To infinity but not much further than that.

My word, it feels like an absolute age since we last saw a Pixar film on the big screen. For various reasons, every Pixar effort since Soul has bypassed theatrical release and been unceremoniously dumped onto Disney+. Until now, that is.

After such an extended absence, Lightyear marks Pixar’s glorious return to cinemas, and it just feels good to have the studio back where it belongs.

Back in 1995, a kid named Andy received a toy for his birthday based on his favourite movie. Lightyear is that movie, telling the story of legendary space ranger, Buzz Lightyear (Chris Evans), who, after being marooned on a hostile planet 4.2 million light-years from Earth, must somehow find a way home. Joined by a rag-tag group of recruits and a charming robot cat, Buzz will have to risk it all to venture through space and time in order to get everyone home safely.

Ok, so let’s get one thing straight. This isn’t a Toy Story film. Well, not really. Or, it is and it isn’t.

It has a character named Buzz Lightyear in it but he’s definitely not a plastic toy, he’s an actual human space ranger. It’s a film of the film that inspired the toy that was in that film we all love. I hope that’s cleared things up.

If it’s direct, tangible links to the world of Andy, Woody, and the rest of the toy gang you’re after, you’re kind of out of luck here I’m afraid. There are certainly a ton of nods, references and Easter eggs to its predecessors in there, but in more ways than one, this is probably not the Toy Story instalment you’re perhaps expecting it to be.

Being only tangentially linked to the Toy Story universe feels like a blessing and a curse for Lightyear. In many ways, it’s attempts to position itself away from the franchise that birthed it allows the film to blaze its own trail, but there’s only so far you can go with that when you brazenly slap the name ‘Lightyear’ on your movie.

It’s a tail full of classic sci-fi adventure that would be way outside the scope of your average Toy Story movie, with a sense of big blockbuster spectacle that couldn’t feel further from a gang of toys turning a road crossing into an epic quest (as great as they have been at doing that). In that respect, Lightyear does a decent job of being its own Pixar thing, yet no matter how far it wants to distance itself from it, the film just can’t shake off its Toy Story links.

Try as they might, the spectre of Toy Story looms large over Lightyear, and when you’ve got one of the finest franchises in cinema history hovering over your shoulder, it’s nigh on impossible to shake it off.

So, to that end, Lightyear is - umm - lightyears away from being in the same conversation as Toy Story - or any top-tier Pixar effort for that matter. That said, however, it does make for a very enjoyable ride, one that has much to offer and operates on a level few other animations can touch.

While it certainly lacks the depth, emotional resonance, and storytelling nuance we’ve come to expect from Pixar at their best, this doesn’t mean it’s without merit. Far from it.

Taken as the grand, pulpy science fiction epic it pitches itself as, Lightyear excels in its mission to amaze and entertain. The whole thing is a throwback to the kind of retro sci-fi cinema that will wrap many of the adults in attendance in a nice warm nostalgic blanket, and judged as such, the film works very well indeed.

With classic sci-fi visuals, awe-inspiring action, and epic alien landscapes, Lightyear is quite the spectacle and puts itself up there among the Pixar elite looks-wise. Frequently stunning, there are many moments of such photorealistic beauty that you’ll genuinely forget you’re watching an animation, and while those that like their Pixar a little more fluffy and cartoonish will likely have a problem, for the rest of us, the animation quality on display will undoubtedly impress.

Beneath these visuals, there’s unfortunately not a whole lot to Lightyear I’m afraid. Despite an admirably inclusive outlook and a poignant message, there’s just something very shallow about the entire experience that leaves the final product well below what we’ve come to expect from Pixar.

Whether it’s the basic plot or the general aura of cynicism behind the entire idea (it does feel like a concept cooked up in a boardroom), something just doesn’t feel right about the viewing experience. The feeling of Lightyear cheaply riding the Toy Story name for clout never quite goes away and it results in a cold, callous energy you rarely, if ever, get from Pixar.

This iciness is thankfully thawed somewhat by a voice cast that ensure we’re kept emotionally engaged throughout. Leading the line, Chris Evans remains a commanding presence, and after the initial shock of not hearing Tim Allen in there, you’ll kind of wish he’d been the voice of Buzz all along.

Around Evans are an impressive cast that do a very solid job of adding a degree of heart that would otherwise be absent. Whether it’s James Brolin, Kiki Palmer, or even Taka Waititi, the cast are able to add a level of emotional depth that belies the scripts shortcomings.

Of this ensemble, by far the most successful is Peter Sohn as the robot cat, Sox, whose soft tones and sharp wit make him an absolute scene-stealer. He’s the kind of comic relief sidekick that could easily test an audience’s patience, however, the character ends up winning the entire film, to the point that you’ll wonder why Andy never got himself a Sox toy back in the day, because I can guarantee legions of children will be doing just that after watching this.

Although it certainly isn’t top-tier Pixar, there’s a lot of joy to be had with Lightyear. Despite the stunning visuals, a fun pulpy sci-fi setup, and an admirable approach to inclusiveness, something just doesn’t sit right about it. With a basic plot and a distinctly icy approach, the results feel lightyears away from what the Toy Story movies usually offer, often coming across as a cynical attempt to ride that series’ name without putting in the requisite effort. That said, it’s just a relief to see Pixar back on the screen again, because boy could we all use a little infinity and beyond right now!