Our characters get lost in the woods, get struck by lightening, are smashed to pieces, have freaky clown dreams, and witness the horror of being dissected for spare parts. With the help of a portable battery and a rolling desk chair, they brave forests, rivers, mudpits, thunderstorms, junk dealers, and worse in a bid to be remembered.įor a story about walking appliances, The Brave Little Toaster is one dark movie. The appliances despair until Toaster decides that The Master must have simply forgotten them and that they need to travel to the Big City to track him down. Unfortunately, tragedy strikes when a For Sale sign appears on the front lawn and a cranky air conditioner tells them that they have been abandoned forever. They spend their days keeping the place in order and lovingly dreaming about the day when The Master, a little redheaded boy, will come back and play with them. Toaster, Lampy, Blanket, Radio, and Kirby (a vacuum) are five dated appliances living in a long-unused summer home. So it seems like The Brave Little Toaster was made for me specifically, confirming all my deepest suspicions about my stuff having fun without me. Luckily, my mother never had those scruples or I’d be up to my eyeballs in action figures. I’m one of those people who can’t pass a shoe on the side of the road without wondering where it’s going and I simply cannot throw out anything from my childhood that has a face. I prefer to imagine that the couch and the ottoman have conversations when I’m not around and that the kitchen creates its own messes.
It’s weird, but the thought of something simply existing with no thoughts or feelings or dreams and worries bothers me in a way I can’t quite describe.
“I really thought I’d turned in my warranty that time!”Īl’s Review: I don’t like the idea of inanimate objects.
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