Somewhat abandoned by their 'master' in an isolated summer cabin, Toaster and the other appliances keep out a faint hope that he will return to reclaim them while keeping the place neat and tidy. After a “For Sale” sign is stuck outside the cabin it becomes apparent that he might not be seeking them out, Toaster decides enough is enough and talks the others into risking their collective cords in an expedition to the unknown dangers of the outside world.

Joining Toaster are: Lampy, a none-too-bright desk lamp who has a bit of a short fuse, at least when it comes to Radio’s jives and taunts. Radio is, as another reviewer put it, a compulsive liar with some sort of complex along the lines of 1930 and 40’s radio personalities. Kirby is a grumpy, cantankerous sort, who complaints a lot but goes with the flow of things anyway. Last of all is Blankie, who is a wet blanket through and through, with an one-dimensional personality, mostly along the lines of whining and crying, to the point were you’d think that he’s the one who is really in need of a security blanket himself. Toaster him/herself (it never made clear which, but nevermind) is a near too nice goody two-shoes who if not for a slightly repressed temper and the fact that he’s both the sanest and in-sanest of the bunch if his dreams are anything to go bye (mind you, if I were an anthropomorphic Toaster, demonic clown firemen and killer forks would probably scare me a bit too). Of course, like Kermit from the Muppets, Toaster is effectively the group’s straight-man (or is that Straight-Toaster?).

Quest films – which this is one – either get by with the protagonists doing interesting things or else meeting interesting characters, or with large, breath stealing action scenes, or having the character/s grow in someway. Packed action scenes are a bit beyond the film's budget, although it does have a few moments of dramatic tension and mild action, so it goes with the others and it works, if in a roundabout sort of way. The characters do grow, as a group if not maybe as complete individuals, one could say that the one who grows the most from the experience is Lampy, whose mild selfishness dissipates. The whole thing is a good fun film, at least to me, partly because of the overall sombre mood, but also because it is unlike any other film that you expect it be following. It has enough bizarre moments of animated whimsy and faux horror, that it belies any preconceptions you might have at the premise of cute appliances having adventure. And yet these strange whimsical events somehow work, though in some instances they have little to do with the rest of the film.

The whole notion of inanimate objects coming to life when humans aren’t around is not really a new one, but it had rarely been handled with the degree of earnestness that Toaster enjoys. The rules that bind the appliances seem to be similar to those which bind other such stories, only without the 12 o’clock curfew that happens on some earlier works, from The Mouse and His Child, to a few shorts of Warner’s and Disney.

Toaster is a musical, albeit one whose songs are unlikely to find favour with everyone’s taste. Let say it depends on how much you like electrically symphonised eighties music, as well as songs about metaphoric death. Personally I didn’t mind any of the songs of the film and even liked two: “It's a 'B' Movie” and “Cutting Edge”. For some reason the journey song at the start of the film was cut out of one version of the film I’ve seen (as well as Toaster’s dream, but that is somewhat less surprising).

The premise of the film works fine, as does the not-quite theatrical but better than most TV animation that it utilises. Its music and themes are two things that might divide viewers, yet if you’re looking for a nice simple quest story with quite dark metaphors and strange concepts, then Brave Little Toaster does fit the bill.