Woody, a fascist: A contemporary reading of Toy Story

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Toy Story is a fantastic film, let me say that straight away. Indeed, the first 3 films are considered one of the finest trilogies in all cinematic history and there is no doubting that they have had a profound effect on many people all over the world. And yes, Woody – the upstanding sheriff of smalltown Americana – has a character development arc across those three films that is up there with any of the other redemptive narratives that we’ve seen in many decades (although Lt. Gorman’s ultimate sacrifice in Aliens for me is the apotheosis).

But all redemption stories require an origin, and way back in 1995 when Toy Story first hit our screens, there is no getting away from the fact that Woody is a fascist. A wannabe dictator, emperor and conduit to the sovereign god of toys, Andy. He’s more than just the ‘sheriff’ cop of the toy community (indeed as Toy Story 2 exposes, he’s a collectable). Woody positions himself as the self-anointed conduit between Andy the toys. Woody’s self-proclaimed unique proximity to Andy becomes the central basis of his authority, rendering him not only an authoritarian figure but also one who formulates his legitimacy through a quasi-divine relationship to the power in the room: the ultimate power to make all toys motionless and submissive, Andy.

In the world of Andy’s room, the toys exist to serve Andy’s happiness, and their entire existence revolves around his desires, whims and his imagination; they are created in his image. Andy, therefore, is the god-like sovereign figure within the toy society, and Woody places himself in the role of Andy’s chief intermediary. It is this relationship with Andy that Woody leverages to justify his dominance over the other toys. He interprets his proximity to Andy as a divine mandate, making him not just a leader, but the chosen one to mediate Andy’s will.

Woody’s identity is inseparable from his status as Andy’s favourite toy, a position he perceives as not only privileged, but ordained. His closeness to Andy is never questioned, and it forms the basis of his legitimacy creating a closed loop of power that can never be delegitimised. Woody’s claim to this divine leadership rests on the assertion that he alone understands Andy’s needs and desires, making him indispensable to both the toys and their sovereign. His authority is thus constructed through a hierarchy where Andy is omnipotent, and Woody is his chosen emissary. Woody’s positioning as Andy’s favoured toy grants him extraordinary influence over the other toys, as they accept his role as the closest figure to their god. His authority is never based on merit or consensus but on proximity and favour, and in some respects his charm, his attitude, his charisma.

In this way then, the molten core of Woody’s leadership is a Hobbesian fear of chaos: Woody is a Leviathan. Hobbes famously described the state of nature as a “war of all against all”, where without a strong sovereign, society would collapse into violent anarchy. Woody has totally internalized this worldview, if without his leadership, the toy society would descend into disorder. He has control of the military, the political decision-making, the economy and everything else in Andy’s room.

His leviathanical control (ordained by Andy of course) is thus justified through fear: fear of what might happen if his authoritarian hand is removed by the arrival of any ‘new’ toys (on Andy’s birthday). Woody’s Hobbesian fascistic tendencies manifests in his need to maintain the status quo at all costs, interpreting any potential disruption, especially in the form of the Other – Buzz Lightyear – as a fundamental threat to the very fabric of the toy community. Woody’s famous line when Buzz falls out of the window, “It’s a toy eat toy world,” is the perfect crystallization of his Hobbesian perspective. He perceives the world as a brutal arena where the toys must be managed and controlled – violently if needed – or else they will turn on one another.

Indeed, Woody’s reaction to Buzz Lightyear, the new arrival in Andy’s room, offers a critical insight into his fascist instincts. Buzz represents a challenge to Woody’s privileged position as Andy’s favourite, and Woody’s immediate hostility reveals his fear of any outsider who might disrupt the established hierarchy. Woody’s knowledge of Andy is also immediately called into question, Buzz’s very presence indicates that Woody does not know Andy as well as he thought, and hence the new arrival threatens Woody not just personally (as another strong white male authority figure) but symbolically, as it represents the possibility that Andy’s affections – and by extension, Woody’s claim to power – are not as fixed as Woody believes.

Woody’s outright xenophobia toward Buzz can be understood as part of a broader reactionary instinct to preserve traditional hierarchies from perceived outsiders. Buzz, with his other-wordly technology and strange behaviour and culture, embodies the threat of the ‘different’ and the unknown; qualities authoritarian leaders cast as dangerous to the status quo. Woody’s efforts to undermine Buzz’s legitimacy by pointing out that Buzz is unaware of his ‘real’ role as a toy, as ignorant of the traditional culture within Andy’s room: in essence, Buzz’s initial obliviousness to being a toy disqualifies him to participate in the existing social order. Woody’s hostility is not simply personal jealousy; it is a calculated effort to preserve his authority by preventing the integration of an outsider who might disrupt the delicate balance of power in Andy’s room.

Woody never seeks the consent of the toys he rules, nor does he allow for the possibility that his authority might be shared or distributed. He claims Andy’s will and his power alone to interpret and invoke it whenever there is any sense of disruption. He immediately rebukes, and attempts to destroy, anyone who dare claims his legitimacy. Woody is a fascist.

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