Pete Docter’s prior films are permeated with sadness, hovering on the periphery and threatening to swallow the stories whole. On the surface, Monsters, Inc. is a mix of high-octane action and screwball farce in a fantastical universe; just below, it builds up and subsequently fractures a surrogate father-daughter relationship between the blue-furred Sulley and a toddler nicknamed Boo. Up is squarely about its protagonist battling with the overwhelming grief of the death of his true love; by the end, he moves on, but only after pushing himself to a breaking point.
Six years later, Docter has gone so far as turning sadness into a physically realized character in his new film, the delightful, savvy, and endlessly inventive Inside Out. Since Up and the titanic success of Toy Story 3, Pixar has offered a few stumbles, with the forgettable Cars 2 and the charming but disjointed Brave. (Monsters University remains better than you remember.) Inside Out is nothing less than a resounding rejoinder to anyone who doubted that the animation studio had fallen upon hard times creatively. This is Pixar at its finest.
What if, Inside Out asks, the emotions in your head were personified and had control over your actions? Though the film jumps into other people’s heads at times, the action mostly takes place inside the head of an 11-year old girl named Riley, focusing on the five emotions that drive her every day: Anger (Lewis Black), Disgust (Mindy Kaling), Fear (Bill Hader), Sadness (Phyllis Smith), and Joy (Amy Poehler), the leader of the bunch. As such, Riley is generally ebullient, but when she and her parents (Diane Lane and Kyle MacLachlan) move cross-country to San Francisco, she struggles to maintain the status quo. Though Joy tries to keep Riley happy, Sadness begins inadvertently turning previously peppy memories–visualized as glowing orbs–into depressing ones. Soon, these two squabble in the Headquarters of Riley’s mind, and accidentally wind up out in the vast expanse of the girl’s brain. To return, they have to walk through Riley’s long-term memory banks as well as the various “lands” created by her well of emotions, from Goofball Island to Honesty Island and so on.
For a film with such a–forgive the pun–heady concept, Inside Out often feels like a back-to-basics exercise in wit and intelligence, trafficking in the same observational (and extremely funny) humor that’s present in Toy Story and Monsters, Inc. What’s more, these characters are something of a throwback; the neurotic Rex of Toy Story is analogous to Fear, Mr. Potato Head connects to Anger, etc. Yet Inside Out is far from derivative or self-cannibalizing. Instead, it’s a savvy extension of previous explorations into the prickly human mind; films like WALL-E and Finding Nemo are slightly more oblique in presenting three-dimensional characters grappling with humanity. This is simply more direct (but no less successful).
One of the great surprises here is the absence of a true antagonist; Joy is as close as the story gets to a villain. Anyone familiar with Poehler’s excellent work as Leslie Knope on the recently departed “Parks and Recreation” will recognize Joy as a spiritual sister: her excitement at every aspect of life has the ability to become exhausting and overbearing after a short amount of time. But the way that Docter, co-director Ronnie del Carmen, and co-writers Meg LeFauve and Josh Cooley allow Joy to grow is truly remarkable; Poehler is unsurprisingly adept at the moments of deep emotion, but what’s notably impressive is a single shot near the end of the second act. Joy, at her lowest moment, grasps onto a few of the remaining happy memories she has at her disposal and realizes the folly of her actions. The close-up lasts a good 60 seconds; in a film so fleetly paced, it’s a wistful and sad eternity. It’s also a fine showcase for character animation that relies solely on facial movements, not dialogue or sound effects.
The other big surprise is Richard Kind, the nebbishy performer who’s provided his voice to other Pixar productions. Here, Kind plays Bing Bong, a character who wisely hasn’t been mentioned in the marketing. Kind’s deliberately nasally voice may not seem a natural fit with the colorful and loopy Bing Bong, but the character’s journey is enabled by his dexterous performance. If there is a flood of tears to be shed at this film (it’s Pixar, of course there is), it begins with Bing Bong. The rest of the cast is quite good–it might be easy to cast Lewis Black as the personification of anger, but if the shoe fits, why the hell not? The animation, though, is a high point; Riley’s mind is deliberately more eye-popping and gorgeous than the cloudy and drab San Francisco. Even the small details impress, such as how each emotion is essentially a ball of energy, with champagne-bubble-like dots of light at their edges.
From top to bottom, Inside Out is Pixar’s best film since Ratatouille, offering an excellent balance of humor and gut-wrenching emotion. Though a few gags land with less assurance than others–one depicts Riley’s parents’ minds with slightly predictable results–they’re quickly forgotten in place of a slew of top-tier set-pieces. (Joy and Sadness encountering an area of abstract thought is a highlight, inspired by Chuck Jones’ Duck Amuck.) The filmmakers’ insight into human emotion is not only why the film succeeds, but why Pixar succeeds so frequently. This film tries to be as universal as possible, identifying feelings that are not unique to one girl, but to all kids, and any adults willing to remember how they felt at a younger age. After 20 years of features, Pixar continues to aim high; Inside Out is another bulls’-eye shot.
Note. As is now customary for Pixar, Inside Out is preceded by a short film, called Lava. Lava depicts a lovelorn and lonely volcano in the middle of the ocean, singing out to the heavens in hopes of meeting its/his one true love. Though the short, directed and written by James Ford Murphy, is beautifully animated, the emotional aspect rings hollow. While a feature can earn tears, this short feels more like it wants the audience to, as if watching an old TGIF sitcom, say “Awwwwwww” in unison. Nice try, but a miss.