Toys

Anybody who remembers vinyl records will also most likely recall a time when toys had a certain innocence to them; simple creations to inspire creativity and fire the imagination, rather than thinly veiled propaganda for television shows, movies or worse – protagonists for a world filled with warring little boys or for little girls to grow up into conformist, stereotyped consume-at-all-costs automatons.

Happy workers.

Set in expansive fields of seemingly endless green, Zevo Toys firmly believe in those glory days of childhood playthings, steadfastly adhering to a tradition of whimsy and escapism in their line of gorgeous tin toys, dolls and assorted four-wheeled doohickies. All is not well, however, as owner Kenneth Zevo is a very ailing old man. Not convinced his son, Leslie (Robin Williams), is ready to take over the reins, and having certain other reasons for feeling the same about his weird sammich loving daughter Alsatia (Joan Cusack), he calls in his three-star general brother (Michael Gambon), cursed with British accent and all, to take command. After all, the military isn’t what it once was, especially after Communism fell in the toilet. He enlists his covert operations specialist, military man son, Patrick (LL Cool J) and sets about continuing the family tradition of toy making, albeit with a somewhat different and more malevolent aim – the furtive development of cheap, miniature weaponry for the U.S. government. The conflicting ideals go together much like Lego bits with Meccano.

"Dad didn’t like the idea of war toys – he thought that war was the domain of the small penis."

The mourning begins...

With this new threat and Zevo’s happy workers leaving in droves, this is the time for Leslie to stand up and be counted, and stand up he does to spearhead a counter strike against his uncle’s nasty-pastie plans – fighting fire with marshmallows as it were. Throw in a rather capricious love story and some of the most mind-bogglingly stunning production design ever created and that’s basically it – a delightfully simple, kind-hearted (well, on one side) battle of good versus evil, and a metaphor for the utter futility of war if you’re prepared to think just a little further past all the remarkably pretty scenery and rainbow-touched costumes.

The Last Temptation of Barbie.

It’s an absolute mystery to some of us why Toys garnered such utter vitriol from the majority of critics and the public upon release in 1992. A vision of director/writer Barry Levinson dating back way before his many late ‘80s successes, it seems many just couldn’t deal with the sheer simplicity of the tale and its ideals in a time when innocence and compassion are seen as weaknesses rather than strengths. With a performance from Williams which balances his manic and schmaltzy extremes perfectly, the criminally underrated Joan Cusack bringing joy to every frame she appears in and many a familiar face in the supporting cast, given a chance Toys offers up a lot to like.

QUACK!

Such a visually striking film deserves a visually striking transfer – instead we kind of get half of one. Delivered in its cinematic ratio of 1.85:1 and anamorphically enhanced, visually things are a bit odd in the DVD world of Toys - and we’re talking transfer oddness which has nothing to do with the story.

All importantly colour comes up a treat, beautifully saturated without heading into the sort of territory that sees our retinas bleeding. Blacks are OK, and even those bits where things go on in the shadows don’t leave us leaning forward and squinting in order to work out just what the hell’s going on. So what about the oddness? Well, at times the image is remarkably sharp and detailed, whilst at others it tends towards the soft and squishy – but this isn’t the worst problem. An effect which can only be described as something like the telecine machine careening over speed humps occurs around half a dozen times – the image just skips up the screen and lollops down again in a fleeting second, which is remarkably distracting and annoying. There’s a little fine grain at times, although film artefacts are rare, but they are quite noticeable in their chunkiness when they do appear – still, at least the layer change has been placed well, it occurs on a fade to black and will probably be unnoticed by most viewers.

Destroy him my robotsthhhhh...

A reasonably engaging Dolby Digital 5.1 mix has been provided, which at times certainly earns its keep. Whilst the front speakers often carry the bulk of the film’s goings-on, louder periods of the film – both of the musical and crash, boom, bang varieties - open things up quite gloriously, with the rears bursting to life and the subwoofwoof having a decent old bark, while all is well synched throughout.

The music - a collaboration between Hans Zimmer and English producer Trevor Horn - means we’re in for a bit of a treat, even if a lot of it is predictably a combination of African rhythms and lushly over-the-top production (plus the odd Frankie Goes to Hollywood sample or two). The voices of artists such as Tori Amos, Thomas Dolby, Wendy & Lisa – and, of course, Yolanda and Steve – all pop up at various points, along with one of the weirdest uses of Nessun Dorma you’re ever likely to experience.

Oh look, they're on the ceiling, too!

Sadly, a search for extras is like opening that huge box under the Christmas tree and finding it filled with nothing but air. While the region 1 release had animated menus, a brief featurette and a selection of trailers – some of which were magnificent examples of Robin Williams going off tap filmed specially (“I’ll be back… wind meeeeee…�) and the old Laserdisc even features a collection of production design paintings and stills, all we get here is a generic Fox menu with zip, zero, nada in the way of bonus goodies. It seems the Grinch is alive and well and under the employ of Fox, budget release or not…

Underneath the surface silliness, Toys is possibly the most colourful paean to the abject futility of war ever created. Anybody who rues the world’s loss of innocence should find much to rejoice in within - just don’t expect a fabulous DVD treatment, ‘cos we sure as all heck don’t get one.