From The Outside In: How Adults Can Still Relate to Kids Movies
Written by Charlie Rowe
At 26 years old, I find myself in an unusual place, straddling the line between youthful freedom and a creeping sense of age. It’s an odd feeling, being caught between the remnants of childhood exuberance and the responsibilities that come with adulthood. Despite being just a few years older than many of my friends and coworkers, I often feel an almost surreal gap between us. On the other hand, society seems to lump all twenty-somethings into the broad category of adulthood, expecting us to navigate life with the composure and wisdom of those who’ve been at it for decades. Yet, we’re merely adult toddlers, taking our first steps into the world beyond the shelter of education and the gradual process of growing up.
A curious phenomenon in my twenties has been the pressure to conform to the so-called "adult" interests. It’s as though there’s an unspoken rule that, once you cross into adulthood, you must relinquish your love for the bright, the bold, and the whimsical. Why, for instance, would an adult want to dress in vibrant colors or indulge in the sparkly delights of fashion? Why should I enjoy the effervescent beats of pop music or take pleasure in animated films and TV shows, especially if I don’t have a child? Society often ridicules such preferences as childish, relegating them to the realm of the immature. Yet, the truth is that many of these "juvenile" interests hold profound lessons and joys for adults as well.
I recall vividly the excitement I felt at 17 when the first Inside Out movie was released. The concept of emotions personified, interacting within the mind to influence their host, was captivating. With a stellar voice cast, including the likes of Amy Poehler and Bill Hader, my anticipation for the film was immense. Watching it, I experienced a range of emotions, but above all, I felt seen. Riley’s journey resonated with me deeply—from the poignant loss of Bing Bong to the joyous moments with her family and friends, to the bittersweet sadness of leaving her new city to try and go home. In Riley’s experiences, I saw reflections of my own, and the film’s ability to convey complex emotions in a way that was accessible to both children and adults was remarkable. The depiction of her parents' perspectives offered a subtle yet impactful commentary for adult viewers, reinforcing the notion that happiness is not a constant state, but one that is enriched by understanding and embracing our full emotional spectrum.
When Inside Out 2 was announced in 2022, my 24-year-old self was thrilled. The first film had set such a high standard, and I eagerly anticipated the continuation of that vibrant, imaginative world. As the release date approached, however, I found myself questioning whether I was “too old” to see it. At 26, without a child, would it seem odd for me to go and watch it by myself? Spoiler alert: I went, and it was anything but weird. Despite being surrounded by children and their somewhat disengaged parents, my experience was no less profound.
Inside Out 2 offered me a new perspective, not only on myself but on my “adult” emotions as well. One of the most poignant scenes depicts Riley having a panic attack during a hockey game. (Watch here if you haven’t already!) The film’s portrayal of this moment is nothing short of masterful. The chaos within Riley’s mind is vividly rendered, with all her emotions scrambling to manage the overwhelming anxiety. The depiction of Joy finally infiltrating Anxiety’s force field, only to find Anxiety paralyzed by fear despite the chaos and the mess, is both powerful and deeply relatable.
When Joy finally breaks through, helping Anxiety release Riley, the exhaustion witn Anxiety’s face and body are palpable. This scene brought to life an experience that many struggle to articulate, including myself. Having battled panic attacks for much of my life, particularly in the face of recent traumas, seeing such a personal struggle portrayed with such clarity and empathy was incredibly moving. I found myself tearing up, not just because the film simplified a complex emotional experience for a younger audience, but because it validated my own experiences.
Another remarkable and impactful scene within the film is prior to the panic attack, whent he original emotions are trying to find their way back to headquarters (click here). You can see Joy, the typical leader, is distraught and not her usual cheery and peppy self. The other emotions are asking her what to do now, as they’ve hit another dead end. Joy isn’t sure, saying she’s not sure if they can overcome Anxiety and even goes so far to utter “Maybe this is what happens when you grow up, you feel less joy”. This sentence in the theatre was a gut punch to me and my emotional being, whereas the children around me may not have understood it to the depth I or their parents did. Sure, these kids may one day feel that as they step out of their childhood wonder and into adulthood, but it’s the adults who that moment is speaking to, who know what that feeling of a loss of joy is like.
On the contrary to such a sad concept, another one of the final most impactful scenes to me is after the anxiety attack, when Riley’s emotions settle a bit (view here). Beautiful flecks of yellow are emanating from Joy, as she is literally glowing, and making their way to the emotion control board. Almost all emotions, even Joy, look a bit perplexed at what’s going on, excluding Sadness who looks amazed. She tells Joy that Riley wants her. Joy goes to the emotion control board, and takes over, and you can see Riley become happy again. This want and yearn for being happy and wanting to feel and choose joy is something so relatable among adults, and something that hit very close to home to me and drove me to tears. This, in essence, is what makes movies like the Inside Out movies so valuable—they offer insights and solace to all ages, proving that stories “for” children often have much to teach us as adults.
In conclusion, the journey of navigating adulthood often feels like a balancing act between societal expectations and personal passions. As we grow older, we are frequently pressured to abandon the joys of our youth in favor of more "mature" pursuits. Yet, it is precisely these remnants of childhood—the bold colors, the pop music, the animated films—that continue to offer us comfort, understanding, and a deeper connection to our own emotions. InsideOut and its sequel exemplify the power of storytelling that transcends age, reminding us that growth does not mean leaving behind who we once were, but rather embracing every part of ourselves, including the child within.
Be Well,
Charlie Rowe
