Note: To discuss the themes of Cars 3 and look at how they affected me, I have to talk about the end of the movie. In that sense, I'm spoiling the film...or, at least, the film's plot. Don't read if you don't want to (which is always the way it works, obviously), but I feel like there's more to this movie than the story and whether or not it's "spoiled". And though I believe that, I wanted to make this paragraph a little longer to ensure that no one catches an eyeful of spoilers that they didn't intent.
Pixar's third entry into its Cars franchise is significantly better than Cars 2, in large part because Mater isn't around very much at all so the story instantly improves. Okay, that's probably not fair. Cars 2 had some endearing zaniness, and the chance to expand the world of the franchise was a natural step: First film, bring the urban to the rural; second film, bring the rural to the urban. Both are fish-out-of-water stories. The second film fell flat, however, because 1) Mater as a character isn't likely to change very much. His simplemindedness works against him having a really dynamic character arc; 2) the "spy who knew too little" concept isn't one rife with possibility of character growth, so the structure of the film was working against a character who wasn't likely to grow in that genre of film anyway; and 3) the emotional moments, though profound and important, were secondary--sometimes tertiary--to the wackiness of the spy plot. Put together, the film is superior to almost every Dreamworks offering simply by virtue of being a Pixar film, but in terms of Pixar, it's definitely a disappointment.
So where do you go with Cars 3? Well, Cars came out in 2006, so though there isn't the same time-gap between when we first met Woody, Buzz, and the rest in Toy Story (1995) and when we said goodbye in Toy Story 3 (2010, though Toy Story 4 is to be a 2019 release), it's only a difference of four years. Still, that's a high school experience-worth of time. Nevertheless, the themes of moving on, departure, and accepting the inevitability of time are as prominent in Cars 3 as they were in Toy Story 3. In other words, Pixar said, "What if we told the same story about moving into a new stage of life, but with Cars?"
It works very well.
I'm not actually going to critique Cars 3 as a film, save to say that it's well crafted, beautifully animated (as one would expect), and worthwhile. I've been lucky to have seen a lot more movies than usual this summer. Some were...fine (The Mummy, which was light and perhaps trying too hard but an enjoyable enough film), while others were superb (Wonder Woman, which I've already gushed about). For me, Cars 3 is second only to Wonder Woman for its thought-provoking power in the recent spate of blockbusters. (I don't know if I'd see it again in the theaters, though I wouldn't say no to someone wanting to go see Wonder Woman with me. We'll see what happens when I see Spider-Man later this week.)
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| Major spoilers. (Source) |
Pixar's third entry into its Cars franchise is significantly better than Cars 2, in large part because Mater isn't around very much at all so the story instantly improves. Okay, that's probably not fair. Cars 2 had some endearing zaniness, and the chance to expand the world of the franchise was a natural step: First film, bring the urban to the rural; second film, bring the rural to the urban. Both are fish-out-of-water stories. The second film fell flat, however, because 1) Mater as a character isn't likely to change very much. His simplemindedness works against him having a really dynamic character arc; 2) the "spy who knew too little" concept isn't one rife with possibility of character growth, so the structure of the film was working against a character who wasn't likely to grow in that genre of film anyway; and 3) the emotional moments, though profound and important, were secondary--sometimes tertiary--to the wackiness of the spy plot. Put together, the film is superior to almost every Dreamworks offering simply by virtue of being a Pixar film, but in terms of Pixar, it's definitely a disappointment.
So where do you go with Cars 3? Well, Cars came out in 2006, so though there isn't the same time-gap between when we first met Woody, Buzz, and the rest in Toy Story (1995) and when we said goodbye in Toy Story 3 (2010, though Toy Story 4 is to be a 2019 release), it's only a difference of four years. Still, that's a high school experience-worth of time. Nevertheless, the themes of moving on, departure, and accepting the inevitability of time are as prominent in Cars 3 as they were in Toy Story 3. In other words, Pixar said, "What if we told the same story about moving into a new stage of life, but with Cars?"
It works very well.
I'm not actually going to critique Cars 3 as a film, save to say that it's well crafted, beautifully animated (as one would expect), and worthwhile. I've been lucky to have seen a lot more movies than usual this summer. Some were...fine (The Mummy, which was light and perhaps trying too hard but an enjoyable enough film), while others were superb (Wonder Woman, which I've already gushed about). For me, Cars 3 is second only to Wonder Woman for its thought-provoking power in the recent spate of blockbusters. (I don't know if I'd see it again in the theaters, though I wouldn't say no to someone wanting to go see Wonder Woman with me. We'll see what happens when I see Spider-Man later this week.)
Growing Old
I don't know if it's that this is always the case, or maybe I happen to be a part of the millennial generation (one of its oldest members, technically), but I feel like I keep seeing "old versions" of stuff that I knew and loved as a younger man. I really cut my teeth on fantasy literature by reading The Sword of Truth series when I was in late-high school, early college. By the time I got to the book Confessor, I had been reading the series for years. A character, Rachel, showed up--she was older, a lethal assassin, and helps out the protagonists when they least expect it. This was a crazy moment, because I had last seen her as a little girl, saved from a vicious death (almost all the deaths in Goodkind's books are vicious; probably comes from his objectivism background).
Perhaps more significantly, I loved Metal Gear Solid when it first came out on the first PlayStation back in 1998. I played all of the major games in the entry multiple times. I was excited enough for Metal Gear Solid 4 when it came out, ten years later, that I bought the deluxe edition the day it came out. Pre-ordered it and everything. The gimmick for MGS4 was playing as "Old Snake". How was he old? What did that have to do with anything? Well, the answer was "plenty", but seeing the evolution of Snake throughout the different games--as much from the changing video game hardware as the story--was fascinating. And seeing someone that I associated with my youth now looking and acting older as I, myself, was feeling older (though by 2008 I had barely started my career or my family) was a piece of life that I hadn't expected to see replicated in art.
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| Much of my passion for video games comes from these guys. Technically, there are two of them. (Source) |
And that's what Cars 3 is about. Based upon the teaser trailer, it was a grimdark casting of the story, with Lightning McQueen crashing dramatically. He does that, but his wreck doesn't do a lot to him physically. He doesn't walk (drive?) with a limp, or in anyway indicate that the wreck did anything other than make him think hard about what he's doing with his life.
Throughout the film, McQueen's love of racing is apparent, and the idea of retirement terrifies him. He does everything he can to overcome the younger generation's use of technology, their easy speed, their way of changing the game. In the end, he recognizes that he has something that the younglings don't have: Experience. And the lesson he learns is that transmitting that experience through mentoring and coaching is the best way to move into the next phase of his life.
Having given up quidditch, and now even abandoning the coaching side of the sport (though if enough students can commit to attendance, I'd love to bring it back), and egotistically viewing myself as a mentor and role model to my students, this movie really resonated. Seeing McQueen struggle to maintain his identity now that he--and the audience who was younger when they first met him--is older, the questions of how to pass on the torch and move into a less-active role are questions that everyone faces. McQueen is not aging gracefully at the beginning of the film; though he's abandoned the narcissism that got him into trouble in the first film, he's still addicted to his life and career. That's pretty normal, I think, and it makes sense for his character. But he digs in his claws (metaphorically, obviously) when it becomes increasingly clear that he can't continue on the same path. The road, as it were, is ending.
This is something that preoccupies me. In the aforementioned post, I talk about how I don't know how to say goodbye. One of the few lessons I've learned well is that change is permanent; everything else is temporary. I miss old friends who've fallen by the wayside, old students who are in their next phase of life. I wonder about what's next and can't quite settle my mind that "this is it: You've arrived!" is my reality. I don't want to change my career or shift schools or make any drastic, dramatic changes. There's enough variety in my life that I'm kept interested. Nothing has blurred into a miasma of mediocrity. Yet this road will end. I don't know how or why or when--which is where the worry comes from--but I do know that it will eventually stop. All roads do.
I can only hope that I can shift gears as well as Lightning McQueen does in Cars 3.