I love Pixar. It’s really just this unabashed, unbiased adoration that’s deep enough for me to be slightly embarrassed about it as a 27-year old male. Seriously, if Pixar gave me a call and invited me over to be a concept artist, or a janitor, I’d drop everything and go. And when no one was looking, I’d hunt down all of the secret rooms in their building and play frisbee with their office monkey and draw myself into the background of a scene.

I missed Wall-E in the theaters because I’m a lonely hermit who’s too embittered against love sub-plots to avoid them even when they involve robots, but catching the movie on DVD was possibly even better - because I didn’t have to get into a toxic-emission-pumping car to drive home afterwards, or walk through a cloud of shame for having driven to the theater in the first place. While I’m not here to discuss the movie itself, it was a moving experience. You know you’re watching great animation when you find yourself ‘what a great movie!’ instead of ‘what a great cartoon!’ My natural predilection for robots aside, I completely dug the movie.

The DVD comes in a few formats, including Blu-Ray (a format which I’m not completely sold on just yet), a single-disc Standard Edition, and a 3-disc Special Edition. The copy that I happened to get was the 3-disc edition, which seems to be the best deal of all the varying editions. It comes packaged in eco-friendly cardboard packaging, with ‘drawers’ of a sort that slide out from either side of the DVD case - and given the theme of the film, eco-friendly packaging was the only thing that Disney and Pixar could do without being completely hypocritical.

There is one gigantic, explosive irony in the general distribution of the DVD, however. Without playing too much of a spoiler, there’s a certain sub-theme of the film that deals with the future-peoples’ collective lives being simultaneously dulled and overwhelmed by little portable screens that forever hover in front of their faces, obscuring the beauty and excitement of real life. The irony enters the picture with the inclusion of the extraneous third disc included in this set : a Disney File Digital Copy of the disc, specifically made to copy onto your iPod or mini video device. A little, portable screen that you can carry around to immerse yourself in instead of the real world.

Instead of saving plastic and practicing what the film preaches about breaking away from the screen, Digital Rights Management rears its ugly, wasteful head and demands that plastic be used for a third disc, instead of figuring out a less wasteful method, or just, like, dealing with it. Movie thieves are going to get around your DRM on the main DVDs anyhow, and I understand that it seriously sucks, but you have to appreciate the biting irony of the whole situation.

Aside from that, the DVDs are stuffed full of a crazy number of worthwhile extras.

Five of these extras are deleted scenes - two are half-rendered bits that change story pacing a little, and three aren’t scenes so much as animated storyboard sketches. There are also two complete short films included - one happening within the Wall-E universe as the main story is also happening, and one theatrical short called ‘Presto’. Pixar’s tradition of including a bonus short film before all of their features is one that I always forget about before the movie starts, and always love - but much to my disappointment, Pixar seems to have dropped the ‘blooper reel’ that they used to include with their film credits.

Of course, there’s director commentary, as well as some stuff about sound design and ‘Wall-E’s Tour of the Universe’. Disc 2’s main feature is a long documentary called ‘The Pixar Story’ by Leslie Iwerks (granddaughter of Ub Iwerks, the real designer behind Mickey Mouse), which is essentially a history of Disney through the late 1970s and branches off into Pixar upon its formation. It includes a lot of early home video footage inside the Disney studios, shot by friends and excited animators, so it’s a beautiful and rare look inside the world’s most important animation studio. For anyone who takes animation seriously, this is a must see (in addition to the documentary included on DC Super Heroes : The Filmation Adventures DVD). Also notable are 5 short how-to and informational videos from the future, and the disc is rounded out with Making-Of features, info about various robots & a minigame. It’s really stuffed full of every possible extra, and the documentary makes it truly invaluable.

The DVD arrives on shelves on November 18th. It’s a hopeful message for the future of a planet in flux, it’s visually breathtaking, and it’s very charming without ever becoming sappy. I’m in love with robots all over again.

It’s been about a decade since I’ve played with any RC toys, because frankly, remote control things sucked when I was a kid.

Like any young male, I had a remote controlled racecar or two, but while I was growing up, all RC cars suffered from Severe Battery Uselessness, or ‘SBU’, which is an acronym that I just made up. There was no cure. You could run an RC car for about 3 minutes on 37 D batteries or a clunky rechargeable battery, and out of nowhere, it would be stricken with immobility. The reasons for this were split even between total battery death and being incapacitated by a small stick in the driveway. Battery replacement was expensive, and battery recharging was a multi-hour process. So, I completely lost interest and retreated to the instant gratification of the Nintendo.

In my absence, RC technology has worked very hard to impress me, and it’s delivered the results in the form of Thinkway’s U-Command Wall-E RC robot.

Even though the eponymous Pixar film hasn’t been released, there are about a billion Wall-E toys out there - small action figures, stuffed dolls, dioramas, and a good handful of electronic light ‘n’ sound things. For those of us who can’t invest in the $190 Ultimate Wall-E Programmable Robot (which has robot geeks all a-buzz for all kinds of reasons), there’s the U-Command Wall-E, which retails for about $40-$50.

One of the challenges that’s always thwarted robot designers is the ability to create a ‘personality’ in their robotic creations. It’s now pretty evident that years of personality design could have been bridged by simply bringing an animator on board in the design process, since Wall-E (both the animated character and the RC toy) are replete with personality. It’s a psychologically interesting thing that despite being a box with expressive eyes, that’s all we need from Wall-E to get a good read on his personality, even without seeing the movie.

This is where the RC toy exceeds. It’s not a toy designed for speed, but the slow and steady working treads that the RC uses to move are a solid mode of transport. RCs with treads are a whole new world to me. Wall-E runs on 4 AA batteries, and the remote control runs on 3 more AA batteries. After a good 30 minutes of play, the batteries are still going strong.

Wall-E has 10 function buttons and 2 program buttons on an easy to hold infrared remote. The ‘forward and backward’ stick will indeed move Wall-E Forward, but pressing the stick back will execute a left turn, as Wall-E cannot reverse direction (and can’t turn right). These are basic things - but the neatness comes with the buttons on the right side of the controller.

The ‘music’ button will provoke Wall-E to play 4 or 5 different songs and dance differently to each one. The ‘eyes’ button will create all of the neat little movements and quirks that bring the robot to life, and the fish-shaped ‘special turn’ button will start a special chain of more personality-rich movements. The ‘box’ button creates sound effects.

The ‘sun’ button is an odd addition. Every so often, Wall-E will stop responding to commands, and for some bizarre design / personality reason, you need to press the ‘sun’ button to reactivate him. It doesn’t really interfere with play, but if you haven’t read the instruction manual and leapt right into play, this feature might be a little confusing. We finally have RC toys that can communicate consistently with their remotes and we add a feature to emulate noncommunication. Curious indeed.

The ‘program’ buttons allow you to hit any of these 10 buttons in any sequence and have Wall-E perform the strong of actions that you’ve determined, sending him into true automatic, robot mode.

If there’s a weakness in this giant mix of personality and charm, it’s that Wall-E falls backwards a lot. While the instructions suggest to run Wall-E only on flat, un-carpeted ground and to extend his arms fully forward in order to maintain balance, his movements have a kick to them (which is far better than being sluggish) that will toss him backwards. This requires uprighting Wall-E by hand, and I can’t help but wish for an extending panel or rod that would pop him back upright when this happens. Most balance issues can be resolved by keeping Wall-E’s movements steady and consistent instead of starting and stopping him a bunch.

Even as an action figure, Wall-E is a great display piece - a perfect addition to my robot and Pixar collections. While this version does not have an opening chest panel, it WILL however freak the heck out of your dog. Check out the video after the jump to see Wall-E in action. I like it a bunch, and it may have just reawoken my interest in the ever-improving world of RC.

Dear Diary :

Yes, it was only over one month ago that I began to chronicle my nascent love affair with piles of interlocking plastic bricks, but it’s been a wild month. Things just started moving so fast, and before I knew it… well, let me explain.

It all started when I found some boxed Lego sets in my closet during a spring clean. In a moment of much-needed toy therapy, I tore them open, ruined their inherent mint-in-box collectability, and began to assemble. Sometimes, play just outweighs pay.

After that day of building, I never stopped. As soon as my existing sets had been assembled, I found myself needing more, and I needed it fast. A collection of 100 bricks wasn’t even enough to make a small, rainbow-colored shanty out of. It was late, and the stores were closed, so I tore into a small Mega Bloks lobster that I’d also found in the recesses of the closet, but it wasn’t the same. It kept on falling apart, and it bore only a passing resemblance to a lobster. It was like heading out to a club to find a hot chick and then coming home with one that didn’t have all of her own teeth. And didn’t even bother to replace the ones that had escaped.

When you collect to a degree that you forget about half of what you have, your own residence is a constant wonderful surprise, if it doesn’t kill you first.

I was so dissatisfied with the non-Lego lobster that I decided to create my own. When I see a creative problem, I will inevitably throw all sensibility away and throw my whole life into engineering a near-perfect solution, while I still remain indifferent about balancing my bank account. In this case, a new and improved lobster cost me a few hours of sleep, as I learned my way around the free Lego Digital Designer (which works on both Mac and Windows, and can be downloaded from free from the Lego website). By the time I was finished, I had created a wonderful Lego lobster that was all mine - and best of all, it didn’t take up any physical space! Within the LDD, you have the ability to click on a ‘how much will this cost me?’ button, and the program will calculate your total price based on which bricks you’ve used. While my Mega Blocks lobster was about 7 inches long and $2, my Lego lobster was a far more intricate, detailed, and large $35. My creation, however, was articulated with a curling tail, pinching claws, and 8 moveable legs. Such points of movement are important to an action figure geek like myself. Ol’ Blok lobster didn’t even have any legs.

I contented myself by going out into the real world and picking up a variety of under-$20 Lego sets from the store. I’d put the ‘correct’ items together, look at them for a moment, and break them apart to make them other things. I went on eBay about bought mysterious lots of thousands of mixed, used Legos. I didn’t know where they’d been, but at this point, I didn’t even care. Our love affair was getting dark and kinky, but we both knew what it was.

I lost three days’ worth of free time after I saw a picture of Iron Monger from the new Iron Man movie. With a toy magazine propped up next to my monitor, I dove into the LDD again and built a semi-accurate effigy of the Iron Monger robot, complete with moving parts (including moveable fingers), and space on the inside for an AA battery and a small light, so that he might emit a glow. I estimate that he’s about a foot tall, and has over 500 pieces. The price, after three days of intense e-labor that overtook all of my thoughts and gave me a fun project to look forward to? $95.

It was like giving intellectual birth, and it turned out really nicely. When it was done, I felt empty and directionless. Sure, I had more Lego ideas, but I was still no Nathan Sawaya. Still, visions of being employed by Legoland filled my head, as I skimmed the application process and job openings for possibilities. Unless I wanted to move to Sweden, the options were pretty limited - and the Legoland Master Builder interview process required that the applicant build a both a spontaneous model and a rollable ball of Legos on the spot, under the watchful eyes of Lego Masters. This was a situation that I felt very unprepared for, after my recent three day excursion into Legoblivion. I could traverse the Legobstacle course, but it was at my own speed.

The emptiness persisted, and my local toy store shelves were empty or only filled high-end sets and Bionicles, which are largely incompatible with your standard Lego brick. On a trip to Marshalls with my mother, I wandered over to the toy section while she browsed the pottery and spices, banking on a tip that I heard over in the Lego Facebook group. It was there that I came across my Lego holy grail, and marked at 50% off. I’d always wanted the Lego Ultimate Collectors’ Edition Batmobile, both because it was Lego and it was a batmobile, but the original $60 price tag was too steep. There were three on sale, and I bought them all. I remained awake until 2 AM, being accosted by the horribleness of the Transformers Movie, and assembling the Batmobile.

As the pieces came together, I got a sinking feeling. See, once I’d put together a handful of base plates to serve as the undercarriage of the car, I thought that would be the size of things - but no, the two thick instructional manuals that came with the Batmobile kept on adding more and more baseplates, until the size of the thing completely overtook my who designated assembly table. Bags upon bags of bricks were gently cut open at their corners, to avoid spillage onto the floor. Gears were added, sleek and curvy black bricks were stacked in ziggurat patterns, and 5 hours later (including 2 hours past my bedtime), I had a massive, solid, awesome Batmobile - and no plans on how to safely keep anything this huge. It’s too large for a Lego-sized figure or a 3 3/4 scale figure, and too small for your average 6” figure. Not only is is a masterpiece of smart construction and a testament to the power of Brick, but a handful of Lego Technic pieces cause fiery blasts and visible turbines to spin while the car’s wheels roll, and a turn of the steering wheel causes a bat-symbol on the front of the car to pop up. I’d be happy if it just sat there looking pretty. I don’t require fancy action features for my Legos.

I guess that brings us up to date, Diary. That was Sunday, and I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I think we’ve decided to spend a little time apart so that I can get other parts of my life back in order. You know, eating and sleeping, some painting. The Digital Designer keeps on beckoning to me, though - promising me other buildable sea creatures and cthulhus, and making a mini-model of my dream house. Do I really have $100 to buy a Lego-bot of my own devising? Looks like I’m gonna hafta pull an extra shift at work. Lego, you’re worth it, and I can always rationalize it as a ‘creative expense’, which I set no spending limit on. I know, once you start making excuses for Legos, you know you’re in trouble. But it’s awesome trouble.