
You’ve probably heard that Disney has announced a slew of planned sequels. Frozen 3, Zootopia 2, and, perhaps most disturbingly, a fifth Toy Story.
The saga’s collective millennial adoration, which apparently finished with the third installment in 2010 when Andy departed for college, was irreparably crystallised as Woody (Tom Hanks) muttered ‘So long, partner’ to his old pal.
By the mid-2010s, when some of us were entering our twenties, our unconditional love for the trilogy, an all-time classic, ran so deep that we felt an instinctual need to defend it.
It is ideal family watching and an emotional home. It is heartwarming, riotously amusing, and tragic. It includes treasured and formative memories that we dare not disrupt. We shall share them with our children and grandkids till the day we die.
That’s why I can still hear the distant ringing of the terror sirens that went out when Pixar revealed Toy Story 4 (TS4) in 2014.

Toy Story was a delicate, valued, and, most importantly, closed book by that point. Even touching the book again, let alone opening it, risked severely destroying it. The terror was also widespread, and it exemplifies how art is extra-textual, determined equally by what the audience receives and what the author puts in.
Sure, every generation of moviegoers has to put up with a slew of bad sequels, but TS4 was an army of Emperor Zurgs out to destroy our beloved little cosmos. The trilogy so precisely laid out its own destiny in conjunction with our own lives that each extension or addition felt as though it may shatter something precious.
But, to everyone’s amazement and delight, TS4 was, in a word, spectacular. I sobbed as I exited the theatre and immediately called my mother. ‘They actually did it,’ I said. Five years of anxiety were removed in 100 minutes.
I hold TS4 in such high regard because it had to work really hard to gain and maintain my trust. My favourite trilogy finally had the ideal finale, and I foolishly assumed there was no reason to return.
Woody and Buzz had said their goodbyes and faced the possibility that they may never see each other again. When Andy drove away from Woody in 2010, it seemed like a final farewell. But this time, this time, it had to be it.
However, Toy Story 5 was revealed earlier this week. When I read the headline, I expected to hear those 2014 fear bells again. But nothing moved.
Much if I didn’t realise it in 2019, my major concern about TS4 had been so thoroughly demolished by the film that I was gradually and gradually opened up to the potential of even more. Or maybe I just grew up a little.
This isn’t a position I’ve held for very long. Last year, I wrote extensively about why I was opposed to a Game of Thrones Jon Snow sequel. But I wish I could take it back.
Who am I to tell Kit Harington what he should do with a role he’s been playing for a decade? He took on the part as a young lad and will return to Jon as a father with two children. His adventures will have influenced the following chapter of Jon’s narrative.
Finally, the Toy Story quadrilogy reminds us that, while letting go of the physical is a tough but necessary part of the human experience, keeping the emotional makes it all worthwhile.
Woody realises that childhood is over and that he can’t protect Andy forever, just as he realises the great fact that Andy will never forget him.
Even if Toy Story 5 disappoints, the original trilogy, as well as its fantastic postscript, and our memories of all four films, remain. No, we don’t need a fifth entry, but neither do we need a fourth, third, or even second.
But excellent tales may come from anywhere, and Toy Story 5 could be one of them.