Toy Story at 30: The Disastrous 1993 Screening That Almost Killed Pixar’s Debut

The 30-Year Legacy and the Near-Death Experience

In the history of cinema, few films have been as revolutionary as Pixar’s Toy Story. Released on November 22, 1995, it didn’t just become a blockbuster; it fundamentally changed the animation industry, ushering in the era of fully computer-generated feature films. As the film celebrates its 30th anniversary in 2025, it is easy to forget that this groundbreaking project—the very foundation of the Pixar empire—came perilously close to being shut down by Disney executives after a disastrous internal screening.

This crisis, known internally as the “Black Friday” screening, occurred in November 1993. It was a moment of profound failure that forced director John Lasseter and his team to completely rethink their protagonist and the core emotional stakes of the story, ultimately saving the film and, arguably, the future of computer animation.

The Genesis of Computer Animation: Pixar’s Early Stakes

In the early 1990s, Pixar was not the animation powerhouse it is today. It was a small, ambitious company focused on computer graphics hardware, operating under a crucial development deal with The Walt Disney Company. Toy Story was their first attempt at a feature film, carrying the immense pressure of proving that computer animation could sustain a 90-minute narrative.

Director John Lasseter envisioned a buddy comedy centered on two toys: Woody, a classic pull-string cowboy doll voiced by Tom Hanks, and Buzz Lightyear, a modern space ranger voiced by Tim Allen. The central conflict was Woody’s jealousy over Buzz replacing him as the favorite toy of their owner, Andy.

However, the initial development process was fraught with creative tension, particularly concerning the characterization of Woody. Disney, under the leadership of then-studio chairman Jeffrey Katzenberg, pushed for a story with more edge and cynicism, believing that modern audiences demanded sharper conflict.

The Infamous “Black Friday” Screening of 1993

By November 1993, the Pixar team had assembled a progress reel—a rough, partially animated version of the film—to present to Disney executives. This screening was critical; it was meant to demonstrate that the story was working and that the massive investment in computer animation was justified.

The Problem with Woody

Following Disney’s creative notes, the version of Woody presented in the 1993 reel was deeply flawed. Instead of being a slightly jealous but ultimately good-hearted leader, he was portrayed as mean-spirited, sarcastic, and actively malicious towards Buzz. The conflict was driven by spite, not fear.

When the lights came up after the screening, the reaction was devastating. The Disney executives, including Jeffrey Katzenberg, were horrified by the tone and the unlikable protagonist. The film, which was supposed to be a heartwarming adventure, felt dark and cynical.

“It was a disaster,” Lasseter recalled of the screening. “Woody was a jerk. He was mean and selfish, and nobody cared about him.”

Katzenberg’s Ultimatum

The failure of the screening put the entire project, and potentially Pixar’s relationship with Disney, in jeopardy. Katzenberg, known for his decisive management style, threatened to halt production immediately. The stakes were astronomical: if Toy Story failed, Pixar might revert to being just a technology company, and the dream of computer-animated features could die with it.

Lasseter and producer Ralph Guggenheim pleaded for a second chance. They argued that the fundamental concept was sound, but the execution had been compromised by trying to incorporate too many conflicting creative notes. Katzenberg relented, but gave the team a brutal deadline: two weeks to rewrite the script and storyboard a new version that proved the story could work.

Two Weeks to Save Pixar: The Radical Rework

The two weeks following the Black Friday screening were the most intense period in Pixar’s early history. Lasseter retreated with a small, trusted team of story artists, including Andrew Stanton and Pete Docter, who would later become titans of the studio themselves.

Their mission was simple: fix Woody. They realized the core issue wasn’t the conflict itself, but the motivation behind it. Woody couldn’t be mean; he had to be afraid.

Key Changes Made During the Two-Week Crunch:

1. Shifting Motivation: Woody’s actions were redefined as stemming from deep-seated insecurity and the fear of being replaced, rather than pure malice or envy.
2. Establishing Likability: The opening scenes were reworked to show Woody as a beloved leader and friend to the other toys, establishing his value before the conflict with Buzz begins.
3. Focus on Partnership: The narrative was steered toward the necessity of Woody and Buzz working together, highlighting their eventual friendship rather than their rivalry.
4. Refining the Voice: Tom Hanks was instrumental in shaping the new Woody, bringing warmth and vulnerability to the character that the earlier, cynical version lacked.

This intense period of creative focus resulted in a new story reel that was presented to Disney. The executives were immediately impressed. The new version had heart, humor, and, most importantly, a protagonist the audience could root for. Production was greenlit to continue, and the film was back on track.

The Unprecedented Success and Lasting Impact

When Toy Story finally premiered in 1995, it was an immediate phenomenon. Critics praised its technical innovation, sharp writing, and emotional depth. Audiences flocked to theaters, drawn in by the novelty and the universal themes of friendship and growing up.

Toy Story went on to gross $373 million worldwide, a staggering figure for an animated film at the time, especially one produced by a fledgling studio using entirely new technology. Its success was pivotal for several reasons:

• Validated Computer Animation: It proved that CG could deliver emotional, character-driven stories, not just technical spectacle.
• Launched Pixar: It established Pixar as a major creative force, leading to a string of critically acclaimed hits and eventually, Disney’s $7.4 billion acquisition of the studio in 2006.
• Created a Franchise: It launched one of the most successful and beloved film franchises in history, spanning four main films, numerous shorts, and spin-offs like 2022’s Lightyear.

Thirty years later, the film remains a benchmark for storytelling. The near-cancellation serves as a powerful reminder that even the most successful creative endeavors often face moments of existential crisis, and that true success lies in the willingness to scrap flawed ideas and return to the core emotional truth of the story.

Key Takeaways: Lessons from the Crisis

The story of the Toy Story near-disaster offers crucial insights into the creative process and the high stakes of feature film production:

• The Importance of Character: The film’s failure was rooted entirely in the characterization of Woody. Making him mean-spirited alienated the audience; making him fearful and insecure created empathy.
• Creative Resilience: Director John Lasseter and his team demonstrated immense resilience by accepting the failure of the initial version and executing a radical, high-pressure rewrite in just two weeks.
• Defining the Core Emotion: The success of the final film hinged on centering the story on the universal fear of replacement and obsolescence, rather than simple rivalry.
• Pixar’s Foundation: The Black Friday event solidified Pixar’s commitment to story-first filmmaking, a principle that guided the studio through its golden age.

Conclusion

As Toy Story marks three decades of cultural impact, its origin story—marked by the dramatic near-cancellation in November 1993—is perhaps as compelling as the film itself. It underscores the fragility of creative projects and the necessity of rigorous self-critique. Had Lasseter and his team not been given, or not seized, that two-week reprieve, the history of animation, Pixar, and Disney would look drastically different today. Woody and Buzz Lightyear stand not just as beloved characters, but as symbols of a creative gamble that paid off, saved from the brink by a desperate commitment to better storytelling.