Inside Out

Inside Out, Disney/Pixar's latest animated feature, tells the story of Riley, a young girl on the cusp of adolescence who moves with her parents to a different city and starts attending a new school, leaving her old life and friends behind. These are big events, to be sure, but most of the film's real action takes place inside Riley's brain. Inside Out's central conceit is that all humans are controlled by five distinct personified (and color-coded) emotions—Joy, Sadness, Fear, Anger, and Disgust—who take turns at the helm of the mind they inhabit, controlling the actions of their human host from a central “headquarters.” Before Riley moves, her dominant emotion is Joy (voiced by Amy Poehler), but her new and less idyllic environment presents emotional challenges that threaten her mind's structural integrity. And so the plucky, indefatigable Joy embarks on a mission to help her beloved Riley survive the difficult transitions she faces without losing the qualities that make her special.

For many reasons, I was skeptical about Inside Out for the first five or ten minutes of the film. It's certainly not Pixar's most original or imaginative concept: portraying the human brain and other organs as industrial systems manned by a staff of microscopic workers dates back at least as far as Woody Allen’s 1972 film Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* (*But Were Afraid to Ask), not to mention the '90s sitcom Herman's Head. Disney movies have a lengthy tradition of endowing everything—from animals, to toys, to computer programs—with human characteristics so it’s only natural to extend the same treatment to more abstract entities like emotions. But depicting the brain as a factory or elaborate vehicle directed from the inside by anthropomorphized beings with minds of their own unintentionally creates a mechanized view of humanity. It can deprive the sentient host of the nuances of character, not to mention free will. As Poehler’s expository voiceover laid out the central premise, I feared the movie might play like a feature-length version of an EPCOT Center exhibit: serving up complex scientific ideas to kids in whimsical ways that are oversimplified, factually dubious, and often embarrassingly out of date.

But my concerns soon evaporated. The film avoids all the obvious pitfalls and jumps nimbly from one inventive idea or gag to the next.  Director/co-writer Pete Docter (Monsters, Inc., Up) and his team never attempt to explain the science of how human feelings and impulses actually operate on a neurological level. Instead, the film works as a metaphor for the fundamental human need to maintain balance in our emotions, both positive and negative. This allegorical approach means the movie will not become more and more dated as the scientific understanding of brain function develops. Free from any pedantic agenda, Docter et al. weave a timeless, moving narrative with characters we really care about.

That's an especially impressive feat considering that these characters aren't human, or even cute animals or beloved toys. Credit Poehler as much as the creative team for making a endearing protagonist out of the abstract concept of joy. Similarly, the comics and comedic actors who voice the other pixie-like emotions transcend their own schtick to create fully realized characters. Name-brand talents like Bill Hader (Fear), Lewis Black (Anger), Mindy Kaling (Disgust), and Phyllis Smith (Sadness) each receive just the right amount of screen time from the adept Pixar team, who don't overuse them the way the folks at Dreamworks Animation would have. I expected the manic, scene-stealing Fear to eventually take center stage, and for Hader to wear out his welcome, but when things begin to go wrong for Riley, it’s actually Smith’s deadpan Sadness who begins to assert herself in the control room. The least confident of Riley’s emotions, Sadness can’t help compromising the girl's happy memories, shaking the foundation of Riley's mindscape and threatening to create a psychological breakdown. She can't be trusted alone, so Joy takes her along on a quest that leads them away from the familiar headquarters to the inner reaches of Riley's mental terrain. At first, the two share a predictable odd-couple dynamic, but their relationship gradually morphs into something surprisingly deep and meaningful.

As they venture ever farther on their “fantastic voyage,” Joy and Sadness encounter many of the secondary characters that populate Riley’s inner workings. Each of these creatures (voiced by familiar vocal talents including a delightful cameo from Muppeteers Frank Oz and Dave Goelz) either serve a minor but important function in the brain or is a left over from an earlier stage of childhood. The most memorable personage Joy and Sadness come across is Bing Bong (Richard Kind), a long-forgotten imaginary friend from the toddler years. Bing Bong becomes both an ally and obstacle as the tiny heroes thread their way through the maze of Riley’s mind and try to get back home to headquarters.

Like Up, Inside Out might appeal less to children than to adults, and especially parents, but that’s a refreshing change of pace for a family movie. And there's plenty for kids to love too. Riley (Kaitlyn Dias) and her mom and dad (Diane Lane, Kyle MacLachlan) feel even more real than Andy and his family in Pixar's Toy Story movies. In fact, they'd stack up convincingly against the characters in most contemporary live-action films, and their scenes are commendably free of cloying, simpleminded sentiment.

Pixar animators excel at keenly observing human behavior and then rendering it digitally. True to form, the Inside Out team does a remarkable job of conveying the way adolescents navigate their world. The film succeeds because, even though Riley is an athletic, middle-class white girl with two loving parents and a new house in one of the most expensive real estate markets in the country, her struggles feel tangible, genuine, and legitimate. Identifying with Riley is effortless, and so is rooting for Joy to prevail.

The film’s pacing is surprisingly patient and agile, which is more than I can say for previous Pixar efforts (like the insufferably relentless Finding Nemo). So many animated films rush through their narratives, panicking that they'll bore the kids in the audience, but by contemporary standers Inside Out is downright leisurely. Like all great quest pictures, there are as many lows as there are highs. Moments of tension and excitement are followed by quiet, contemplative sequences where the heroes rest, regroup, and reassess their approach to their goal. I expected the premise to run out of gas by the halfway point, but the film gets ever richer and more intriguing as it progresses. The film explores pre-adolescent emotions with intelligence and wit, without devolving into a morass of pop-psychology tropes. It stands out as one of Pixar’s best pictures.