What Pixar did with TOY STORY 5 is absolutely INSANE

[00:00:00] Speaker 1: Toy Story shouldn't have survived its own ambition, and maybe today, that's exactly the problem with its fifth movie. Behind the adventures of Woody Buzz and their friends, Toy Story was always a battlefield between Pixar and Disney, two companies that hated each other just as much as they needed each other. This friction resulted in a saga plagued by creative mandates, bitter fights, and above all, pure greed. But listen to this. On top of the internal tensions, the movie had to be completely rebuilt in a matter of weeks because it was almost entirely deleted from the servers. And as if that weren't enough, the main person responsible, the one who poured his soul into the project and sacrificed everything for Toy Story, ended up banned from Hollywood forever. This story is going to make your blood boil, but it's going to show you that sometimes the price of success is much higher than we could ever imagine. We are standing on the precipice of a brand new title in the universe of the cowboy and the astronaut. This time around, the toys must face off against the rise of technology in childhood. But to truly understand the nightmare hidden beneath the current state of Toy Story, we need to rewind nearly 40 years into the past and talk about Pixar. Back then, it wasn't the powerhouse movie studio it is today. For years, it was just the technical division of Lucasfilm, best known, of course, as the birthplace of Star Wars. Everything changed in 1986 when Steve Jobs acquired the company with a crystal-clear goal: to conquer digital animation. But technology alone wasn't enough. And that's where the team's key animator, and the main protagonist of our story, stepped onto the scene: John Lasseter. Lasseter kicked off his career making short films that prove digital animation wasn't just a flashy technical gimmick, but a powerful narrative tool capable of telling stories with real soul. That's how, in 1988, he presented Tin Toy. This short about the odyssey of a toy terrorized by a giant baby achieved the unthinkable. It captured the undivided attention of Hollywood. More specifically, it caught the eye of Disney. That marked the very beginning of their glory and the start of their worst conflicts. In the early 90s, Lasseter received a call from the president of Disney's film division, Jeffrey Katzenberg. We've talked quite a bit about him in other videos, but let's remember he was the man responsible for the creative rebirth of the Walt Disney Company following a devastating dark age. In fact, Lasseter had actually worked at Disney during that dark age and had been promptly fired. Now, the new management was begging him to come back and lead the digital revolution. Lasseter thanked him, but looked at Jobs and said, "I can go to Disney and be a director, or I can stay here and make history." Everything could have ended right there, until Katzenberg contacted Jobs to sign a co-production deal. This was completely unprecedented, as Disney traditionally only produced its own movies. Lasseter soon realized that Katzenberg had made this move not because he actually cared about Pixar, but because he desperately wanted Lasseter on his team. Even so, he saw it as the perfect opportunity to fulfill a deeply personal dream, directing a fully digitally animated movie. They sat down for a meeting with Katzenberg and Michael Eisner, the CEO of Disney. Lasseter pitched three different ideas, including a Tin Toy Christmas, a holiday television special. Katzenberg looked at them and countered, "They were already going to jump from a short film to a half-hour special? Why not just make a full-length movie instead?" Lasseter couldn't believe his ears. He was about to fulfill his ultimate dream, which would also become the first feature-length computer animated film in history. But first, Jobs and Eisner had to close the deal. They signed a contract spanning three movies. Pixar would receive roughly 12.5% of the ticket sales, while Disney would retain total ownership and control over the films and characters, including the rights to make sequels. This specific clause would go on to generate a massive wave of problems that we are still seeing today. But let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet. Following the agreement between Pixar and Disney, Lasseter developed an expansion of Tin Toy, which he titled Toy Story. The plot centers on a group of toys that secretly come to life whenever their owner, Andy, leaves the room. Their comfortable routine is completely shattered by the arrival of a flashy new toy, Buzz Lightyear. The coexistence starts out incredibly rocky, but by the end, they all become close friends, especially the cowboy and the space ranger. The story treatment for Toy Story captivated Jobs, but Katzenberg famously said, "Characters who are too nice are boring." He was particularly annoyed by Woody, whom he considered far too passive and well-behaved. Because of this, he demanded they rewrite him to give him a sharper, meaner edge. He wanted the film to appeal not just to children, but to adults as well. Lasseter fundamentally disagreed, but he wasn't in a position to push back. Katzenberg had just single-handedly resurrected Disney, so his word carried more weight than anyone else's in the industry. In early 1992, with a budget of $30 million, Lasseter dove headfirst into Toy Story. It was the most ambitious project of his entire life, so he assembled a team featuring his most loyal collaborators, Pete Docter, Andrew Stanton, Lee Uncrick, and Ash Brannan. After finishing the script, he cast the voice talent, headed by Tom Hanks as Woody and Tim Allen as Buzz. He then moved into pre-production, confident that the film would be groundbreaking, even though Katzenberg's notes still sat terribly with him. The ultimate horror arrived on Friday, November 19th, 1993. Lasseter attended a crucial meeting with Disney's top executives, including Katzenberg, Eisner, and Roy E. Disney, the nephew of Walt Disney himself, and the head of the animation department. Lasseter proudly screened a "story reel" for them, essentially a storyboard edited together over the recorded audio tracks. The footage showed the first 15 minutes of the movie, capturing the very first interactions between Woody and Buzz. The moment the lights came up, the room fell dead silent. Suddenly, one executive snapped, "Why are we even making this?" Lasseter could see the bosses staring back at him in pure fury. But deep down, he also hated how Toy Story was turning out. Woody was no longer warm and kind-hearted. Instead, he deliberately threw Buzz out of a window and ruthlessly mocked him in front of the other toys with absolute contempt. In fact, he screamed at them, insulted them, and dominated every single scene with a deeply toxic energy. Above all, that test screening lacked any shred of humor, emotion, or soul. Even so, Lasseter never expected to hear Eisner give the order to completely shut down production. The director looked to Katzenberg for answers, but Katzenberg quickly deflected, claiming he had never asked for something that dark. Toy Story, the movie destined to change cinematic history, was disintegrating before it even existed. But Lasseter refused to back down. He promised Eisner that he could rewrite and rebuild the material entirely from scratch. The CEO hesitated, but ultimately agreed to let him try, under two strict conditions. He only had two weeks, and Pixar would have to foot the entire bill. If they failed, it would mean the absolute end of the project, and quite possibly the end of Pixar's contract. In Pixar history, that fateful day would forever be known as Black Friday. If you aren't subscribed to the channel yet, this is exactly the kind of story that makes it worth it. Listen to this. What followed was a brutal race against the clock. Lasseter completely rewrote the script alongside Doctor and Stanton, then tirelessly redrew the storyboards and supervised the animators. The entire team worked from early morning until the dead of night. The director was utterly determined to overhaul Woody's tone and personality. The cowboy would still feel jealous when Buzz first arrives, but he was changed back into a likable character, who ultimately learns how to co-exist. In fact, this new draft made it crystal clear that the film was actually a story about friendship. The director kept the scene where the space ranger falls out the window, but this time it was written as an unfortunate accident rather than a malicious act. By the time the two weeks were up, Lasseter screened the new test footage of Toy Story for the Disney executives. Eisner sat there with a stone-cold expression, even murmuring that he had very little faith in it. But as the lights came up at the end of the screening, he smiled and announced that they could officially finish the movie. The rest of the executives nodded in approval, and Katzenberg openly admitted that this friendlier tone was the right way to go. With Disney's official seal of approval, Lasseter and his team completed Toy Story right on time for its premiere on November 22, 1995. Children and adults alike were completely spellbound by the digital animation, but above all by the story and the characters. The film ended up grossing $401 million worldwide and was met with glowing critical acclaim. Most importantly, it proved that computer-generated cinema wasn't just a technical possibility, but a medium capable of deeply moving an audience. Thanks to Toy Story, Pixar transformed from a struggling tech division into a global cinematic powerhouse. Lasseter, Jobs, and the entire crew were on cloud nine. As for Katzenberg, he left Disney on incredibly bitter terms in 1994 to co-found DreamWorks. There, he would go on to produce Shrek, proving that an edgy cynical animated film could also become a massive success. But we can dive into that story in another video. After dancing on the edge of destruction, Toy Story had finally achieved glory. But that success would come with a steep price. The movie had been aggressively molded by executive tensions, creative mandates, and outside interference. It managed to survive the gauntlet, but the war between artistic creativity and corporate greed was only just beginning. In fact, it was about to get a whole lot worse in the first sequel. After the miracle of Toy Story, anyone might think that making a sequel would be a breeze. The characters worked, the audience was guaranteed, and Pixar was no longer just a risky experiment. But what followed was even more chaotic. At first, everything was going smoothly. Lasseter loved Woody, Buzz, and all the toys. So when Disney proposed making a sequel, he happily accepted. They even had a solid idea for the plot. Woody would be kidnapped by a toy collector, and the rest of the gang would have to rescue him. It was a completely natural expansion of the universe. But everything hit a wall when Lasseter met Katzenberg's successor, Joe Roth. Roth loved the idea, and greenlit the project right then and there, although not for theatrical release. The new executive explained that the studio had found a highly lucrative business model in making direct-to-video sequels of their biggest hits. This way, they could spend a fraction of the budget, and, relying entirely on brand recognition, rake in massive profits. Roth added one crucial detail: the movie shouldn't run any longer than 60 minutes. And let's remember that, due to their initial contract, Disney had the power to make it practically on their own. Lasseter hated this news, but he had already learned how these corporate decisions worked. He had earned Disney's admiration, but at the end of the day, he was still an employee. Furthermore, the contract explicitly stated that the Walt Disney Company fully owned the characters. And there was another pressing issue: Lasseter and his main crew of about 250 people had already started production on their next digitally animated film, A Bug's Life. It had a release date set for November 1998, and Roth planned to release Toy Story 2 that exact same year. Angry and deeply disillusioned, Lasseter agreed to step away from Woody and Buzz. He was at least able to choose his replacement, handing the reins to Ash Brannan, who would lead a secondary B-team of about 150 animators. Production on Toy Story 2 began in March 1997. Lasseter had to focus on A Bug's life, but he stayed in contact with Brannan. The director didn't trust Disney very much, so he remained on high alert for any kind of interference. To his surprise, everything went much better than expected. In November 1997, Brannan told him that the executives were completely blown away by the early test screenings. It seemed like much more than just a simple direct-to-video sequel to them. This changed the entire landscape, and a villain from the past returned to become a hero. Michael Eisner After seeing the test footage, he ordered the project to be expanded into a full theatrical release. In fact, he set a firm release date: November 22nd, 1999. Furthermore, he increased the budget to 90 million dollars, and they would once again be able to count on Hanks and Allen. Lasseter couldn't contain his happiness, and predicted an experience even better than the previous one. Until something happened that absolutely no one foresaw. In May 1998, Lasseter was finalizing the post-production on A Bug's life when he heard some bizarre news. Toy Story 2 had disappeared. Worried, he called Brannan, who was on the verge of a total breakdown. He explained that an animator had been clearing out files, which was a routine task, using the deletion command code rm-rf, or simply remove files. But they had accidentally entered the code in the movie's root files on Pixar's internal servers. Another animator noticed immediately and had the file servers shut down, but it wasn't enough. They had lost 90% of the work. To make matters worse, they discovered that the backup copy hadn't been working for a month. Lasseter kept himself from passing out, but tried his best to comfort Brannan. He soon learned that, logically, the Disney executives were furious. He could already picture Eisner tearing up the contract with Pixar. And with good reason. After everything it had cost to make the first Toy Story, they had now lost an entire sequel due to a catastrophic internal error. And then they received another call. Lasseter and Brannan were contacted by Galen Sussman, a Pixar technical director who was working remotely to care for her newborn baby. She had just heard the terrible news, but she revealed that she had saved a backup copy of the movie on her personal computer. Now breathing a massive sigh of relief, Lasseter and Brannan received the files and verified that almost all the work from the past few months was perfectly safe. Only the animation from the most recent days had been lost. But it wasn't a catastrophe. The important thing was that they could keep making the movie and Eisner wouldn't tear up the contract. Were the problems for Toy Story 2 over? Not by a long shot. In November 1998, after the premiere of A Bug's Life, Lasseter was finally able to sit down and watch what Brannan had been putting together. And he didn't like it at all. The animation was technically superior, but it completely lacked soul. And to him, that was more important than absolutely anything else. He told Eisner that they would need to redo almost the entire movie, but the executive flatly refused. He argued that there simply wasn't enough time to rework everything and that they had to meet the strict release date. Furthermore, he had already coordinated with the marketing division to manufacture toys and other merchandise. Any delay in the schedule would completely ruin sales. This time, Lasseter didn't hold back. He spoke with Steve Jobs, and together they insisted that this version of the film absolutely could not be released. They emphasized that it lacked the very essence of the first movie and would destroy everything they had spent years building. And they argued, if the audience rejected the movie, they would likely reject the toys and merchandise as well. Weeks passed until Eisner finally called Pixar to authorize the massive rework of Toy Story 2. But he made it abundantly clear that the release date was completely non-negotiable. Jobs and Lasseter accepted the challenge. Production resumed in January 1999, meaning Pixar had a mere nine months to completely redo a movie that normally takes years to make. Lasseter himself took over directing duties and rewrote the script alongside Stanton and Doctor. He didn't fire Brannon, but rather kept him on as a co-director alongside Uncritch. Lasseter and his team kept Woody, Buzz, the rest of the toys, and the main settings, Andy's room, and Al's toy barn. But they completely scrapped the animation and almost all of the previous design work. They added new characters or rescued ones that had been previously discarded, like Buster, Andy's dog. They also added the epic opening sequence where Buzz fights robots and triggers a massive explosion. Everyone had to work brutal 100-hour weeks, with absolutely zero margin for error. In a rare free second, Lasseter considered trying to negotiate a new release date, but Jobs couldn't help him. Pixar was now a publicly traded company. If they didn't have the movie ready on time, it would completely destroy the studio's credibility. And Disney would cut ties with them once and for all. It would be the end of Woody, of Buzz, of Lasseter, of everything. But against all odds, they finished exactly on time. The monumental effort paid off. Toy Story 2 premiered on November 22, 1999, and was another colossal success. Audiences adored the new adventures of Woody and Buzz, and warmly embraced the new characters. It grossed $511 million, and both the public and critics felt it was even better than the first installment. Lasseter was satisfied, but he was also completely burned out. And for the very first time, he began to wonder if it was even worth continuing. He thought it was the perfect time to give the living toys a well-deserved rest. This feeling aligned with comments he had been reading on internet forums, where people mentioned that Pixar shouldn't fall into the classic Hollywood trap, turning massive hits into endless franchises that eventually exhaust their original charm. Because of this, the director was ready to dedicate himself to other projects he was passionate about, until Disney ordered another sequel. And this time, the problems were going to be even more brutal. After two chaotic productions, it seemed like Toy Story had already survived everything. Creative hurdles, technical disasters, cutthroat corporate mandates, nothing had managed to destroy it. But the third installment was going to put something much bigger on the line. Who actually controlled the story? The Calamities began in 2003, when Eisner organized a tense meeting with Jobs and Lasseter. The head of Disney stated that he wanted a third Toy Story movie, but he smugly emphasized that Toy Story 2 didn't actually count toward their original multi-picture agreement because it was a sequel. Without losing his cool, Jobs reminded him that, while his company was busy creating revolutionary products, Disney was settling for cheap direct-to-video cash grabs, exactly like they had initially tried to do with them. And Jobs didn't stop his speech there. He argued that the terms of their negotiation had always heavily favored Disney, especially when it came to retaining total ownership of the IP and pocketing the lion's share of the profits. Irritated, Eisner fired back that they didn't need Pixar anyway, and that he would simply create a brand new division to make Disney's very own digitally animated films. The executives' words weren't just empty threats. In January 2004, Jobs notified everyone at Pixar that their deal with Disney would not be renewed. Starting in 2006, they would have to start looking for other studios to distribute their productions. Lasseter was devastated. Woody, Buzz, and that entire magical world he had invented from scratch were now solely in the hands of a corporation that only cared about the bottom line. To make matters worse, Disney officially announced the creation of Circle 7 Animation, a new division strictly dedicated to computer-animated films. Their immediate slate of projects consisted entirely of sequels to Pixar's biggest hits, including Monsters Inc. Lost and Scaradise, an unmade film we've actually already dedicated a whole video to, and Toy Story 3. For the very first time, the saga was going to move forward completely without its original creators. Lasseter tried to steady an equally devastated team, and he quickly noticed that the announcement of Toy Story 3 didn't exactly generate a wave of excitement. The press and the public were already whispering that Disney was actively ruining Pixar. The director wholeheartedly agreed, but there was simply no time to sit around and mourn. Jobs insisted that they needed to double down on their own original projects to prove to Disney that they were the true source of the success, not just the IPs. Lasseter agreed with that, too. But even as he threw himself into other projects, the director just couldn't stop thinking about Toy Story. He managed to catch wind of how Circle 7 Animation was developing the third installment, and immediately wished he hadn't. The plot would feature Buzz malfunctioning, leading to a massive product recall, where he is shipped back to Taiwan. Naturally, Woody and the rest of the toys would then have to travel all the way across the globe to rescue their friend. Lasseter felt it was just a lazy rehash of the exact same structure from the previous films, bringing absolutely nothing new to the table. He vented about it with his team, who had already taken to calling the new Disney division Pixar Ain't. Lasseter was just trying to figure out how to keep ignoring the dreadful updates about Toy Story 3 when he heard the announcement that changed absolutely everything. In September 2005, Michael Eisner was ousted from Disney. As Lasseter soon learned, the company's shareholders had grown fiercely unhappy with his recent decisions, especially the catastrophic falling out with Pixar. The director couldn't help but crack a smile, and the rest of the animators openly celebrated. However, Jobs urged them to stay grounded. They still had months of contract work left with Disney, and whoever succeeded Eisner could end up being even more ruthless. That someone turned out to be Bob Iger, an executive whose background was primarily in television. Lasseter had no idea what Iger thought of his work, but in January 2006, he and Jobs were summoned to a meeting with the new CEO. After introducing himself, Iger mentioned he had just returned from Hong Kong, where he had watched a parade at the local Disneyland. He noticed that kids and adults alike went absolutely crazy for Woody, Buzz, and the other Toy Story characters. He then admitted that while the work being done over at Circle 7 Animation was good, it was still way below Pixar's standard. This made him realize something fundamental. Disney could legally continue those stories, but they could never truly replicate their essence. Because of this, on January 26, 2006, Disney officially announced that it was buying Pixar for $7.4 billion. The news shocked the industry, and more importantly, it completely altered the trajectory of Lasseter's career. He was immediately promoted to chief creative officer of both companies. His very first executive decision was to permanently dismantle Circle 7 Animation, which hadn't actually completed a single movie. He didn't hold any grudges against the animators themselves, who were simply transferred to other departments within Disney. With this move, Lasseter finally had access to the development files for the hijacked Pixar sequels, including Toy Story 3. But he actively chose not to even look at the project. He absolutely wanted to make the sequel, but he was going to start completely from scratch alongside his usual crew, including Stanton. He even managed to secure a massive approved budget of $200 million. And let's remember, the first movie cost barely $30 million. Of course, Hanks and Allen happily returned to voice the iconic leads. For the very first time, Lasseter had total uncompromised control over the destiny of the franchise. At this point, you might think the problems for Toy Story 3 were finally over. But that wasn't the case. Following the new merger between Pixar and Disney, Lasseter was required to oversee every single animated movie across both studios and consult on the theme parks. This gave him immense power and status, but it left him with absolutely no time to actually direct. After everything it had cost him to reunite with the project, he was forced to step down as the director of Toy Story 3. He remained on board as a producer, however, and as the ultimate creative authority, he was able to handpick Lee Uncrick as his successor. After years of uncertainty, the news that Toy Story 3 was returning home to Pixar generated massive excitement in the media and among the public, although many still feared that yet another sequel might dilute the original magic. Lasseter was determined not to let that happen, so he set out to make a much more mature film. He no longer wanted a simple lost toy plot. Instead, he conceived a deeply emotional story about the end of childhood and the heavy acceptance of loss. Andy is now older and about to leave for college, leaving the toys terrified of being forgotten forever. Through a series of unfortunate mishaps, most of the gang ends up trapped at a chaotic daycare center, while Woody winds up in the hands of Bonnie, a little girl who truly cherishes him. To ensure the film had the absolute best script of the entire trilogy, they brought in screenwriter Michael Arndt, who was fresh off winning an Academy Award for Little Miss Sunshine. Shortly after, Lasseter had a working draft that he absolutely loved, until he got to the ending. Arndt had written a conclusion where Woody, Buzz, and the rest of the gang escaped the daycare and returned to Andy's house, where he safely stores them in the attic. There, they remain with the comforting hope that, someday, their owner's future children will play with them. But Lasseter and Uncrick felt that, since this was going to be the final Toy Story movie, or at least that's what they still thought, they needed to reach the definitive end of the toy's life cycle. After bouncing ideas back and forth with Arndt, they added a harrowing sequence where the protagonists get trapped in a garbage incinerator and face the very real possibility of total annihilation. Then, they added the ultimate final sequence. Before heading off to college, Andy gifts his toys to Bonnie and plays with them one last time. It's the iconic scene that brought us all to tears. With the script locked in, the Toy Story 3 team worked tirelessly on the film for months. Lasseter trusted Uncrick implicitly, and he could clearly see that a truly wonderful project was taking shape. But the chief creative officer wasn't the absolute lord and master of the project, and roadblocks soon appeared. Iger asked to see the story reels and was thoroughly impressed, until he watched the incinerator sequence. He argued that it was far too dark and dramatic, fearing it might genuinely traumatize children and derail the overall tone of the film. Uncrick stood his ground, defending the scene by arguing that the stakes needed to feel absolutely real, and moreover, it perfectly aligned with the end-of-an-era core of the movie. Iger looked over at Lasseter, who had the power to tip the scales in either direction. And of course, he threw his full support behind his colleague. This time, he would be the one making the final call. As had become customary by now, Pixar's battle paid off. Toy Story 3 hit theaters on June 18, 2010, and the sheer scale of the phenomenon surprised even Lasseter. Audiences and critics alike were completely won over by the new adventures of Woody and Buzz. It captivated even the harshest skeptics, who had spent years writing that a third installment was a terrible idea, and everyone admitted to tearing up at the emotional climax. Even Quentin Tarantino, a director famous for his hyper-violent films, openly admitted that the ending left him in tears. The film grossed $1.067 billion, making history as the very first animated film to ever surpass the $1 billion mark at the global box office. Furthermore, it earned a highly coveted Academy Award nomination for Best Picture, an incredibly rare and prestigious feat for an animated movie. Now, everyone at Pixar was finally happy. After years of bitter corporate conflicts, near-fatal technical mistakes, the saga had found its absolute perfect ending. Although they would soon discover that it wouldn't be the true ending after all. After everything the franchise had been through, it seemed impossible that Toy Story could ever be in danger again. It had survived misguided creative decisions, catastrophic technical errors, and a corporate war that nearly stripped it of its original creators. What else could possibly go wrong? Only the absolute worst nightmare for our protagonists. Right from the start, the landscape completely shifted. Steve Jobs, the ultimate authority at Pixar, passed away in 2011. Lasseter was still the face of the studio, but he was no longer the impenetrable protective shield against Disney. Without Jobs, the parent company once again had the absolute final say, and the corporation wanted Toy Story 4. Lasseter fundamentally disagreed. To him, Toy Story 3 had wrapped up the story in an absolutely perfect way. He fought against the idea for years. So many years, in fact, that nearly a decade would pass before its eventual release. When he finally realized that Iger wasn't going to change his mind, he decided that he would at least try to ensure it lived up to the franchise's legendary standard. That's why he chose to step up and direct it completely solo, just like he did with the very first installment. But how do you even pick up that story and those characters again? The pressure quickly mounted both internally and externally. When the project was officially announced in 2014, it generated very little enthusiasm, and detractors quickly resurfaced to accuse Pixar of taking the easy way out by relying on cheap sequels. Lasseter ignored the noise and kept working closely with his team. He decided to explore the romantic relationship between Woody and Bo Peep, the porcelain shepherdess. The idea definitely had potential, but it just wasn't enough to carry an entire movie. He thought he had found the perfect voices to flesh it out in Rashida Jones and Will McCormack, an acting and screenwriting duo specializing in romantic comedies. The early pages thrilled him, leading the studio to confidently announce a release date for 2017. Which would never actually happen, but we'll get to that in a moment. In early 2015, the development of Toy Story 4 seemed to be moving along smoothly. Lasseter easily brought back Hanks and Allen, although he soon had to make a very tough decision. His duties overseeing every single project across both Pixar and Disney were completely exhausting, and he realized he simply couldn't direct the movie alone. He also no longer had his usual trusted crew at his disposal. Dr. Stanton and Unkrik were all tied up with other films. Stanton was able to help out a bit with the script, but not much more. So Lasseter looked toward rising talent within the studio, and selected Josh Cooley, who was fresh off his role as head of story on Inside Out. For Cooley, it was a massive opportunity, and an even more massive source of pressure. But that wouldn't even be the biggest problem. Throughout 2016, Lasseter reviewed draft after draft from Jones and McCormack, but absolutely none of them convinced him. The story focused on Woody and his search for Bo Peep, operating much like a classic romantic comedy, far removed from the grand group adventures of the past. It was technically exactly what he had asked for, but something was just undeniably missing. This creative roadblock forced Disney to push the release date back to 2018. In early 2017, Jones and McCormack completely abandoned the production, although the news didn't immediately leak to the press. The pre-production shakeups for Toy Story 4 were far from over. Lasseter felt completely overwhelmed, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to focus his attention on just one movie. He eventually recognized that his own lack of bandwidth could end up hurting the project, so he was forced to delegate the directing duties once again. He stepped back to remain solely as a producer, officially handing the reins to Cooley and giving him the chance to make his feature directorial debut. But the gravest problems for Toy Story 4 hadn't even begun yet. In October 2017, the Me Too movement swept across the globe, with actors and other Hollywood professionals stepping forward to expose the inappropriate behavior of powerful figures within the industry. All of the cascading revelations shocked the public, but none rocked the animation world quite like the allegations involving Lasseter. According to the reports, the director had a history of giving unwanted hugs and engaging in other conduct that made female employees at Pixar deeply uncomfortable. Lasseter's response was swift. He sent out an internal memo where he admitted to his missteps, apologized to anyone who felt disrespected, and immediately took a six-month leave of absence. The accusations against Lasseter had a massive, destabilizing impact. It was only during this fallout that the media finally caught wind of the secret departure of Jones and McCormack, naturally prompting journalists to ask Rashida Jones if she had been the victim of any inappropriate behavior. The screenwriter clarified that she had left the project solely due to creative and philosophical differences. However, she did take aim at the studio as a whole, accusing Pixar of harboring a corporate culture where female and minority voices were systematically ignored. Jones' powerful statement only worsened the internal crisis at Disney and Pixar. When Lasseter's six-month leave was up, Bob Iger ultimately decided that his presence was far too toxic for the company's image and culture, and opted not to renew his contract. The man who had built Toy Story from the absolute ground up was officially ousted from the company and completely separated from his own creation. And with that, he also permanently exits our story. Faced with this grim landscape, Toy Story 4 could have easily suffered the exact same fate as Lasseter: total cancellation. The media and the fans were fully bracing themselves for the news, and many honestly believed it might be for the best. However, Disney and Pixar decided to push forward, the corporate machine simply could not be stopped. They also set a firm, brand-new release date: June 21, 2019, and absolutely nothing, and no one was going to change it. Now, the entire weight of the production fell squarely on Cooley's shoulders. From one moment to the next, he had gone from being a first-time co-director to the sole leader of one of the most important franchises in cinematic history. And the conditions were far from ideal: he had barely two years to rebuild a movie that many already considered entirely unnecessary, or downright doomed. Even so, he decided to face the challenge head-on, backed by the unwavering support of Hanks, Allen, and the dedicated team of animators. Cooley's very first step was to scrap roughly 75% of the existing script. He brought in a new screenwriter, Stephanie Folsom, and together, they completely reworked the material. They kept the core premise of Woody, but they added a deep, existential conflict regarding his identity. He no longer lives solely to satisfy a child. Instead, he begins searching for a new path and purpose in life. To act as the catalyst for these heavy questions, they conceptualized a brand-new friend for the protagonists: Forky, a makeshift toy cobbled together from literal trash. He was an object that fundamentally didn't understand why he even existed, but who somehow became the emotional center of everything. Without even trying to, the movie was perfectly mirroring its own turbulent production process, a story that many weren't sure had any real reason to exist, yet kept stumbling forward anyway. Despite the immense pressure and endless difficulties, Toy Story 4 landed in theaters on June 21, 2019, and grossed a staggering $1.074 billion, becoming the highest-grossing film in the entire franchise. Cooley and his team breathed a massive sigh of relief. They had survived an exhausting 10-year epic of constant conflict. But while Disney celebrated their shiny new blockbuster, Cooley didn't have quite as many reasons to celebrate. A large portion of the audience and critics acknowledged Pixar and Disney's sheer ability to keep the franchise alive. However, many in the industry were now giving the corporate giants the side-eye, and a significant segment of the audience simply didn't show much interest. Some felt that both studios were just out to make a quick buck, entirely forgetting what made the early films so incredibly special in the first place. And since we already brought up Quentin Tarantino, the director publicly stated that he flat-out refuses to even watch the fourth film. He firmly believes the saga ended flawlessly with Toy Story 3. The story could easily end right here, but we all know how this goes. Slowly but surely, we have finally arrived at the present day. If you thought the controversy surrounding Toy Story 4 was a lot to handle, just wait until you hear what happened when Disney announced Toy Story 5. The Toy Story franchise had navigated all kinds of obstacles, but now it hit a completely different kind of wall. The saga simply didn't know when to stop. Before jumping into the fifth installment, Disney tried to expand the universe with what seemed like a ridiculously safe bet: Lightyear, a spin-off about the real character who inspired the Space Ranger toy. Released in 2022, the film became embroiled in ridiculous controversy over a brief kiss between two female characters and ultimately bombed at the box office. For the very first time, the Toy Story brand was no longer a guaranteed success. Over at Disney, the anxiety spiked. Lightyear wasn't an isolated incident. Several recent productions from both Walt Disney Animation and Pixar were heavily misfiring with audiences and critics alike. Desperate to reverse this losing streak, Bob Iger officially announced Toy Story 5 in February 2023. Shortly after, a firm release date was confirmed, June 19, 2026. Inside the halls of Pixar, the exact same question that haunted the fourth installment resurfaced: How do you resume a franchise that felt so definitively concluded? And there was another massive issue: Pixar had undergone severe structural changes. The battle-tested veterans now occupied the executive suites, and the fresh crop of animators simply lacked the necessary mileage. Right in the middle of this painful transition came a devastating blow. In May 2024, the company suffered the largest wave of layoffs in its entire history, cutting 14% of its workforce, amounting to roughly 175 employees. Among those let go was Galen Suzman, the very same woman whose personal computer had famously saved Toy Story 2 from disappearing completely. In turn, Disney aggressively doubled down on its new corporate strategy, prioritizing highly profitable movies based exclusively on recognizable IPs. And within that master plan, Toy Story remained their ultimate crown jewel. The landscape looked incredibly uncertain for Toy Story 5, until the heroes of the old guard rode to the rescue. Pete Docter had since replaced Lasseter as chief creative officer, so he decided to focus his attention directly on the project to ensure it maintained Pixar's classic standard of quality. To achieve this, he called in Andrew Stanton. This time around, Stanton wouldn't just be helping out with the script. For the very first time, he would actually take the director's chair for a film in the main saga. Absolutely no one at Disney opposed the idea. His masterful work on finding Nemo and Wally was more than enough proof of his directorial genius. Plus, for Bob Iger, it was a surefire way to secure the winning team from the original trilogy back on board. Wasting no time, Stanton and his team devised a plot perfectly tailored to the modern era. Now, the toys find themselves facing an existential threat from the Lily Pad, a brand new tablet gifted to Bonnie. Desperate not to lose their owner's attention, Buzz and the rest of the gang reach out to Woody, who is more than ready to step up and help his friends once again. Neither the director nor anyone else at Pixar openly admitted that they were drawing a direct, meta-parallel to their own current, real-world situation. How to avoid being completely left behind by flashy new forms of entertainment, and how to prove they still matter when absolutely everything around them is rapidly evolving. The first teasers for Toy Story 5 brought smiles to the faces of kids and day one fans alike. But the general consensus is glaringly obvious. A lot of people think Disney has completely ruined the franchise. They point out that the magic is lost forever, and all that matters now is the almighty dollar sign. They also know that if the box office returns are massive once again, Woody, Buzz, and their friends will just keep on living indefinitely. Maybe this time it actually will be interesting to explore how screens and technology are taking over modern childhood, seen through the eyes of its ultimate representatives, the toys. But it's a cold, hard fact that Disney shareholders care very little about raising awareness or sending a message. Today, Toy Story has gone from being the absolute revolution of animated cinema to existing, primarily just to print money. But what do you guys think? Do you believe Toy Story should have ended with the third installment? Or are you on board with it continuing? Are you going to watch the new movie? And if you made it to the end of the video, you already know that a well-told story makes all the difference. Remember to subscribe to the channel and share the video so we can keep bringing you this level of quality. See you next time. Listen to this. Steven Spielberg sent the script for this movie to NASA, and NASA responded with a 20-page letter begging him to cancel the project.