By Lucas Hauser | Editor-in-Chief
Being five years old is a wondrous adventure. When you’re not working hard learning your numbers and letters, the whole world awaits for you to explore, and there is always so much more to learn. Every day arrives with some new discovery or excitement. On one fateful day in the summer of 2006, my expedition came in the form of the first successful trip to the movie theater.
Walking in with my “kiddie combo” of popcorn, fruit snacks, and a drink, little did I realize how transformative the next 117 minutes would be. It was quite the emotional rollercoaster for my five year old self, witnessing an epic tale of excitement, bewilderment, and empathy. From the opening race to tipping tractors with Mater to the climactic finale, Cars was the first movie that finally captured my attention and imagination. And I mean, what isn’t there to love? It’s got action, suspense, tragedy, loss, humility, and unbelievable intellectual property merchandise potential!
There are critics of Cars. It is hard to tell whether these errant voices 1) haven’t seen the movie in a long time and assume it was bad, 2) enjoy the juvenile pleasure of critiquing something designed for younger kids and somehow feel mature and cool, or 3) actually believe, disturbingly, with a decent recollection of the film, that it actually wasn’t that good of a movie. Regardless of the reason, I’m here to dispel any possible avenues of slander on this fantastic film that was my childhood.
I will admit that I am heavily biased on this matter. On top of the first movie that I really got to see in a theater, Cars came to define my early childhood. Lightning McQueen found his way onto toys, clothes, and even lunchboxes (I wish I had a picture). Yeah, I was that cool. The go to movie that pleased everyone, I have watched Cars dozens of times, and honestly I still enjoy it a lot.
So I may be biased, but I am still right about this. My argument is simple: there is more to this movie than it gets credit for, and Cars belongs firmly in the upper echelon of animated films with Toy Story and the like.
Like many Disney/Pixar movies, Cars is designed to be understood and enjoyed for people of many age groups, thus avoiding a trap that so many lower-quality animated movies engage in. For little kids, like me when I first witnessed this masterpiece before I had even begun kindergarten, there is an array of colorful characters in this exciting world of racing cars. The visuals are wonderful, the score spot-on, the voice acting memorable, and the soundtrack powerful. Seriously people, what other movie has original performances from John Mayer, Sheryl Crow, and James Taylor?
On a level that is easy for even little kids to grasp, the moral of Cars is that winning is not everything, and that it is important to make good friends and treat others fairly, which will make you much happier in the long run. In Lightning McQueen, we find a truly dynamic character who embodies this lesson via his development throughout the film. McQueen enters as a reckless hotshot, “Mr. One-Man-Show,” who has no friends but is a wildly and suddenly successful racecar. He is then truly exposed in his detour to Radiator Springs, where he fails to escape but learns to love the town and the people in it, giving his life a purpose and joy beyond racing. Instead of using people, he learns how to befriend them.
In the final tiebreaker race for the Piston Cup between the reformed McQueen, the dirty Chick Hicks, and the aging class act The King, the lesson of humility and friendship is reinforced. McQueen’s friends from Radiator Springs arrive to support him, providing an immediate morale boost and purpose to his otherwise lagging performance until then. Eventually working his way past The King and Chick Hicks through off-road driving learned in Radiator Springs, soaring and triumphant music anticipates a sure Lightning McQueen victory entering the last lap.
At this climax, Chick Hicks provides a devastating dirty hit to The King, a crash sure to end his distinguished career. McQueen sees this, reminded of Doc Hudson's epic crash and his line that his trophies were “just empty cups,” and puts on the brakes to stop inches before the finish line. My five year-old self, completely missing the point, screamed in agony, asking why McQueen had to surrender the victory to give The King a dignified push across the finish line. But winning isn’t everything. Doing the right thing is more important, and that’s why it was so essential that McQueen did not cross the finish line first. He had learned and grown as a person (car).
More fundamentally, the portion in Radiator Springs tapped into an element of the American psyche-- the decline of the small town. In a world of cars, this town was bypassed by the highway, a common phenomenon years ago. This feeling of left behind is experienced by so many today who feel that society has moved on from them. And that is what the movie really strikes at, even if this sense of the loss of small-town Americana goes over the heads of younger viewers, such as 5 year-old me. As James Taylor sings in the somber flashback montage about the decline of Radiator Springs as the Interstate passes by, “No one seems to need us like they did before. It’s hard to find a reason left to stay, but it’s our town, we love it anyway.” Just listen to the song. It’s wonderful and a super underrated part of Cars. Funny how a movie about animated racecars has such moving undertones!
It’s important to remember that not every movie stands the test of time. Especially with animated movies targeted for kids, formulaic design and uninspired writing can produce a cash cow that has little meaning or staying power. There are endless examples of these, so it’s not even worth bothering going any further than that. Ultimately, it is also clear that Cars, for the reasons described above, definitely does not belong in this category.