Inside Out

This week I’ve been watching Inside Out

In 2014 Kevin Brook’s The Bunker Diary was award the Carnegie Medal for children’s literature. Dealing as it does with the topic of child abduction and imprisonment, the book was met with hostility by the conservative press; the Telegraph even opined: ‘why wish this book on a child?’

Brook, however, is no anomaly. You only have to look at the success of Darwinist dystopia, The Hunger Games and courtship with cancer drama, The Fault In Our Stars to acknowledge the predilection of writers to present stark and dark worlds to children is becoming more and more prevalent. In fact with children growing more and more intrigued by death, we are now in the quite farcical position where those who have done the most reading, and are most prepared for it, are those who must wait longest for it.

The success of these books begs such questions as: is the young’s fascination with mortality new? Is it healthy? If not, should we be like the catcher in the rye, doing what we can to stop children from falling into experience by holding onto their innocence for dear life?

The answers are no, yes and maybe. Children have always thought about mortality from a young age: they have mourned pets for millennia; grieved grandparents for aeons; and faced up to the reality that, with Zayn leaving, One Direction aren’t going to last forever. Therefore, it is entirely healthy children ask questions about these big topics, and parents should feel relieved there are great books and films that make the task of answering them a little easier. So no, it’s no bad thing children are consuming these themes as long as they’re handled sensitively.

Zayn, how could you?

This brings me to Pixar.

Pixar, the American computer animation studio, have been making movies for children that cover themes of loneliness, fear and death for nearly twenty years. And these haven’t been aimed at teens like the aforementioned books, rather children just in school. The bravery in addressing these issues head on can be seen through three of their films: Finding Nemo, Up and Inside Out. Within the first moment of Nemo, Nemo’s mother, Coral, is dead. In Up the death scene is prolonged to five minutes: the first four document the bud and bloom of Carl and Ellie’s love, whereas the last shows Ellie’s demise and Carl’s subsequent loneliness. Significantly, Up shows human death on screen: something typically avoided in children’s animation. We all remember Bambi’s mother being killed by a deer-hunter, and Mufasa being fed to the wildebeests but these deaths were couched in the comfort blanket of animals. Death was something that happened to deers; something that befell lions; it didn’t touch humans. Up was a film that said death is human, that it is tremendously sad, that salvation only comes in allowing others to share that grief. It was a beautifully wrought piece of cinema.

Inside Out goes one step further by making the character who goes through the big questions the same age as its target audience. Riley is the central protagonist: a well mannered, eleven-year old from the Midwest, beloved by her friends and family. All of this changes though when she is uprooted from her home and moved 2000 miles west to San Francisco. “The City by the Bay” though is only a secondary setting: the main setting is Riley’s brain, stationed and manned by her five principal emotions: Joy, Sadness, Disgust, Fear and Anger. With the setting being an internal landscape and the characters being abstract concepts, this children’s movie could be described as 'Inception meets Fifteenth Century Morality Play.' (As disappointed as I am Pixar didn’t opt for this tagline, I understand why they went for the child-friendly: ‘Everyday is full of emotions.’)

Why didn't they go for my tagline?

To make a children’s movie about the ego and subconscious could only ever be achieved by a studio renowned for its innovation and daring. Pete Docter, the co-writer and director, explained how the idea for the film came to him when he noticed how difficult his daughter found the transition to high school: she had gone from being outgoing to reclusive, unable to communicate why. The desire to get into a child’s head to understand their concerns must be one all parents share; the frustration in this being unachievable can be all too difficult to bear. So Docter achieved in art what was impossible in life and got into the head of a child: the results on screen are staggering.

The film begins in the beginning with Riley’s birth. Joy’s voiceover beautifully and succinctly shows how happinesses monopoly is short-lived; that it isn’t long before the market is opened up and other emotions move in.

[Joy makes Riley laugh for the first time]

Joy: [voiceover] It was amazing! Just Riley and me, forever.
[Riley suddenly starts crying]Joy: [voiceover] Um, for thirty-three seconds.
[Joy looks down, and sees Sadness operating Riley's control panel]Sadness: I'm Sadness.
Joy: Oh, hello! Uh, I'm Joy. So, could I just... If you could... I just wanna fix that. Thanks.
[Joy nudges Sadness aside and tries to push the button, only for Sadness to nudge back and push the button again]Joy: [voiceover] And that was just the beginning! Headquarters only got more crowded from there.

The power struggle between Joy and Sadness is the central conflict of the movie. Joy wants desperately for Riley to be happy at all times, loading up positive memories whenever sadness threatens her. Sadness, on the other hand, feels compelled to fulfil her duty and make Riley experience melancholy’s rain cloud. Although the other characters are used more as a foil for the other two, there is a hilarious scene where they all come together to elucidate the mystery of the high chair tantrum:

Disgust: Okay, caution, there is a dangerous smell people. Hold on, what is that? That is not brightly colored or shaped like a dinosaur, hold on guys... it's... broccoli![presses buttons]Riley: Yukee!
[flips bowl of broccoli on dad]Disgust: Well, I just saved our lives. Yeah, you're welcome.
Dad: Riley, if you don't eat your dinner you're not gonna get any desert.
Anger: Wait, did he just say we couldn't have dessert?
[paces angrily]Anger: So that's how you wanna play it old man? No dessert? Oh sure, we'll eat our dinner, right after you eat THIS!
[presses buttons]Riley: [Starts crying and screaming]
Dad: Riley, Riley, here comes an airplane.
Anger: Oh, airplane. We got an airplane everybody.
Joy: Ooooh!
[Riley eats broccoli]

The way the emotions are colourful and distinguishable makes the film accessible and enjoyable to young people, and the observational humour of getting children to take their greens is one that obviously appeals to adults. Some may criticise Pixar for making films so geared to parents but given half the audience is likely to be adults I think it’s only right they have a few laughs too. Perhaps, a fairer criticism would be: is this particular film too geared to adults? 

Riley's brain.

Following a workplace disaster, Sadness and Joy find themselves outside the main control room, forced to walk the hinterland of Riley’s subconscious; here they learn the only way back is via the locomotive ‘Train of Thought’ which can only be accessed via worlds as colourful as ‘Imagination’ and dense as ‘Abstract Thought.’ Clearly, an adult is going to get more from this trawl around the brain than a child; however, where the young might miss out on the minutiae of psychology, they enjoy the spectacle of seeing two characters – like Buzz and Woody – trying to get home. More than that, the film goes between the inner and outer world of Riley, meaning children will find it very easy to follow Riley’s external world- introducing herself to her new class, sitting alone at break, struggling to adapt to her new room – even if they find the internal setting quite complex. (Parents who read the blog and watch the film, feel free to write a comment and say how your child felt watching it; it would be interesting to know whether Pixar succeeded in making its animated lecture- ‘Moving school: the psychological impact of forced displacement’ enjoyable for both you and your child.)

To conclude, I think our great writers and filmmakers know what they're doing when it comes to presenting challenging material to young audiences. But if Pixar release a feature length on a self-harming giraffe then ignore everything I've said: childhood is over; Pixar is to blame.

Inside Out is in all good - and bad - cinemas now.