Justin Chang

A lot has happened since the first Toy Story in 1995 when a cowboy sheriff doll named Woody, voiced by Tom Hanks, worried that a space ranger action figure named Buzz Lightyear, voiced by Tim Allen, would replace him in the affections of their young owner, Andy.

Every Toy Story since has touched on similar themes, about the fickleness of kids, the inevitability of change, and the totemic power of the toys we grew up playing with.

By the end of Toy Story 4, Woody himself had decided to move on.

Along with his beloved Bo Peep, he set off into the wild and embraced the life of a lost toy, leaving Buzz and their friends in the care of their new owner, a sweet girl named Bonnie.

As someone who was pretty mixed on Toy Story 4, I can't say I was looking forward to yet another sequel, which just goes to show you should always keep an open mind.

Toy Story 5 is a significant improvement, and at its best, a delight.

Things seem to be going well for Bonnie and her toys as the movie gets underway, but of course, it's only a matter of time before a new phase of childhood begins, bringing with it a fresh threat to the toy's idyllic existence.

Bonnie's having trouble finding friends her age to play with, and that's because the other kids in her neighborhood are all glued to their screens.

Nobody cares about toys anymore.

It's all about digital tablets and other devices, with their games, group chats, and virtual worlds.

Sure enough, when her parents buy her a frog-themed tablet named LilyPad, Bonnie is immediately hooked.

In this scene, Jessie the cowgirl ragdoll, voiced as ever by Joan Cusack, confronts Lilypad, who's sharply voiced by Greta Lee from past lives.

First dance, honey.

This concerns me ethically.

The movie was directed and co-written by Andrew Stanton, who has mocked the perils of too much screen time before in his 2008 Pixar classic, WALL-E.

I suspect that Toy Story 5 will strike a chord with any parent who, like me, has ever yelled at their kids to get off the iPad and read a book.

Ingeniously, the film takes one of the foundational ideas of the Toy Story universe, that inanimate objects can secretly think and move by themselves, and uses it to tap into our paranoia about what our devices might be doing when we're not looking.

rest assured that this is still a Pixar movie, so there's a limit to just how dystopian things will get.

Thankfully, Bonnie doesn't fall victim to an internet stalker, though she does learn a valuable lesson about bullying and peer pressure.

Lily, eager to boost Bonnie's social standing, connects her with some other girls online, and even starts sending texts and images without Bonnie's knowledge.