If there is a soulless opposite to the joyous creativity of Pixar’s early master works, it is- actually, it is probably still Cars, a seemingly cynical exercise in marketing toy cars to children. A close second, however, is likely to be Lightyear (2022). It is an odd, confusing sort of thing. I would argue its root problem is that it is ill-conceived from the basic principles. In 1995’s Toy Story, Buzz Lightyear was a toy come to life who believed himself to be the ‘real’ space-faring hero of some unseen movie franchise. In 2022’s Lightyear, we are in effect seeing that fictional science fiction film for the first time.

It is a poorly conceived idea. The appeal of the original Buzz Lightyear, played by Tim Allen, was in his delusion that he was actually a ‘space ranger’ and not a child’s plaything. The excess of personality, the ridiculous bravado, and the inflexible certainty of his identity all made him an enjoyably comic protagonist – and well balanced against Ton Hank’s over-stressed, worrisome Woody. It was a classic comedy double act, and while Buzz’s delusion only held to the climax of that first film the comedy team-up worked well for another three sequels.

The Buzz Lightyear of this new spin-off, directed by Angus MacLane, is neither deluded nor comedic. He is a classic science fiction hero embarking on a dangerous adventure. All of the elements that made the Toy Story Buzz enjoyable to watch have been stripped from him. Even Buzz’s voice has shifted from Allen’s light-hearted enthusiasm to Chris Evan’s stoic, more reserved attempt. Anything interesting about the character has been stripped from him, and what is left is a by-the-numbers science fiction film with a plot already mined out by generations of earlier movies.

The answer to why Pixar Animation Studios would embark on such a weirdly generic enterprise is depressing and obvious. Toy Story was a merchandise and licensing gold mine, while the ongoing narrative of the films reached a natural end point not once but twice – in the third and fourth films. Lightyear enables the production of further adventures for a Buzz, even if it is not the original Buzz. In theory, it sustains the generation of toys, video games, and other commercial exploits for another three or four years.

Perhaps I am being wholly unfair to the company. It very well may be that there was a strong interest in extending the character for creative reasons, and to utilise him to expand into a more mature style of animated feature. This would not explain why it feels so perfunctory and disinterested in its own content. The last time I felt so disappointed by a Pixar film was, predictably, John Lassetter’s Cars trilogy – which seemed to flounder creatively but which generated one of the highest-selling brands for boys toys of all time.

Pixar released two feature films in 2022: this one received a worldwide theatrical release, and generated a raft of action figures, Hot Wheels cars, and Lego sets that continue to warm department store pegs across the globe. The other was Turning Red: an inspired original story that was beautifully animated, but which was relegated directly to Disney+ with no merchandising despite a world of commercial potential. Whether it was Pixar that made the choice, or Walt Disney that made it for them, it was the wrong move – and I suspect a lot of revenue has been left on the table as a result. It makes Lightyear a double failure in a way, since even accepting its sole purpose is to make money it has struggled to succeed.

The filmmakers that created Pixar’s greatest creative successes – Toy Story 2, Monsters Inc, Finding Nemo, Ratatouille, Wall-E – would never have made Lightyear. The legacy for inventiveness and quality that marked the studio’s first two decades is perilously close to becoming a distant memory, unless they and Disney stop releasing mediocre works like this and do a better job of promoting those like Turning Red.