Riley may be changing but the studio’s latest film remains an inventive and assured delight.

By Terry Staunton

Published: Wednesday, 12 June 2024 at 19:00 PM


4.0 out of 5 star rating

As we left 12-year-old Riley in the closing minutes of the first Inside Out, the colourful characters representing the emotions in her head took delivery of an upgraded console and were wondering what the shiny new button marked “puberty” meant.

No surprises, then, where this next instalment leads us. After several captivating films portraying the dynamics of family, Pixar now set sail on the (for them) comparatively uncharted, choppy waters of teenage torment and peer pressure.

It’s not a wholesale detour into the acid-tongued arena of, say, Tina Fey’s Mean Girls; there are elements of that, but the studio’s longstanding core values remain intact, the phrases “belief system” and “sense of self” cropping up early on to describe corners of Riley’s maturing, often conflicted noggin.

The major changes are at the controls, where familiar faces from the original movie (Joy, Sadness, Fear, Anger and Disgust) continue to potter along, shepherding their charge through life, until all hell breaks lose, practically overnight.

Enter a new, more complex crew, comprising Anxiety, Envy, Embarrassment and Ennui, the latter first seen reclining on a chaise longue and barely looking up from her mobile phone.

Their arrival coincides with a full-scale remodelling of the now teenage brain, heralded by the unforgiving swing of a construction wrecking ball (a nod, perhaps, to former sweet-natured child star turned edgy pop vixen Miley Cyrus), before Joy and company are banished to darker recesses.

Embarrassment, Anxiety and Envy at the controls of Riley's console in Inside Out 2.
Embarrassment, Anxiety and Envy in Inside Out 2.
Disney

Meanwhile, Riley heads off to a residential ice hockey camp, and Joy (again, superbly voiced by Amy Poehler) is perturbed by her replacements’ plan for the girl to all but ghost her hitherto best friends and hang out with a cooler, slightly older clique.

Consequently, she must find her way back to the console to redress the balance; an obstacle-strewn voyage to relocate Riley’s aforementioned sense of self, requiring the outcasts to befriend forgotten childhood memories, hitch a ride on a slice of pizza floating along a stream of consciousness, the whole kaboodle.

It’s a journey and jeopardy situation which pretty much mimics the first film, and although all five of that story’s chief emotions are along for the ride, the key relationship is still between Joy and Phyllis Smith’s Sadness (essentially a variation of the actress’s hangdog character in the American version of The Office).

They’re a delight throughout, and an even more rounded comic pairing than last time. “Have I ever steered you wrong before?” asks the perennially upbeat Joy at one point. “Yes,” deadpans Sadness. “Many times.”