In almost a needless fashion, the expression “Pixar has done it again” comes as second nature every summer. From a studio able to conjure unfathomable amounts of money, these cats have yet to sell out (ahem, Dreamworks). Their most successful films over the past years have been completely original, products of increasing congratulatory claims. So Toy Story 3 seemed like a dance of death. Eleven years since we last took note of Woody, Buzz or Andy, Pixar was planning on committing mass suicide before a year that’s so far been riddled with unimaginative movies and countless sequels; this shouldn’t have worked. In Toy Story 3 the magic Disney was able to bring to 2D animation long before their Shaggy Dog and Camp Rock years finally clashes with Pixar’s fresh mojo to create a marketable film with a lively heart able to overcome previous achievements, bringing up a solute of endless wonder and a definitive streak from a studio with no true competition and no better way to beat the heat.

We left Andy, faithful owner of Woody (Tom Hanks), Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) and his mess of other playthings in 1999 with Toy Story 2. Now in 2010 Andy’s grown up, heading off to college, so much neglecting his toys they resort to hiding his cell phone in the Western-themed rectangle to which they’ve been banished just in hopes of Andy’s touch. In the Mac-centric world that is Toy Story 3’s color-brimming sheen Andy and his younger sister Molly, replacing her Barbie dolls for an iPod (winking to Pixar industrialist Steve Jobs), have not been placed in this newfound era, but have matured into it. Woody and Buzz have become nothing more than things to dust around, lost souls reaping consequences found only on the other side of childhood. The toys are taken to Sunnyside daycare, where they meet Up’s favorite Easter egg Lotso Hugging Bear (Ned Beatty), appointed chairman of the foundation, Ken (Michael Keaton) and Stretch (Whoopi Goldberg). It’s paradise, though Woody doesn’t seem to think so. He’d much prefer being stashed away in the attic, long as he’d be able to be there for Andy whenever he’d need him. In many ways Toy Story 3 is a movie inside another movie. For the first time Andy’s human dilemma severely affects these novelties, taking them not towards the light but to a place they’re unable to control. For the first time the toys can’t fix this external problem because they’re physically unable to without revealing identities they’ve worked so hard to maintain. Much as it is a movie about adventurous beings as it is one that’s remotely impassive, where human nature is tested and pitied while remaining a distinct homage to traditional Americanism.

The task at hand here is melancholy. For kids who grew up with these characters, myself included (I near burned out the VHS tape of the original), screwing up such a perfect franchise could be another pale reminded of Hollywood gone awry. But they don’t screw this one up. Toy Story 3, directed by editor of numero uno and co-director of numero dos Lee Unkrich, serves as a flawless bookend to a revolutionary series of films, but also a well-deserved rank among Pixar’s best and brightest. The true feeling this movie brings to anyone is indescribable, a combination of nostalgia and mentally reliving a different time. I bring up what hellfire our world is going through right now, and why movies are so damned important, but Toy Story 3 is a struggling breakthrough for something you’d thought had already been stylized years ago. It’s like watching everything for the first time, and being introduced to pieces of plastic that are so much more. Here Pixar personifies what’s sitting in the chest in your basement or your attic and caps characteristics deemed unimaginable. For Pixar’s innovative strides demand more than just the bare minimum, but qualities grade-A dramas or comedies often incessantly get wrong. Animation is another medium entirely, where bridges can be blown and pigs can be evil masterminds. Yet at the heart Toy Story 3 has fun, and perhaps the amount of fun its able to have is where Pixar once again gets it right.

What’s so fantastic about the Toy Stories and WALL∙E’s of the movie world is the memories they’re able to simultaneously induce while also showcasing one spitfire of a story. Without a great story you don’t have a great movie; it doesn’t work that way. You’ve been waiting for Toy Story 3 and it fully delivers, on all engines, a utopia of riffraff and oblivious playthings brought to a cold truth. It’s like entering a new school for the first time. You don’t know anyone. You need to basically start all over again with an entirely new personality to kids already inhabiting there. This movie nary changes a thing. Instead of becoming another book on the shelf Toy Story 3 doesn’t ride on its own preceding works yet cherishes the thought of them. It beckons you to recall a time where you loved a certain toy, and where exactly you really stopped. Andy hasn’t stopped loving Woody, Buzz, or Jesse; he’s only lost sight of them. This Toy Story is about growing up instead of having something to grow up with.

There are so many types of movies. Movies that make you laugh; movies that scare you; movies that move you. Then are the ones that take you back. Wrap it in summer’s most ubiquitous package, and that’s Toy Story 3. Damn you, Pixar. Damn you for being a friend, all this time, and making life just a bit easier to bear.

MUST SEE.