Pixar’s First Original TV Series Win Or Lose Knocks It Out of the Park

While Pixar has been at the forefront of the animation industry for decades, they’re not quite the infallible powerhouse they used to be, and at this point, they put out nearly as many sequels and missteps as great original flicks. Of course, it isn’t just them, and in light of theaters struggling, almost all of Hollywood is making a mad dash toward reboots and rehashes.

In this context, Pixar’s first crack at original TV programming on Disney+, Win or Lose, makes perfect sense. By branching into the world of streaming, the studio can give itself some wiggle room in a flailing film landscape. But it begs the question, is it possible for this studio to create something to their usual standards while hitting the runtime of a television series? Even when their movies haven’t landed narratively or thematically, they’re still almost always very well animated thanks to the scores of skilled creatives involved, but this is harder to replicate when you start going over two hours. Thankfully, their first crack at the small screen shows they’re up to the task because Win or Lose is a visually imaginative sports story full of humor and charm.

The series follows the Pickles, a middle school softball team headed to the state championship. While you may expect them to be a band of hyper-athletic sports obsessives, the reality is that they’re an eclectic bunch who are just as focused on everyday problems as they are on improving their batting average. We get to know many of them personally because each episode focuses entirely on a different character, depicting the same days leading up to the big game from alternate perspectives. For instance, first off, we follow Laurie (Rosie Foss), the hapless daughter of the head coach who can’t hit a line drive to save her life. Later, Frank is front and center, a heartbroken teacher who moonlights as an eagle-eyed ump. Through the five episodes we were provided for review, each of these main characters is well-explored, as the series dives into their trials and tribulations with acute interest.

And while each episode is from the perspective of a unique protagonist, these one-offs are bound together by a consistent combination of punchy jokes and well-considered drama—it hits that classic Pixar mixture of emotional earnestness blended with just enough nuance to make its heavier beats land. As for the gags, the script from Carrie Hobson and Michael Yates is a non-stop procession of witty dialogue that gets at serious issues from well-considered angles. A good example is how Laurie’s struggles with anxiety are personified by a viscous blob creature named Sweaty (Jo Firestone) who fires off a volley of self-conscious inner thoughts that are both sad, relatable, and hilarious. In general, the dialogue has sharpness and specificity, as it puts fresh spins on commonplace problems.

In this way, despite being quite funny, the series is also able to deal with more serious issues aimed at both adolescent and adult audiences; Laurie struggles with parental expectations and the pressures of being on a sports team, while Frank grapples with a lifetime of putting up barriers to protect himself, specifically when it comes to a recent break-up—I never thought I’d feel bad for any kind of sports referee, but here we are. One of the most interesting storylines follows Rochelle (Milan Ray), a whip-smart girl who feels forced to take on her family’s financial burdens instead of being able to enjoy just being a kid. Across each, the story seamlessly switches between tones, earning every eventual pivot toward sincerity.

Much of this successful tonal balancing comes from how the animation so convincingly sells each mood. As previously mentioned, it seemed somewhat unlikely that Pixar would be able to maintain their usual sky-high visuals in a TV format simply because shows tend to have a much lower budget per frame of animation—more money doesn’t automatically result in better animation quality, but it does determine how long artists can spend on a given scene.

However, perhaps this series’ greatest strength is just how aesthetically creative it can be, using constant visual metaphors to drive home these characters’ mental states. At one point, an umpire takes on defensive posturing against angry parents, donning glowing blue videogame armor that he has a hard time taking off. Online dating is represented as a platformer that looks right out of the Mushroom Kingdom. As one protagonist runs from a band of teen dirtbags, suburban street corners transform into a nightmarish gothic road leading to nowhere. The series often has a fanciful touch that borders on magical realism, having enough faith in the viewer to understand that much of what we’re seeing represents how the cast feels instead of what is literally happening, as woozy editing takes us through fact and fiction from scene to scene. In terms of animation, Win or Lose is a homerun.

All this said it’s worth mentioning a controversy that precedes the show’s release: Disney/Pixar’s gutless decision to cut a storyline involving a trans character. It’s just the latest example of a big company falling over backward to kowtow to the current administration, an about-face that’s even more disappointing given how good the series is at empathizing with its cast and their situations. And as for issues concerning what’s actually in the show, while these character conflicts are interesting and Pixar very much brought their usual animation firepower, the episodes we were provided for review are all relatively short and almost always ended without resolution, seemingly building towards payoffs in a future episode. The issue with this is that although these are largely self-contained episodes that would nearly work as short films, they mostly lack true conclusions, defeating the purpose of being one-offs. While the final few episodes we haven’t seen yet could pinch-hit their way to glory by tying these loose ends together, the series is sometimes awkwardly stuck between being an anthology and a more interconnected story.

Overall, though, Win or Lose is a pleasant surprise. It’s not a traditional baseball tale and is less interested in the minutiae of sports than the minutiae of those who play them. It gets at various issues bigger than baseball—anxiety, financial pressures, loneliness—but seamlessly weaves in curveballs through funny gags and inventive bursts of animation. I wish its individual episodes had more satisfying resolutions, but altogether, Pixar’s latest is a heavyweight hitter.

Elijah Gonzalez is an assistant Games and TV Editor for Paste Magazine. In addition to playing and watching the latest on the small screen, he also loves film, creating large lists of media he’ll probably never actually get to, and dreaming of the day he finally gets through all the Like a Dragon games. You can follow him on Bluesky @elijahgonzalez.bsky.social.