"Four stores and many Christmases ago, my father brought forth a factory conceived in innocence and joy and squeezable fun for everyone."
Leslie Zevo (Robin Williams)
You'd think that a movie called "Toys" that premiered at theaters exactly one week before Christmas would be a sure thing.
And yet Barry Levinson's "Toys," which starred Robin Williams and made its debut on this day in 1992, failed to make back half of its budget.
Perhaps, all evidence to the contrary, that is because "Toys" really wasn't a children's movie. It created a whimsical world, much like, say, "Willy Wonka" did, but it used simple childhood experiences and memories to make more complex and mature points.
A kooky toymaker (Donald O'Connor) was at death's door, and he knew it, but he had to decide who should inherit his toy empire. He didn't feel his children (Williams and Joan Cusack) were ready for the responsibility so he decided to leave it to his brother (Michael Gambon), a military general. He wasn't really suited for it; Williams' character had more in common with his father and would have made a better choice. He would have been more likely to represent continuity in the operation of the business.
Well, that was my opinion. (Of course, if the producers had done things in the way that made sense to me, they wouldn't have had a story to tell.)
For example, when the old man finally died, Williams and Cusack opted not to ride in a limousine to the graveside service, choosing instead to ride in their father's car — a bumper car.
It's the sort of thing their father would have done.
But their uncle was a different kind of guy. Frustrated by a career in the military that fell short of his expectations, he agreed to take over the toy factory when his brother died (after consulting with his father, played by Jack Warden in a very limited role) and made his biracial son (rapper LL Cool J) his second in command. He decided to run the factory in a very military way, cracking down on leaks and inaugurating the production of war toys.
That was important because his brother objected to war toys, wouldn't make them in his factory, and Williams' character had inherited that predisposition, it seemed.
The movie seemed to lose its direction, though. Critic Roger Ebert summed it up this way: "The opening scenes create a completely original world, and then the second half of the film invades that world, not with fresh imagination but with tired old conflicts. What are we to make of a world where the battle against war toys is carried out ... by programming peaceful toys to fight?"
It's even more bewildering when you realize how prescient "Toys" was. Several years before most people had heard of virtual reality, "Toys" introduced them to the concept.
"Toys" also introduced viewers to drones — again, many years before they became commonplace.
As always Robin Wright was pretty and charming, and there was an authentic quality to her down–home accent. I guess you could expect that, seeing as she was born in Dallas, but she was raised in San Diego. Maybe that's where she picked up her dolphin imitation.
In its way, I guess "Toys" was kind of a "Peter Pan" story for its generation. It was, more than anything, a tale about those who refuse to grow up — and those who are determined to drag them, kicking and screaming, into the adult world anyway.
Something's gotta give.
