There is little doubt Inside Out 2 has helped Pixar find its mojo again. One of the most successful and important animation studios slumped, like the rest of the world, into a rut during the pandemic. And, despite the quality of the studio's output over the past four years, it never really felt like they were finding their way out of it. That is, until the sequel to the tender and imaginative Inside Out was released. It has already become Pixar's highest-ever grossing film, and the highest-grossing animated film in history (discounting 2019's The Lion King, a threshold that Inside Out 2 may well breach soon anyway). Perhaps most tellingly, it has made $400 million more than the last six Pixar releases combined.
Needless to say, the pandemic and a foray of streaming-over-cinema releases are mitigating factors. But equally true is the likes of Lightyear (2022) and Elemental (2023) weren't enough to drive audiences back to the big screen during a time when the box office was rediscovering its pre-pandemic mojo. This downturn led director Pete Docter, Pixar's Chief Creative Officer, to say in an interview with Bloomberg that Pixar needed to move away from stories with a more autobiographical or personal element, instead focusing on stories with a “clear mass appeal” that speak to a supposed universality of experience. This echoes the words of Disney CEO Bob Iger, who has also said that Pixar will be moving away from its heavy shift on original content and more towards sequels and spin-offs with a previously established fanbase.
This renewed emphasis is all over Inside Out 2. In the world of this film and its predecessor, for all of the differences between the characters in terms of gender, age, likes, dislikes, and actions, they all share the same basic apparatus of emotive thought. Everybody, from the children to the parents, has numerous emotions twisting dials and pushing buttons inside their heads. Minus some minor tweaks, they also all look exactly the same regardless of whose head you are looking in. Anger, whether he has a brimming moustache or wearing bright pink lipstick, is still a square red fellow wearing a suit. What better way to deliver a universal appeal than a film where every single person's brain and emotional centre is structured in exactly the same way?
In both Inside Out and Inside Out 2, you don't see too much of the minds of other people. Riley is front and centre; the vessel steered by Joy, Sadness, Anger, Disgust, and Fear through every trial and tribulation. She goofs around, mouths off to her parents, stresses out, and embarks on a journey to reassess her priorities in a way that will likely speak to teenage girls all over the world. And that is exactly the point. Riley's character is less of an individual and more of a stand-in for the highs and lows experienced by teenagers everywhere.
Why does this matter? Because for all of the evident charm of Inside Out 2, Riley's status as a tabula rasa hastily scribbled upon by her emotions just isn't that interesting. When she is panicking, happy, ashamed, or whatever else, the audience sees exactly why these things happen the way they do as the film churns through each cringe-worthy, moving, or dramatic relatable moment. You see exactly which emotion is pushing buttons, pulling levers and working their magic. This self-evident presentation leaves the central question of ‘who is Riley' frustratingly unanswered.
It is unanswered because, to put it harshly, Inside Out 2 isn't interested in Riley. Her history, her identity, her growth—they are secondary concerns compared to the five-strong team of emotions battling for their relevance inside her mind, and compared to what she has to say about a typical teenage girl experience (whatever on earth that is or if it a ‘typical' experience can even be pinned down). Her biography is of little importance.
This matters because Pixar's best moments have always put the character first and foremost, and manage to find wide-reaching messages from this focus on the individual rather than forcing them into the sole role of a thematic messenger. Their recent emphasis on original, character-driven stories brings in a wealth of different influences and personal touches to generate people in the films that feel complete. The best recent example is Turning Red (2022), influenced by director Domee Shi's upbringing. The film focuses on thirteen-year-old Mei, a Chinese-Canadian teenager who changes into a gigantic red panda whenever she experiences especially strong emotions. Shi previously said in an interview that “Turning Red […] was so personal, but also tackled such a universal theme.”
Shi neatly sums up the secret that has assured Pixar such incredible success, ever since the original Toy Story (1995). Mei's character is influenced by her environment, her history, her heritage and her personal strife all intersecting with one another. What she has to say about the experience of teenage girls pales in comparison to the detail and uniqueness that we uncover about her as an individual, with all of the emotional gravity and significance that this brings. And from that individuated focus, a more far-reaching appeal can be found; an appeal with regards to identity, family, and growing up.
Pixar might be revelling in the success of Inside Out 2, but they would do well to remember that universal themes always find their purchase and significance in the minuteness of individual, specific livelihoods. Pixar might be making the changes it is making to try and rediscover its earlier success, a decision driven by cold corporate strategisation rather than creative ideology. But if it risks going too far the other way then it could fall behind in what is an increasingly high-quality animation market. More importantly, they risk losing what makes so many of their established classics so special; that sincere, emotional focus on characterisation and detail as well as a more wide-reaching appeal. Because Inside Out 2, for a film all about emotions, is lacking heart.
