Saddest Pixar Moments, Ranked

Spoilers for numerous Pixar films to follow.

For nearly 30 years, going back to its innovative first feature "Toy Story," Pixar has defined excellence in creative and animated storytelling. Its films have been wildly successful at the box office, with "Inside Out 2" recently grossing billions at the box office, and the studio itself has won the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature 11 times. Pixar continues to produce feel-good stories that shape childhoods everywhere; yet, for all their warm and fuzzy moments (such as Woody and Buzz becoming friends or Dory speaking whale), what Pixar movies are really, really good at is making us cry — kids and adults alike. So, since we're feeling masochistic, this list ranks the saddest moments in Pixar films.

/Film alum Hoai-Tran Bui once described "Soul" as not just one of the most existential and ambitious Pixar films, but also one that's very different from all the others. It deals with the mundane, everyday existence of an older jazz musician who has lost his inspiration. After Joe falls into a manhole, he travels to another realm and discovers the true meaning of having a soul. When Joe returns to Earth, he places trinkets from his daily life on top of his piano and starts playing. In a montage backed by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross' transcendent score, we see him recall a memory from each object: eating mouth-watering pizza, listening to records with his father, riding his bike through a sunny park, feeling the ocean tickle his feet, and simply enjoying a subway ride while watching the sunset over the city.

Joe has an epiphany that while pursuing your artistic passion is important, it cannot consume your life. It's the small, intimate moments that hold more meaning. This sequence in "Soul" reminds us to, essentially, stop and smell the roses. In the hustle and bustle of adulthood, it's easy to forget the beauty and wonder of the world around us, and how important connecting with others is. The montage feels more poignant because it's not just a fantasy; it relates directly to our daily lives.

In "Monsters, Inc.," chaos ensues when a toddler accidentally enters the monster world of Monstropolis. She develops an affection for Sulley, a tall, fluffy beast that resembles something between a bear and a cat. Sulley nicknames her Boo and she affectionately calls him "Kitty." They develop a sweet friendship that Boo commemorates in a drawing of them holding hands. Sulley becomes protective of Boo and enjoys playing games with her. When Sulley finally returns Boo to her home, he tucks her in, tells her he has to go, and they share a farewell hug, with tears welling in Sulley's eyes.

After he leaves, Boo gets up to see if "Kitty" is still there, only to find an empty closet. This scene in "Monsters, Inc." is particularly sad because Boo is so young and she may forget about their time together when she's older. Sulley, on the other hand, will remember Boo forever; she made him realize that humans are nothing to be afraid of and he never wants to scare another child again. The ending scene gives us hope, though, when Mike Wazowski rebuilds Boo's door and we hear her giggle "Kitty!" when he opens it.

"Wall-E" is not only one of the most beautiful Pixar films, but it often feels more like an old silent movie. It depicts a futuristic version of Earth that's transformed into a garbage-filled dystopia, with humans now live on spaceships far away from the planet. WALL-E has huge, binocular-like eyes, a dingy, box-like body, and tank treads, which makes him the complete opposite of EVE — a sleek, high-tech robot sent to Earth to find proof of life. Despite their differences, Wall-E falls in love with EVE, and they go on a thrilling space adventure. Later in the film, Wall-E ends up breaking and is no longer able to recognize EVE. She cannot get his attention while he just mindlessly compacts garbage.

It's awful to see Wall-E, a hopeless romantic that adores Hollywood musicals, only caring about monotonous work. EVE gave him a life and purpose outside of rifling through trash. This scene is a testament to Pixar's remarkable ability to make us care deeply about characters, even those that are machines who don't speak. EVE is terrified that the old Wall-E may never return, so gives him an electric kiss to remember their love. Luckily, this reawakens Wall-E, and he and Eve are able to share their love across the galaxy.

"Finding Dory" hits us with a double whammy of crying scenes — first when Dory gets lost from her family, and then again when she finds them. Baby Dory is just about the cutest thing you've ever seen, between her giant eyes, minuscule body, and squeaky voice. She keeps going up to the same fish asking where her family is, forgetting that she already spoke to them. In this sequel, Dory's short-term memory is not as humorous as it was in "Finding Nemo."

It's heartbreaking to see her so tiny and alone in the vast ocean. We shed more (happy) tears when an older Dory follows a trail of shells and reunites with her mom and dad, voiced by the adorably nerdy Diane Keaton and Eugene Levy. For years, they've laid out the shells in the hopes that Dory would find her way home. They never moved because they had faith that she would. We can't help but start crying when they wrap their fins around one another. "Finding Dory" is so touching because it reminds us that a parents' love for their child is as deep as the sea.

While the scene with Wade evaporating is upsetting (luckily, he condenses inside the stone ceiling and comes back in the end), the most poignant scene in "Elemental" is Ember's confrontation with her father. Ember confesses that she does not want to run her family's Fireplace restaurant. She is torn between familial duty and wanting to follow her own dreams. Watching her break down in tears — despite being a ball of flame — tugs on our heartstrings. We can see how painful it is for Ember to reveal this and how much she cares about her parents. It's upsetting to hear that Ember believes she is a bad daughter and ruining her father's dream; Leah Lewis' voicework really captures Ember's quivering sadness. Her father's response, however, is not one of anger but understanding. "You were the dream," he reassures her, embracing her without hesitation. The scene ends sweetly, with Ember's entire family hugging one another in the shop's rubble. The ending of "Elemental" resonates so strongly because many struggle to live up to the expectations of their parents, especially those who are immigrants.

In the first "Inside Out," Riley dealt with Sadness after moving for the first time. In "Inside Out 2," however, Riley's now a teenager dealing with a set of all-new emotions, including Anxiety. Unlike Fear, who is apprehensive about things like spiders, clowns, and horror movies, Anxiety will do anything to present Riley as her most perfect, put-together self. She imagines the hundreds of different ways things can go wrong, which causes Riley to corrupt her Sense of Self (the fundamental qualities that make her who she is). Riley abandons her friends and believes that she is not good enough.

This lack of confidence results in Riley doing poorly at hockey tryouts and being sent to the penalty box. Inside Riley's mind, Anxiety tries to regain control, swirling around the console in a crackling cycle of dread. In the middle of the storm, Anxiety stands frozen in horror. There has never been a more accurate portrayal of anxiety. The scene is exactly what it feels like: tons of uncontrollable thoughts swirling and buzzing all around you, leaving you paralyzed with fear that something bad will happen and unable to act on it. It's so moving to hear Maya Hawke's husky voice soften when Anxiety apologizes, "I'm sorry, I was just trying to protect her." This is a deeply relatable and emotional sentiment for anyone who has struggled with anxiety.

"Finding Nemo" opens with a devastating scene where Marlin and his wife choose an amoeba home where they plan to raise their baby fish eggs. Suddenly, all their happiness is ripped away when a nasty, sharp-toothed barracuda spots them. Marlin is knocked unconscious by the barracuda's tail. When he awakens, the ocean is chillingly dark, with deep blues and violets, accompanied by the swelling strings of Thomas Newman's score, making it clear that something terrible has just happened. All of Marlin's babies are lost, except for little Nemo, a tiny orange ball tucked tightly in his egg, his wide eyes making him seem so vulnerable and unprepared for his world that has just been turned upside down. Marlin whispers a promise, "I will never let anything happen to you ... Nemo," using the name his wife chose. The tragedy establishes the father and son's loving and overprotective relationship that will drive the rest of the film.

Bing Bong from "Inside Out" is an adorable mix between an elephant, a cat, and even a hint of a dolphin with cotton candy fur. (He also cries candy.) Richard Kind's voicework is pitch-perfect as the slightly sensitive, naive, and lovable character, who was formerly Riley's imaginary friend. Bing Bong tries to help Joy and Sadness return to Headquarters, but he and Joy end up in the Memory Dump. They attempt to use his wagon rocket to escape, but it cannot hold the two of them. Bing Bong selflessly jumps out of the rocket and stays in the Memory Dump, allowing himself to sadly disappear forever. Before he fades away, he wistfully says to Joy, "Take her to the moon for me, okay?"

Pixar's decision to have Bing Bong, for all intents and purposes, die, is quite bold. It also reflects the studio's genius ability to explore the tensions between childhood and adulthood in its unique stories. This scene with Bing Bong is just one of the many ways Pixar makes audience members reflect on the joy and wonder of what we have left behind in the process of growing up, whether that be toys, imaginary friends, or the monsters in our closet. The idea that our imaginary friends from the past loved and cared for us, and may have suffered the same fate, is depressing.

Miguel's discovery that Hector is his great-great-grandfather during his adventures in the Land of the Dead leads to a sentimental climax in "Coco." After this revelation, Miguel runs to his great-grandmother Mama Coco. Her character design is tear-jerking on its own; since she suffers from a deteriorating memory, she mostly sits alone in her wheelchair in the corner of the room, head hanging down with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her face is cracked with lots of wrinkles, she is missing teeth, and her eyes are mere slits.

Mama Coco is mostly unresponsive until Miguel takes his guitar and starts playing "Remember Me," the song her father Hector used to play for her as a child. She slowly lights back up, smiles, and sings along. In this scene, "Coco" confronts the audience with the reality that someday we'll be old and missing our parents. We're all just children at heart, connected to our past selves and our families no matter how old we get. The juxtaposition between Mama Coco as an elderly woman and a little girl is bittersweet, reminding us of the fragility and quickness of life. "Remember Me" also speaks to the power of music. It's something that touches the part of the brain that is unforgettable, even as other memories fade. As a whole, "Coco" makes us appreciate the family members we know and the ancestors we honor.

Released over a decade after the second "Toy Story" film, "Toy Story 3" deals with a lot of changes. Andy is now a teenager and off to college, which means most of his old toys are gone and a select few are trapped in a toy box. Woody, Buzz, Jessie and the gang end up at Sunnyside Daycare, where the toys there have their own set of rules. Their near-death experience in a landfill incinerator is more harrowing and shocking than anything.

What really gets you is the final scene when Andy drives the toys to a family friend named Bonnie. Andy sits with the little girl and takes his time introducing each one of his beloved toys. He's hesitant to give her Woody until he sees Bonnie quote, "There's a snake in my boot!" Director Lee Unkrich's use of close-ups on the adorable toys being played with, combined with Thomas Newman's soft piano score and the lack of dialogue, make this moment feel bittersweet and significant. It's a touching scene that brings together two separate generations of pretending (Andy's Evil Dr. Porkchop and Bonnie's "haunted bakery"). We cry not only because of our nostalgia for these toys, but because it is the last time Andy ever gets to be a carefree child.

In the last shots, Bonnie stands on her porch surrounded by Woody, Buzz, and all the other toys. Andy looks at them fondly and whispers, "Thanks, guys." Bonnie makes Woody wave goodbye, and when she goes inside Woody watches Andy drive off and softly says, "So long, partner." Cue the waterworks. For adult audience members, "Toy Story 3" is especially emotional for adults because we remember and miss our old favorite toys, and know we may never capture that feeling of pure joy and imagination again.

Sarah McLachlan already tortures us with her song "Angel" that covers ASPCA ads, but "When She Loved Me" from "Toy Story 2" is just as devastating. Her breathy and gentle voice absolutely embodies heartbreak. The song overlays a flashback montage of Jessie's life with her previous owner, Emily. The melancholy lyrics express how being loved by Emily was everything to Jessie and made the world beautiful. After spinning around and frolicking in a field, Jessie snuggles up to Emily in the car, gazing up at her with a look of pure love and adoration. Their playtime is shown in slow motion to emphasize its importance to Jessie, creating a nostalgic beauty for the special times they shared, which now live only in her heart.

It's as if these perfect moments will last forever — but they don't. The lyrics describe what we see on screen: Emily starts to drift away when she grows up, developing new interests like nail polish, rock and roll, and hanging out with her friends. One day, Jessie falls behind Emily's bed and is left lonely and forgotten, just waiting "for the day when she'd say 'I will always love you.'" The way that McLachlan croons these somber lyrics hurts, but the final moment of the sequence completely shatters our hearts. Jessie looks so hopeful when she's found again and takes another car ride with Emily, only to be left in a donation box. This makes us feel incredibly guilty for all the toys we've abandoned over the years.

The first 10 minutes of "Up" is arguably the best and most memorable part of the entire film, but also the worst because it's so emotionally devastating. We're introduced to Ellie, a little ragamuffin who dreams of seeing Paradise Falls in South America just like her favorite explorer Charles Muntz. The bespectacled Carl is more reserved than the adventuresome Ellie, but he is smitten with her. Michael Giacchino's graceful score "Married Life" beautifully underscores a montage of Carl and Ellie's life together, everything from the joys of fixing up their new home to the sorrow of not being able to have a baby. Life problems (a new tire, hospitalization, etc.) always seems to get in the way of them being able to save money for a trip to Paradise Falls.

Their days working at the local zoo turn into years, until they are gray-haired and wrinkled. Eventually, Ellie gets sick and passes away, leaving Carl at the funeral clutching a sole balloon — a sad and heart-wrenching image. This opening montage is a masterclass in visual storytelling. In just a few minutes and without a single word of dialogue, this sequence economically and elegantly conveys the deep love and friendship that Carl and Ellie shared. Not only do we feel for Carl when he loses Ellie, but the montage also causes us to think about what life will be like without our own loved ones.