Toy Story 5 (2026)

The original Toy Story holds a special place in my movie history.

As far as I can remember, it was the very first movie I ever saw in a theater. I don’t remember much about the actual experience, although for some reason I have this vague memory of being scared by parts of it, which feels especially funny now considering my current movie preferences. These days I’m usually asking for the most disturbing horror movie someone can recommend, yet apparently little animated toys once had me questioning my life choices.

Fast forward thirty years, and here we are with Toy Story 5.

Before heading to the theater, I realized I had somehow never gotten around to watching Toy Story 4. That felt like an oversight that needed correcting, so I finally caught up beforehand. Unsurprisingly, it was every bit as charming as people said it was, and it made jumping into the newest installment feel much more rewarding.

One thing I’ve always appreciated about this franchise is that it has managed to grow alongside its audience.

Most animated franchises eventually reach a point where they’re simply repeating themselves. The characters return, another adventure happens, everyone learns a familiar lesson, and life goes back to normal. Toy Story has consistently avoided that trap by finding themes that feel relevant to the generation watching while still preserving the heart of what made the original films so memorable.

This time, the story explores something that’s incredibly relevant to families today: technology and the changing nature of childhood play.

It’s a topic that could have easily become heavy handed or preachy. Instead, the movie approaches it with a surprising amount of nuance. Rather than arguing that technology is inherently bad, it acknowledges why parents sometimes lean on it. The parents in the film aren’t portrayed as villains. They’re tired, overwhelmed, and trying to make it through the day, something that probably feels familiar to plenty of families watching.

The movie explores what happens when screens begin replacing the kinds of imaginative play and real world connections that children naturally develop through toys, friendships, and exploration. Watching that unfold felt surprisingly thoughtful for a movie featuring talking toys.

At the center of the story is a young girl who gradually learns that the relationships she builds through genuine connection are ultimately far more meaningful than the instant gratification offered by technology. That’s not really a spoiler because it’s woven into the heart of the movie from the very beginning, but I appreciated how naturally the lesson develops.

The toys themselves still have plenty going on, and that’s where the movie delivers exactly what longtime fans would hope for. One concern I always have with legacy sequels is whether they’ll sideline the characters everyone actually came to see in favor of introducing an entirely new cast.

I’ll admit I’ve become a little protective of the original toys over the years.

Every time another sequel introduces more characters, there’s a small part of me that immediately becomes skeptical. It probably makes me sound like someone yelling, “Back in my day…” but I always worry that Buzz, Woody, and the rest of the gang will slowly disappear into the background.

The newer characters fit surprisingly well alongside the originals, and the balance feels much stronger than I expected. Rather than replacing the classic cast, they complement them, giving the story fresh personalities while still allowing longtime favorites plenty of meaningful moments.

Another pleasant surprise was that the movie isn’t afraid to get a little creepy.

Nothing that’s going to traumatize children, of course, but there are a few moments with that classic Pixar ability to make everyday objects feel just unsettling enough to keep things interesting. It’s the kind of playful suspense the series has always done well, reminding you that even family movies can have moments of genuine tension without ever becoming frightening.

Those scenes ended up being some of my favorites.

It’s easy to imagine a version of Toy Story 5 that simply relies on nostalgia, bringing everyone back together for one more adventure because audiences already love these characters. Instead, the film actually has something to say. It recognizes that childhood today looks different than it did when Andy first introduced us to Woody and Buzz, and it explores those changes with empathy rather than judgment.

Will Toy Story 5 surpass the original?

For me, no.

The first film will probably always occupy a unique place in both animation history and my own memories. But that’s an incredibly high bar to clear, and I don’t think every sequel needs to outperform the original to justify its existence.

It’s funny, heartfelt, surprisingly timely, and another reminder of why Pixar has remained one of the most consistently reliable animation studios for so many years.

If you have kids, this is an easy recommendation.

If you grew up with Woody, Buzz, and the rest of the gang, I think you’ll find plenty to enjoy here as well. Beneath the laughs and adventure is a thoughtful story about friendship, growing up, and remembering that the best connections are usually the ones that happen when we look up instead of down at a screen.

Not bad for a movie about toys.