT: THERE WILL BE SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING OF INSIDE OUT FROM THIS POINT ONWARD!
While the rest of the movie was in my opinion overwhelmingly flawless, there was something about the ending that seemed slightly off to me at the time, and over the course of the past hour I think I've figured out what it was. It didn't ruin the ending by any means, nor even really prevent it from delivering an immensely satisfying emotional climax, but I think there was a missed opportunity that, to me, made the difference between this being "merely" a great movie with a very touching ending, and it becoming the third movie ever to make me cry.
The ending, of course, involves Joy finally letting Sadness take the wheel, as Riley tearfully reunites with her parents after very nearly running away from home. It is a truly powerful scene: the culmination of both Joy and Sadness their character arcs, and the moment where the film's denouement shines clearest. "Sadness is not wrong, nor is it malevolent. It is natural, and important, and above all: meaningful." It works magnificently, and I'd argue that everything in that scene between Riley and her parents is nothing short of perfect.
But I feel as though Sadness her contribution to the scene --here, during her only actual moment in the spotlight throughout the entire movie-- seems a little underwhelming. Of course there is a huge amount of significance just in her contributing at all: the mere fact that Joy finally lets her take the controls is the emotional crux of the entire movie. This is the whole reason why the climax of the film is a quiet, introspective character-moment and not some sweeping dramatic gesture: by stripping away any colorful distractions, the filmmakers effectively force us to appreciate the characters their decisions rather than their actions. The scene, as written, works very well within the theme of the film and the arcs of the characters.
But writing and staging are two different things, and the visual language of the scene can't quite articulate that all-important significance that the writers so desperately want to convey. Sadness saves the day by unscrewing the idea-lightbulb that made Riley run away, and pressing two buttons on the control console. From there the scene mostly focuses on Riley's family, a few reaction-shots from the other emotions, and the Core Memories. It works, but the result is that Sadness her big moment is also a very short moment, wherein she herself has very little screentime and her involvement ends just a little too quickly to be memorable in and of itself.
I think the movie would have benefited greatly if it had extended this scene by just a single extra shot; if Sadness had stayed at the console just a little longer, pushing a few extra buttons and pulling some levers as needed; if her actions had been exactly as simple and un-flashy, but we got to watch them and her just a little bit longer.
I want you to imagine Joy in that scene: imagine the look on her face after Sadness pressed that first button, as music plays in the background. The music isn't sweeping or bombastic: instead it is a humble, simple melody on the piano (you know the one).
And as that piano plays we cut to a shot with the camera down on the floor behind Sadness: she has her back turned to us and is looking up at the view-screen, casually flipping a few switches on the now-blue console. There is no drama, no fanfare; just by doing what she does --by being who she is-- Sadness is saving the day and reuniting Riley with her family.
...
The moment that image sprung into my head I knew it was what I'd been missing in the movie proper, and as far as I'm concerned that's how the scene plays out now whenever I remember it. You're free to disagree of course, but for me, that one extra shot is what finally allowed me to cry at a movie where I desperately wanted to.
- Seskra.
part of me wants very much to disagree with you, because I do feel that, subtly, they did make it perfect. after all, Sadness is that shy, humble, quiet, and sensitive emotion. she mostly just listens. she pays attention. and she has taken such a back seat all this time, being pushed away by the others (especially by Joy), who want to make sure Riley is happy, and safe, and never disappointed.
I think the significance of Sadness having such a light, gentle, fleeting touch, and for that to be all that's needed and for it to be ok and necessary at times like that scene, are exactly what the film was trying to portray, and they succeeded at that.
but then I also note how very carefully you phrased what you mean. that it doesn't have to be dramatic, it doesn't have to be loud or bombastic, it doesn't even need to be all that long. it can be just that extra few seconds of frame time for her to be in the spotlight. and in a way, I can definitely see that working, too.
so, I don't think you're wrong, but I also am not sure that it's necessary. I almost feel like this better captures who Sadness is, and what she's about. it all comes so simply to her. just like with Bing-Bong at the cliff. all she had to do was sit there and listen and let Bing-Bong cry about it for a second.
that's Sadness' gift; that's her skill. she doesn't need to do much. she just needs to be there and pay attention. and things get better once Riley is able to just let herself feel sad for a bit. she recovers. Sadness is healing, in a way. it's like the grieving process.
I'm glad to hear that options are being figured out. :) anything you can do to delay getting prosthetics is a boon in my book.