Inside Out

              There is a moment while watching a great film or reading a wonderful piece of literature when it appears the screen between the filmmaker and audience member has fallen.  On these rare occasions (rarer still in the current Hollywood climate), a true connection is made between artist and consumer.  The reader or viewer finds something in the story or image that speaks to them personally.  As the late Richard Griffiths explains to his student in The History Boys, it is like a hand reaching out and grasping yours. 

                I had such an experience while watching Disney Pixar’s Inside Out.   Directed by Pete Docter and Ronaldo Del Carmen, the film does what all Pixar films do best; it industrializes and anthropomorphizes a concept.  Monster’s Inc. looks at the economics of fear within a society of monsters under the bed.  Finding Nemo explores mass transportation in the aquatic realm.  With Inside Out, Pixar brings to life the internal business of thoughts and emotions. 

                In the film, every human and sentient creature’s head is filled with walking talking emotions. The “head office” (not my pun) of our young hero Riley is populated by Joy (Amy Poehler), Sadness (Phyllis Smith), Fear (Bill Hader), Anger (Lewis Black), and Disgust (Mindy Kaling).  While the group takes turns controlling the main computer, Joy is the clear leader.  Riley is a happy sprite and Joy spends her days creating fine memories for her young charge.  However, Riley’s life is turned upside down by a sudden cross country move.  What follows is a unique and enthralling take on the coming of age story where both Riley and her emotions must grow up and accept the complexities of life. 

                This was what I found most surprising in Inside Out.  Many Pixar films deal with adult and somewhat dark issues.   The first twenty minutes of Up?  Jeez.  My heart still hurts from that one.  Inside Out has no lack of tear jerking moments.  In the tradition of Pixar and all Disney films, growing up is tragic and beautiful.  Friends die and memories are lost.  Yet, with Inside Out, the filmmakers don’t just tackle the darkness but also the greys.   Joy is not always the most helpful and sadness isn’t always harmful.  It is in their meeting that we truly live.   For anyone who has been to therapy, sometimes it’s okay not to be okay. 

                This abstract, high concept is the film’s greatest strength, but also its greatest weakness.  The symbolism of Joy dragging Sadness through the vaulted hallways of memory is clear.  While these analogies can be thought provoking and personally resonant, the logic isn’t always stable.   The main question I ask is “Who has agency here?”  Are the emotions in control of Riley or are they simply performing based on her moods?  Is every action the emotions take reflective of an action taken by Riley?  In films like Toy Story it is clear that the Woody and Buzz are separate from Andy.  In Inside Out, the directors seem to have bitten off more than they can chew. 

                These questions of logic do not linger long when bombarded by the film’s dazzling imagery.  The production and character design of the brain world are vibrant and evocative.  They stand in stark contrast to the photorealistic, drizzly streets of San Francisco.  The “real” world is less Uncle Walt and more David Fincher.  Both worlds are rendered in such glorious detail, I found myself easily transported. 

                That is the true magic of this film.  On one hand, I felt whisked away to a strange, colorful land.  On the other, I found myself going deeper into myself, examining my own life and struggles with mental health.   In a summer where the explosions are bigger and the ideas smaller, Inside Out reminds us what great film can truly be.   It is an invitation to travel far and deep.