Just about every year, it seems that there is one movie that I
anticipate above all others. While 2011 had many promising candidates –
including my beloved Winnie the Pooh and Harry Potter facing off against
each other in the middle of summer – there was one film that had me
aquiver with excitement from the time I first heard rumors of its
release. Of course, it helped that it had the cleverest, most persistent
ad campaign of any movie I can recall, expertly spoofing multiple
genres while demonstrating its ability to appeal to a broad audience.
I’m speaking, naturally, of The Muppets, the James Bobin-directed
movie that launches Kermit the Frog and all his felt friends onto the
big screen for the first time in more than a decade. While television
specials and viral videos have helped them maintain a presence in recent
years, The Muppets feels like a joyous return to the glory days of those madcap mischief-makers whose merriment brought mirth to millions.
It takes a special kind of person to get the Muppets in such a visceral
way as to be able to revive them for a cynical generation. When I heard
that Jason Segel was not just starring but actually co-writing the
screenplay, I thought, “You know, this could be a very good thing.”
While some of his recent projects have had a decidedly off-color streak,
I will always recall Segel first as sweetly goofy aspiring drummer Nick
Andopolis on the sadly short-lived high school dramedy Freaks and Geeks,
and the endearing idealism he brought to that character seems a perfect
fit for Jim Henson’s relentlessly positive creations. Together with
Nicholas Stoller, he crafted a screenplay as innocent as it is exuberant
– a movie that dares to demonstrate that there is room in this world
for hope, togetherness and splashy musical numbers… and maybe an
ill-timed explosion or two.
Segel plays Gary, a lovable
grown-up kid who still shares a house with his little brother, his best
friend. The brotherly affection between Gary and Walter, earnestly
voiced by Peter Linz, is so genuine that it never feels weird that one
is a man and one is a Muppet. In fact, it hearkens back to the peculiar
brotherhood between Kermit and Fozzie Bear in The Great Muppet Caper.
These are characters who have always transcended the traditional
boundaries of family. Still, living in a tiny town surrounded by humans,
Walter feels out of place, even with the world’s most supportive big
brother looking out for him. His discovery of the Muppets as a child
quickly bloomed into an obsession, a dream of a different destiny. Now,
years later, Walter is childlike as ever and about to achieve a lifelong
dream. But what kind of growing up will be required for him to take
that all-important step?
Walter is truly the heart of the
movie, a representation of those devoted fans for whom the luster of the
Muppets has never dimmed. Like Kermit in The Muppet Movie, he is a dreamer in search of a connection, but because The Muppet Show
pointed the way for him, he knows just where to find it. It’s a story
of self-discovery, of letting go and reconnecting, and all those who
ever laughed until they cried over Gonzo’s cannon-shot chickens and
Fozzie’s groan-worthy jokes will understand the euphoria emblazoned on
Walter’s flexible face as his heroes gradually gather for a raucous
reunion.
These are the viewers who will best appreciate all of
the in-jokes and the cameos from lesser-known Muppets, to say nothing
of the wistfully funny situations in which the main players find
themselves. The newly initiated, meanwhile, can have fun pointing out
all the human celebrities, from contemporary child stars Selena Gomez
and Modern Family’s Rico Rodriguez to elder statesmen Mickey
Rooney and Alan Arkin. Jack Black gets more screen time than most as
Animal’s disgruntled anger management sponsor, and I’m sure I’m not the
only one who geeked out over the revelation of who Walter would look
like if he were human.
Then, of course, a menacing Chris
Cooper is the oil baron darkly commiserating with his paltry band of
sycophants as the fate of the Muppet Studio Theatre hangs in balance,
while Amy Adams brings her usual brand of sunshine with a spritzer of
vulnerability to Mary, a hands-on teacher so beloved by her students
they dread spring break but unable to secure a commitment from the man
she’s dated for a decade. Like Segel, she seems a perfect fit for the
Muppets’ harmonious mayhem.
Speaking of harmonies, there are
some great ones in this movie that features several original songs
written by Bret McKenzie, one-half of the brilliantly batty New Zealand
folk-comedy duo Flight of the Conchords.
His style meshes marvelously with the Muppets’ fine fusion of silliness
and warmth, with the two standouts the soul-searching duet between the
brothers and the lavish group number we hear at both the beginning and
end of the movie. Beyond that, we get classic Muppet fare like Rainbow Connection and Mahna Mahna
with a new twist or two, along with a few regular radio hits. If I’d
had any lingering doubt as to whether they were going to pull this off, I
would have relinquished it in sheer delight over the opening montage
set to the sprightly strains of a song Paul Simon once performed on Sesame Street.
However, even before the movie started I was grinning over the Toy Story short Small Fry,
which pokes fun at poorly conceived kids’ meal toys at fast food
restaurants. On a trip to a medieval-themed chicken joint, Buzz
Lightyear falls prey to a nefarious plot by a miniature Buzz who has
languished too long in the display case. After a romp in the ball pit,
Little Buzz makes his way into Bonnie’s backpack to hobnob with Woody
and the gang while the real Buzz wanders into a group therapy session
for discarded toys led by a militant mermaid voiced by Jane Lynch. Askew
versions of beloved characters and a bunch of oddballs finding solace
in each other appropriately foreshadows what’s to come in the movie
proper.
More than 15 years ago, Pixar established itself as a
studio capable of bringing that rare blend of sly wit and wholesome fun
that, coupled with a compelling story, makes an ideal family film. The
Jim Henson Company has always offered that type of entertainment, so The Muppets
is truly a joy from pre-start to finish. While reflecting upon the
wonders of the rainbow, a famous frog has postulated, “We know that it’s
probably magic.” If we’re talking about the rainbow of marvelous
misfits that make up the Muppets, there’s no “probably” about it.
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