Pixar’s “Cars” films have somehow turned into one of the most philosophical film franchises of the modern age. 

The questions are endless and unanswerable. If, as “Cars” (2006) shows in its post-credits, there are car versions of every Pixar film within the “Cars” universe, is the “Cars” version of “Cars” about humans? Does the existence of a car pope in “Cars 2” (2011) mean that there was a car Jesus who died for car sins, sparking Car-tholicism? I’ve gone down so many great YouTube rabbit holes populated by people who just can’t suspend their belief for these details, despite how silly they may be.

Most of my favorites revolve around what the cars are, exactly. The cars eat real food, but also drink oil and gas throughout the franchise. They’re also made of mechanical parts, but also have eyes, teeth and infamously, tongues. 

Are they alive? Are they mechanical? A blend of both? And given that, how do they grow, age, reproduce or die? 

My apologies for ruining (or enhancing) your favorite childhood film, but it’s necessary to discuss a very consequential plot point that Pixar played out in “Cars 3” (2017).

In the film, Lightning McQueen (Owen Wilson) has to learn to cope with the fact that he is simply not as fast as he used to be, and that the youthful talent around him is faster than ever due to new technology and developments in their training regimen. 

Earlier in the franchise, McQueen deals with the death of his mentor, three-time Piston Cup Champion Doc Hudson (Paul Newman). These two details make it clear that the rules of “Cars” dictate that cars do age, similarly to human beings, and they eventually die. 

This is inexplicable to me. Sure, real-life cars do break down. Machines are typically no more immortal than man. But, theoretically, if you had infinite money and replaced broken down parts with new parts consistently, couldn’t a car stay young and healthy forever?

When McQueen’s transmission is not what it used to be, why can’t he just get a new one? Being a championship athlete, McQueen must have a decent bit of cash from salary and endorsements.  It seems like even if he can’t live forever, he surely could have an “athletic” prime longer than a real person. 

And yet, 11 years after his dynamic rookie season, McQueen is already fizzling out in “Cars 3.” A common complaint about the “Cars” franchise is that the audience sees very little of McQueen in his prime; he never actually wins a Piston Cup onscreen despite canonically being a multi-time champion. 

It all makes “Cars 3” a weird film to reflect back on, especially given the fact that we are still watching LeBron James play basketball. 

James’s first NBA game was in 2003, three years prior to McQueen’s silver screen debut. And here we are, eight years after McQueen ended his comeback attempt to give Cruz Ramirez (Cristela Alonzo) a shot, and LeBron is still averaging a near triple-double on over 50% shooting.

He’s not the only example either. Tom Brady first hit the gridiron six years before “Cars” and he stuck around five years after “Cars 3” as well. And even though he’s retired, rumors still fly about Brady’s potential return to football annually. 

How can these people have 20+ year careers of elite athleticism while McQueen is limited to basically half that time? Again, he’s a literal machine! All of his parts are prone to breaking down but they’re also all replaceable. 

So, when it comes to representing the longevity of the modern legendary athlete, “Cars 3” falls short of the finish line. But it does do something that real athletes have had trouble with recently: set a successor up for, well, success. 

Throughout the third film, McQueen trains and teaches Ramirez about racing history, helping her better blend modern technology and technique with the reverence for legendary race cars that help her approach greatness as a balanced blend of innovation and tradition. 

I’m left with more questions than answers, about “Cars” and veteran leadership in the NBA. But at least I know who the next face of Rust-eze racing is going to be. 

And “Cars 3” may not be a perfect film but the climactic scene, where Ramirez pushes off the wall and flips over Jackson Storm to win the big race, gives me chills to this day. It’s because of that reverence for history: Ramirez reveres McQueen who reveres Hudson, and that reverence exists because McQueen selflessly took Ramirez under his wing. Perhaps Pixar sacrificed showcasing on-screen excellence from McQueen to make this point. I’ll admit it’s a good one.

Because much like McQueen, I hope we all can care less if people remember the Piston Cups and instead devote our energy to serving the next generation. 

Ethan Inman is a senior writing about sports films that have taken on a new meaning compared to when they were released. His column,“The 35mm Yard Line,” runs every other Thursday, and he is also a sports editor for the Daily Trojan.