‘Lightyear’ Soars To Infinity But Not Beyond

Lightyear (2022)

_{Pixar/rated PG/109 minutes}

_{Directed by Angus MacLane}

_{Written by Angus MacLane, Jason Headley and Matthew Aldrich}

_{Produced by Galyn Susman}

_{Starring Chris Evans, Keke Palmer, Peter Sohn, James Brolin, Taika Waititi, Dale Soules, Uzo Aduba, Mary McDonald-Lewis, Efren Ramirez and Isiah Whitlock Jr.}

_{Cinematography by Jeremy Lasky (camera) and Ian Megibben (lighting)}

_{Edited by Anthony J. Greenberg}

_{Music by Michael Giacchino}

_{Opening theatrically courtesy of Walt Disney on June 17}

Yes, the commercial inclination beyond Lightyear is unquestionably cynical. Whether by coincidence or design, this big-budget outer space adventure allows Disney to center Buzz Lightyear not voiced by Tim Allen (who has become a more firebrand kind of conservative) but by apolitical good guy (and live-action Captain America) Chris Evans. Nonetheless, it’s just as possible that Angus MacLane wanted to make a splashy sci-fi actioner and used the Lightyear brand as a protective IP. And in a non-Covid world, Lightyear would have been the safe, surefire commercial cash-in/tentpole following a slew of original, inclusive and less surefire Pixar fantasies like Onward, Soul, Luca and Turning Red. Alas, two years of Covid and a new mentality that used Pixar’s A+ critical reputation as a carrot for Disney+ led to those last three films going straight to Disney+.

Fair or not, it’s a terrible look (especially for a company that uses diversity as a marketing tool and a shield against criticism) that this “white guy hero’s journey” IP exploitation is the one that gets to play theatrically. That it plays like a mega-budget variation of the kind of thing, think Buzz Lightyear of Star Command: The Adventure Begins, that would have gone straight to VHS or DVD in a bygone era makes it doubly bittersweet that it’s now the first Pixar flick in over two years to avoid such a fate. However, beyond those accidental cultural and commercial considerations, the movie itself almost kinda-sorta justifies itself artistically. It’s good enough to be worth seeing to those with a pre-release interest, but not quite triumphant enough to get the unconverted off the fence.

If it needs to be said, the film is a visual triumph, with stunningly photo-real images and richly detailed deep-space locations that I wouldn’t mind seeing again in IMAX if my kids request as much. The picture may star Evans’ Lightyear as a guy, not unlike Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, who finds himself flirting with irrelevance as the world (in this case literally) speeds past him, the supporting cast features the likes of Keke Palmer, Uzo Aduba, Taika Waititi, Efren Ramiraz and Isiah Whitlock Jr. And the film’s narrative acknowledges that most folks will know who Buzz Lightyear is and tells a story that otherwise might have been saved for the sequel. Yes, it eventually flirts with being a glorified pilot for a Disney+ show, which it may well be, but the journey getting there is solid.

The picture races out of the gates, with Lightyear trying and failing to get his ship away from a hostile alien world. With everyone, both the crew and the copious hibernating scientists stranded and disillusioned, Lightyear relentlessly attempts to figure out how to crack a new formula for interstellar travel. Alas, each failed test flight takes four years in “regular time,” and before he knows it 62 years have passed. However, one last attempt puts Lightyear in conflict with his superiors, and before you can say Austin Powers, Buzz finds himself facing a new threat with only his (now deceased) best friend’s granddaughter (Palmer) to help him. All of this is just the first act, even if the middle section is a going-through-the-motion action comedy about an experienced professional trying to whip rag-tag rookies into fighting shape.

The third act of this 109-minute picture features a surprise or two. It leans into the idea that Buzz Lightyear shouldn’t matter enough to justify a feature-film spin-off, and that the film’s existence is another example of how the current adults in the room cannot let go of our childhood pop culture. Don’t worry, it’s not that heavy, and the picture works as a bemusing and sharply written (co-penned by MacLane and Jason Headley) sci-fi adventure that has as much in common with The Black Hole as The Force Awakens. At its best moments, including some genuine emotional melancholy in the first and third acts, Lightyear plays as a film that took its commercial motivations not as an excuse or a crutch but as an artistic challenge, not unlike Creed II or The LEGO Movie.

It’s not that good; it’s still very much a commercially motivated piece of art with multi-platform media franchise aspirations. However, nobody involved phoned it in. Aduba is terrific as Buzz’s teammate (yes, she’s gay and kisses her wife at a key narrative juncture and no I don’t think it’ll affect the box office to any major degree), while Whitlock Jr. lends his distinct vocals and offers slight shading to what could have been a stock “disapproving superior” part. Oh, and Peter Sohn winningly voices Sox, a robot cat who (not surprisingly) steals the entire movie. Hey, if Disney wants to make a Sox streaming show or spin-off movie, I’ll happily watch that. Otherwise, Lightyear is the movie you expected, clear in its motivations but made by folks unwilling to completely color within the lines.

_{Note: As for “what this movie is,” the opening text lays it out simpler than any of the pre-release marketing has done thus far. It’s the movie Andy saw in 1995 that made him a Buzz Lightyear fan, like if a kid became a Batman fan only after seeing Batman Forever or wanted He-Man toys only after seeing Masters of the Universe. It’s not complicated, despite the filmmakers’ inexplicable attempts to present it as such.}