I’ve been spending a lot of time with Pixar’s Cars franchise lately. One of my favorite podcasters talked about how his son has been making him watch it on repeat, so he ranted about the relative qualities of Cars, Cars 2, and Cars 3. Wanting to know what he was talking about and needing something to listen to while folding laundry, I watched the first two.

The strange worldbuilding of Cars is nothing new. The YouTube channel Film Theory made a video arguing that Cars takes place in a post-apocalyptic, post-human world. There’s an infamous cartoon where someone asserts that the cars might be biological creatures inside car exoskeletons, which I can’t unsee unfortunately. Talking to my partner about my new hyperfixation, he theorized that cars have two digestive systems: one for human food and one for gas. He also said the nature of exhaust pipes mean that cars are perma-farting, but that’s beside the point.

One area of the movie’s worldbuilding that I have not seen anyone else scrutinize is the internal theology of Cars. People have made jokes about the Popemobile in a Popemobile or used Cars as a Christian lesson on hubris, but I would like to turn our eye to the beliefs of the cars themselves. I believe that the world of Cars is ruled by a polytheistic cast of cruel, unforgiving gods.

We know that the cars at least refer to manufacturers like we refer to God. They say, “Thank the manufacturer” and use “Chrysler” as an interjection. I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to say that these references imply that they regard their manufacturers as higher beings. Besides, the metaphor extends fairly easily. God the Creator, Mitsubishi the Manufacturer. It logically follows that cars would regard the source of their life as their god.

We also know that cars can die. I don’t know if it’s confirmed whether or not cars can die of natural causes (though I imagine so because I can’t imagine Doc Hudson dying in a hail of gunfire), but we know that cars die when their bodies are incapacitated. The second movie shows a car getting crushed and dying in a compactor, and the villains threaten to kill Lightning McQueen in their F1 race.

Yet the premise of the second movie is that the manufacturers are discontinuing parts of older cars, spurring spite from disabled cars (referred to as lemons). The lemons fear becoming obsolete as their parts disappear from the market, essentially killing them. This would be the same as if God discontinued lungs for brunettes over the age of fifty-five, leaving them to watch their descent into the darkness. This can only be the act of a cruel god.

And we know that there are multiple manufacturers because the cars refer to them in the movies. Not only do they use Chrysler as an interjection, Lightning McQueen asks Sally what a Porsche is doing in Radiator Springs. Doc’s racing name refers to the car on which his character was based, the Hudson Hornet from the Hudson Motor Company. These casual references establish a pantheon as opposed to a monotheistic religion.

There can only be one conclusion: the world of Cars ruled by a pantheon of heartless gods.

I’m mostly fascinated by what can be speculated from this, specifically where these manufacturers reside. Are they fully automated car companies? Are there humans operating factories? I like to imagine that there are Attack on Titan settlements where humans protect themselves from potential interference from their creation.

I’m not usually one to bait for engagement, but I’d genuinely love to know your theories. Who do you think the manufacturers are? Where did they come from? Please share your ideas in the comments and together, maybe we can find the answers that will put this question to rest.

Tiffany Kajiwara

Tiffany Kajiwara graduated from Calvin in 2022 with majors in literature and writing. Now, she continues to live in Grand Rapids and works at Baker Academic Publishing as a marketing assistant. In her free time, she enjoys crocheting, thrifting, and psychoanalyzing cartoon characters.