It feels both impossible and inevitable that we've arrived at Toy Story 5. 

When Toy Story hit theaters in 1995, it was groundbreaking. The first release from Pixar Animation Studios was also the first animated feature created entirely with computers. Critics cheered, audiences flocked, and a toy cowboy named Woody (voiced by Tom Hanks) and a space ranger named Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) became instantly iconic. Then, bucking tradition, the sequel that followed in 1999 was actually even better than the original.

Introducing Jessie, the heartbroken cowgirl, (Joan Cusack) and her horse buddy Bullseye, Toy Story 2 expanded the world, the lore, and the themes of the first film. In Toy Story, Woody fears being forgotten by his owner, Andy. In Toy Story 2, the agony of that experience is efficiently distilled into Jessie's flashback with her first kid, Emily, scored by a rueful Sarah McLaughlin singing "When She Loved Me." If you sniffled at even remembering this sequence, you're not alone. 

Toy Story 3 followed, introducing Bonnie, a new kid for Woody and his friends to play with at Sunnyside Daycare, and presenting the franchise's biggest bad yet in Lots-o'-Huggin' Bear (Ned Beatty). (Also this third film gave us the absolute gift of Michael Keaton as Ken, years before Barbie.) Once more, critics cheered how this franchise about toys continued to mature. Toy Story 4 came nine years later, introducing Forky (Tony Hale), a spork turned into a toy by Bonnie's creativity. Though a deeply charming movie, the fourth installment didn’t feel as profound as its predecessors. And now, Toy Story 5 asks how Woody and the gang's world will change with the rise of AI and tech toys. 

In Toy Story 5, the antagonist is a tablet named Lilypad (Greta Lee), who's so addictive that analog toys worry this could mean the end of playtime. It's sort of funny to see a computer-animated movie attempt to critique the dangers of tech to a child's imagination. But as you might predict of Disney — who acquired Pixar 20 years back — there's no meaningful critique of tech toys or AI in Toy Story 5. Instead, digital devices versus analog toys become a way to explore how to find human connection.

Jessie is the hero of Toy Story 5. 

Remember, at the end of Toy Story 4, Woody retired from being Bonnie's (Scarlett Spears) toy to reconnect with Bo Peep (Annie Potts) and live in a playground as a "lost toy". Without him, Jessie has taken over as the playroom's sheriff, inspiring a bunch of imaginative scenarios of play, and making sure all the toys feel safe and seen. But a new challenge arises when eight-year-old Bonnie's parents buy her Lilypad to help her fit in and make friends. Her peers are all online, constantly connected to The Pond (Lilypad's social media network), playing games and messaging each other with little to no parental involvement. 

No sooner has Lily arrived that Bonnie becomes zombie-like, ignoring her other toys, stressing over missing online chat sessions, and endlessly tapping the screen. Jessie fears no real friends can be made with this "device," a word that Cusack utters like a slur. So, she sets out to help Bonnie make friends in person. But some big choices lead to Jessie and Bullseye ending up far from home, where the cowgirl is forced to confront her past trauma over losing Emily. 

Meanwhile, Woody has returned to help Buzz, who's been deputized by Jessie, to keep Lily in check. Though the words "AI" or "artificial intelligence" are never uttered in this movie, Lilypad's sentience leads to trouble for the toys and poor Bonnie. 

Toy Story 5 is about being the weird kid. 

It's been 31 years since I first saw Toy Story. And like that aching flashback in Toy Story 2, Bonnie's experience here hit me hard in the heart. Since she was introduced in Toy Story 3, this cute kiddo with a brunette bob, a love of color, and macabre storylines has been adored by her toys for her creativity. But to other kids, Bonnie is a weirdo. 

At the start of Toy Story 5, she's having a blast imagining a wedding ceremony where someone has poisoned the water hole maid-of-honor (her dramatic flourishes emphasized in a stylized animation, with softer lines and more vivid colors). But when the neighborhood twins arrive nearby, Bonnie is instantly self-conscious and flustered about how to invite them over to play. Her parents notice, and know the girls in her dance class use Lilypad to play games together online. So they believe they're helping when they present Bonnie with her own. However, as many a parent has learned, letting a kiddo go unsupervised online can lead to bullying, stress, and heartache. 

Because the other kids favor tablets over toys, Bonnie resists playing with her toys, as she has internalized the social pressure that such behavior isn't cool. A sting of remembrance — when Toy Story first came out, I was at the point in grade school when my peers insisted we were collectively too old for dolls and toys. So, I'd taken to hiding my favorites in a small box, tucked away from judgmental eyes. I'd still play, but alone. 

In Toy Story 5, Bonnie is not alone. Through Jessie's haphazard daring-do, the toys meet Blaze (Mykal-Michelle Harris), a nine-and-a-half-year-old who is as high-energy and gleefully goofy as Bonnie. She also seems to have a healthier relationship with technology. Now the trick is how to bring them together? 

It'll take a lot more than a virtual pond or a snarky tablet to save Bonnie from her aching isolation. Jessie will make new allies in some of Blaze's clunky tech devices, like a potty training toy called Smarty Pants (Conan O'Brien). And meanwhile, Woody, Buzz, and a fleet of recently unboxed, high-tech Buzzes will aid in an audacious rescue effort that leads to some splendidly exciting action sequences. 

Joan Cusack is marvelous in Toy Story 5. 

While the inclusion of high-tech toys is certainly the gimmick of Toy Story 5, it is not the focus. Instead, the story evolves into being about how to find your people. Jessie, once a lost toy, knows the pain of feeling alone. And even as she faces her fears of abandonment, she fights to save her kid from that pain. 

Jessie is a reflection of Bonnie and Blaze. She is spirited and silly, with a big heart that’s easily wounded. And yet she is brave. While Woody and Buzz get up to plenty of hijinks that are great for a trailer and some belly laughs, it is Jessie and her girls who make Toy Story 5 more than just another film in this franchise. They carve out a place for the little weirdos, to be seen and celebrated. 

Directed by Andrew Stanton, who co-wrote the screenplay with Kenna Harris, Toy Story brings back characters we love while introducing new toys for the merchandising line, including Lilypad. Yet the soul of these movies is not lost to consumerism requirements. The animation here is as winsome as ever. The story is admittedly thin, offering not one but two Buzz subplots to fill its feature-length runtime. Still, it is captivating even while uneven. But above all else, Cusack, who has been the MVP of such bizarre kids movies as Toys and Addams Family Values, commands this sequel with her unflappable moxie. 

Whether she is cheering for her friends or condemning her foes, Jessie is exhilarating, funny, and riveting. Cusack's performance is bolstered by a top tier animation team, who’ve made a beautiful and gleefully alive cowgirl and continued that careful illustration to a broader cast of characters. Perhaps predictably Toy Story 5 is an unabashed crowd pleaser. But more than that, it is a mainstream film that thoughtfully champions the unconventional. Through Jessie, Bonnie, and Blaze this joyous sequel cheers the weirdos, acknowledging the hurt of being left out, and the heady highs of finding community through shared strangeness. 

Simply put, this sequel is wacky, warm, and unapologetically weird. Yeehaw. 

Toy Story 5 opens in theaters on June 19.