I don’t know if Toy Story 2: Buzz Lightyear To The Rescue is any good, but I know eight year-old me believed it to be.
I remember pottering around a world designed for giants. A world of mundane obstacles, of molehills become mountains. A world that existed on the fringes of my understanding, where something new and bewildering lay behind every corner. I suppose being a toy is a lot like being a child. Huh. I guess that’s a whole thing.
Epiphanies about the underlying attraction of beloved childhood movies aside, Toy Story 2 was certainly a cool game to play as a kid. I remember being flummoxed at every turn, bashing my head against puzzles that probably only counted as such because I was so inept.
I remember my wonderment at figuring out how to leave Andy’s bedroom. I remember trial and error-ing my way through a bit where you had to mix paint to get the right secondary colours. I remember a horrible boss fight against a sack of green jelly reminiscent of one from a recurring nightmare I was plagued with after watching Winnie the Pooh.
Mostly, though, I remember celebrating every time I finally figured out the way forward. Success was a result of sheer determination, and likely a lack of anything else to play. What a lovely problem to be your biggest.