Pixar tells story behind 'Toy Story'

When Hollywood was churning out movies full of explosions and mindless violence a few years ago, Pixar Animation Studios swam against the stream with "Finding Nemo," a G-rated feature that received four Academy Award nominations and grossed more than $355 million.

Today, of course, Pixar's filmmaking wisdom is self-evident. Mention the animation studio and everyone nods wisely.

But Monday, as Pixar celebrated the 10th anniversary of "Toy Story," its debut film, the creative minds behind the studio for the first time told the real story of how they almost lost the picture. Not only did the big-money folks at Disney who bankrolled the film not understand the vision of "Toy Story," they hated it so much they shut down production.

Of course, Pixar made the movie, the movie made millions and Disney watched itself dethroned as the king of animation by a company that Steve Jobs started in a Richmond garage.

It is an instructive story on several levels. Pixar, as you have probably heard, has had a stormy relationship with Disney -- and Disney, at this point, looks like the loser. In the 10 years since we met Woody the cowboy, Buzz Lightyear and the rest of the "Toy Story" gang, Pixar has won 16 Academy Awards and grossed over $3 billion.

Disney, once the gold standard of animation, is reeling from flops like "Treasure Planet."

Is Pixar the new model for corporate filmmaking? Wouldn't that be nice?

Yesterday's press tour was a rare opportunity to cruise the Emeryville campus, where studio guru John Lasseter can be seen strolling by in one of his trademark Hawaiian shirts, and slacker-chic employees zip the halls on scooters when they aren't playing video games and foosball.

Call it the house that Woody built.

"I don't think there is any other studio out there like Pixar," said Lee Unkrich, the co-director of "Finding Nemo," "Monsters, Inc." and "Toy Story 2. "

He's got that right. Where else would employees talk about creating "art as a team sport?"

It isn't just an innovative workplace; Pixar sounds a little like an alternative lifestyle.

With their beach garb, geek culture and fanatic attention to detail, the folks at Pixar are churning out the must-see movies of their generation. What no one seems to notice is that, with the huge production costs of computer animation, they are rolling the dice with every new release.

Pixar has only done six feature films in 10 years. But there hasn't been a clunker in the bunch.

"A lot of studios talk about a 12-to-1 ratio -- they come in with 12 ideas and one of them makes it," said Andrew Stanton, who won Oscars for writing and directing "Nemo." "We pick one idea, good or bad, and we stick with it until it works."

That's not how it happens down south, as Pixar discovered with "Toy Story. "

Disney, which was bankrolling the project, peppered the young animators with notes and suggestions. The story was too juvenile, the higher-ups said, and the characters had to be edgier. Afraid to trust themselves, Lasseter and his crew tried to follow all the directions.

It was, nearly everyone agrees, a train wreck. Disney hated the movie and the idea -- and shut it down.

"Yeah that was fun," jokes Pete Docter, who was nominated for Oscars for "Toy Story" and "Monsters, Inc." "And it happened right around Christmas, too."

Lasseter recalls that he "begged" for two weeks to fix things. The animators went back, took out all of Disney's suggestions and made the movie they wanted to make in the first place.

And, naturally, when they screened the new version, Disney execs loved it. There's your corporate minds at work: First they screw it up and hate it, and then don't even realize that they're watching what they hated in the first place.

But if Lasseter's last-second fixes hadn't worked, there would be no

Pixar campus, first in Richmond, and now in Emeryville today, or a potential expansion with building permits available through 2012. Nor would the Bay Area be known as the epicenter of computer animation. It was one of those behind-the-scenes moments that dramatically changes the culture of a community.

And, it has to be said, Pixar has turned out to be a terrific corporate role model. Not only has it been wildly successful, it has turned out films that nearly everyone finds entertaining and worthwhile. The studio's movies, except for some uncharacteristically dark moments in "The Incredibles," are almost always wholesome family fare. The movies, and the studio where they are made, are as down-to-earth and unaffected as the creators.

How do they make it work? Well, a big part of it, they insist, is avoiding what they call "No, but ... ."

The idea is that when someone suggests an idea, others should respond with "Yes, and ...," not "No, but ... ."

Docter and Stanton say that attitude comes from the improv comedy culture, and they credit Joe Ranft (Pixar's 45-year-old head of storytelling until he died last week in a car accident in Mendocino County) with bringing it to Pixar. It all comes with the concept that, as they say on campus, "every idea is a good idea."

"What you need to create," says Stanton, the eighth employee hired when Pixar started 20 years ago, "is the most trusting environment possible where people can screw up."

And follow their own vision. So far, so good.

Happy birthday, Woody.