In the DVD commentary, Stanton makes it clear he never intended to make a film solely about consumerism. Instead, he wanted it to focus on the ways in which we pry ourselves from what he called “life’s programming.” The journey of WALL-E is indicative of that theme: He’s a robotic Sisyphus eternally stacking the garbage humankind has left behind, until he’s shaken from his routine by the arrival of EVE. In following her out of love to the Axiom, he reveals an empathy long absent still exists on Earth, and like the plant his robot sweetheart carries, he shares it with humanity.

For one, he helps initiate quite possibly the first romance on the Axiom in generations between the two humans, Mary and John. Not only do they share a tender moment watching WALL-E and EVE dance in space, but they can also be seen later attempting to enjoy a pool neither of them ever noticed before. It’s a beautiful piece of irony to have a robotic relationship spur a human one, but “WALL-E” has no qualms about the source of such emotions — only that they draw us all closer together.

Yet the most dramatic transformation comes from Captain McCrea, who manages to stand up on his own two feet in defiance of the nefarious Auto, undoing generations of evolutionary neoteny. It’s a transformation that’s later mirrored by WALL-E after his injuries revert him to a version that doesn’t recognize EVE and returns to purposelessly stacking garbage. A kiss reboots him back to his personable self, though, revealing, like with McCrea, that such empathy can override all of life’s programming.