Inside Out sheds light on those tumultuous preteen problems we’ve all forgotten about. Twelve year-old Riley and her family have moved to San Francisco. They’re a close family with happy memories, big dreams and a hopeful future. But Riley’s new home has greatly effected her personality and diminished her childhood. She’s a kid, so her emotions are amplified and run her at a hundred miles an hour. This story is about those emotions.
The film shows us Joy first. At Riley’s birth, Joy appears with a burst of light and energy. She’s a proud feeling that wants nothing but Riley’s happiness. Sadness comes next at the opposite end of the scale. All the other feelings are built between these two, and command Riley’s decisions through a control room in her head. It’s not so much scientific as it is figurative. I was worried the film would be neurotic and pedantic, filled with psychological terms and ideas, but it’s a film driven more by a heart than a head. When the scenarios began to play out, I was at once reminded of Ingmar Bergman’s The Seventh Seal, not at all for the subject matter, but for the concept and how it speaks figurative language. That is the strength of Pixar’s latest gem. It creates instances that are both metaphorical and literal, bringing together the two prevalent pillars of Pixar’s work: fantasy and realism.
The color palette is gorgeous. Riley’s head is presented with round objects of distinct color and brightness, contrasting the real world which appears textural and gritty. Playing off these colors, the feelings inside her head work together for Riley’s motives, notably Joy and Sadness. Riley’s first day at her new school nearly destroys the command center when Sadness touches a core memory and expels her and Joy from headquarters. With Joy and Sadness stuck in long-term memory, it’s up to Fear, Disgust and Anger to navigate Riley’s decisions. It’s a fascinating scene. I remember when I was young, troubling moments would propel me into a state of confusion where the only few feelings I drew on were fear, disgust and anger. I was never fully joyful, but also locked sadness away from view. Joy and Sadness’s journey back to headquarters is compelling because of how the characters develop, but it’s also a greatly written metaphor in how the two feelings balance each other out.
Another fascinating moment is when the remaining emotions (Fear, Disgust and Anger) convince Riley run away. Outwardly, we’ve seen this scenario before, maybe we’ve even been there. Yet the constant array of conflicts the feelings experience justify such a rash and juvenile decision. Inside Out’s ability to tell such a strong story in so short a time span, and in such a simple setup, is their most admirable achievement since Up. That film was about a man moving his floating house to an enormous haven. Inwardly, the film represented the struggle to let go of pain and past love. Inside Out similarly represents the light and dark places we all go and what it takes to get back home and to ourselves.
Pixar’s done this theme before, but never to such a literal extent. The scene where Joy and Bing Bong (Riley’s forgotten imaginary friend) plummet into forgetfulness is a tragic one. I was reminded of Toy Story, when Buzz and Woody are trapped in Sid’s room and finally come to terms with themselves, or The Incredibles, where the superheros are tied up and powerless. Pixar’s excels at moments like this. They play to our highest and lowest emotions and I think what makes this film special is that we’re watching the emotions this time, as if we we’re given a glimpse inside the heads of the Pixar filmmakers and the worlds they render. Joy, beat and broken, weeps at her failed intentions. We get a beautiful wide shot of the glowing Joy, down on her knees cradling the last happy core memories she’s created. Joy’s light radiates beauty, and sticks out compared to the thousands of dark forgotten memories surrounding her. It’s a striking image, one we’ve all felt; Joy is deep within the confines of our souls, shimmering somewhere in all that darkness.
How Joy escapes the pit is even more heartbreaking. She summons Bing Bong’s flying wagon, fueled by song power. Together her and Bing Bong sing their hearts up and out to get the wagon flying. It’s a true Spielberg moment, but what gets me most is when Bing Bong, already disintegrating, sacrifices himself to propel Joy and the wagon to the surface. Joy is saved, but the imaginary friend is forgotten. We all know what it’s like to grow old and forget old passions, old loves, and old ideas. Pixar presents the inevitable demise of childhood imagination so simply but so strongly.
Michael Giacchino’s score helps fuel the film’s tone as well. The beautiful arrangement of chords captures a specific feeling, one that’s been missing in Pixar films since Up (another Giacchino masterpiece). I don’t know how he does it, especially considering Inside Out is just one of three great scores he’s composed this year, the others being Tomorrowland and Jurassic World. The dude’s up for some Oscars, again.
Pixar continues to prove itself financially and critically. The studio’s taken their place with contemporary cinema and created beautiful works of human quality and depth. They’re latest hit is a wondrous marvel to see and feel.