STORYTELLER

Every summer when my great neph Bo comes for a visit, we go to the city to see the movie of his choice. His absolute worst pick of the past has been Lava Boy and Shark Girl…or was it Shark Boy and Lava Girl? I’m not sure which, but it was a bomb of nuclear proportions. His best selection was last summer’s stupendously hilarious The Hangover. Last week during his visit with dear old great auntie, he picked the critically acclaimed Toy Story 3.

Now, I’ve never seen the first two Toy Story movies, but I’ve read enough Entertainment Weekly magazines to know there’s a beloved cowboy doll--Tex, or Rex, or Woody, or whatever, and a dashing toy astronaut, Buzz, so I was prepared to enjoy a cute little comedy. But, YIKES!!! Toy Story 3 is downright scary!

The toys end up at the Day Care Center from Hell!!! By day, they get abused by little brats and then at night they are tortured by the other toys, EVIL toys that act sort of friendly at first but then they turn on the newcomers. They imprison them!! Mr. Potato Head, parts of his starchy face removed, is locked in a cat litter pan!! Ken ties up Barbie!! A seemingly innocent, floppy-eyed baby doll turns menacing. It’s terrible!! And when the toys finally escape, they are taken by a dump truck to be busted up and burned. Oh, the horror!! I could barely watch.

Well, all’s well that end’s well, sort of. The toys get reunited with their owner Andy, who is off to college, and there’s a sentimental finale, which I won’t ruin for you since I’ve ruined enough already.

I give Toy Story 3 three stars out of four. The animation is cool, but it’s not the slap-happy comedy I was hoping to see. It should be re-named Toy Nightmare… or Nightmare on Toy Street… or Psycho Toys… or Screaming Toys 3... or Fiends of Chucky... or Night of the Living Toys, or, well, you get the idea.