The Muppets: "Life's a Happy Song When There's Someone By Your Side to Sing Along"

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.

Mickey Rooney Steps Into the Santa Suit for the First Time

I happened upon Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town this evening, which prompted me to look up my review and see what I had written about it way back when. But lo and behold, when I mused about Rudolph, the Heat and Snow Misers and Nestor, I somehow managed to leave out this Rankin and Bass gem. Time to amend the situation.

Like most Rankin and Bass Christmas specials, this one centers around a particular holiday song and uses it as a way for the narrator, a cheery mailman voiced by Fred Astaire, to provide a framework within which to place the story of the origins of Santa Claus. Of course, it's all a bunch of stuff that writer Romeo Muller made up, so it's sort of silly to listen to the mailman going on and on about how all these things actually happened. Nonetheless, the creative story does seem to tap into the legend of St Nicholas to some small extent, though it doesn't come right out and say so.

Mickey Rooney, who later played the crotchety old Santa in my favorite of the Rankin and Bass specials, gives voice to dashing young Kris Kringle, the boy raised by tiny toymakers. As a young man, he sets out to Sombertown, a dreary village where toys have been outlawed by the grouchy Burgermeister Meisterburger (Paul Frees), whose rules are enforced by his devoted lackey Grimsby (also Frees). Obviously, this interferes with his mission to deliver toys to all the children there, but he isn't too concerned about breaking what he considers to be a ridiculous law.

So the young Kris becomes a noble outlaw, aided by the penguin Topper and the initially disapproving but soon smitten Jessica (Robie Lester). They exercise civil disobedience, refusing to kowtow to an unjust ruler - though Kris does kindly offer the Burgermeister a yoyo, momentarily winning him over. His victory with the ferocious Winter Warlock (comical Disney baddie Keenan Wynn), an ancient magical being who threatens him on his journey between Somberland and home, is more lasting, imparting the value of reaching out to those who have been persecutors and offering them kindness instead of disdain. Put One Foot in Front of the Other, Kris' duet with the rejuvenated warlock, is probably my favorite of the songs written for the special and the one that holds up best out of context.

Claymation isn't the smoothest way to make a movie, and plenty of scenes come across as a bit choppy. That's part of the charm. If I were experiencing it for the first time, as my friend did while over at my house last year, I might raise an eyebrow like she did. But Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town is much too deeply ingrained in my banks of nostalgia for that. When this precursor to The Year Without a Santa Claus comes to town, I'll be watching!

Robin Williams Brings Sage Serenity to Madcap Museum Comedy

When we were very young, my family went to a museum and were greeted inside by a massive Tyrannosaurus Rex. It was only a model, of course, but that didn't stop my brother from being so freaked out that he ran screaming from the building. I can only imagine what his reaction would have been had he found himself face to face with the suddenly animated T-Rex in Night at the Museum.

I first saw previews for this Ben Stiller blockbuster back in June, and while it wasn't at the top of my must-see list, I was still pretty intrigued. A-list cast, PG rating, havoc in a museum... What's not to love? But I didn't catch the movie until it played on my family's return flight from California last month. They weren't the most ideal viewing conditions, squinting into the small screen with a cloudy head brought on by motion sickness medication, but I focused as best I could and managed to get the gist of it pretty well.

Larry Daley is the typical Stiller schmuck. His career history is shoddy at best, to the point that his own son, Nick (Jake Cherry), who lives primarily with his mother, looks down on him, so when he manages to land a job as a night watchman at the Museum of Natural History, he keeps it despite the very strange occurrences that plague him his first night on the job, and of which the mysterious trio who hired him (Dick Van Dyke, Mickey Rooney, Bill Cobbs) gave him little warning.

The trouble? Everything in the museum comes to life at night. The T-Rex bounds down the hallways, wanting to play catch. Teddy Roosevelt (Robin Williams) distributes sage advice and makes eyes at Sacajawea (Mizuo Peck). Ornery cowboy Jedediah (Owen Wilson) and ferocious Attila the Hun (Patrick Gallagher) provide numerous headaches, and an ill-tempered monkey launches himself upon Larry whenever he has the chance. How is this happening? Is there a way to make it stop? Is it worth risking life and limb for a measly ten bucks an hour?

It isn't long before we discover the esteemed elder statesmen have a trick or two up their sleeves, but it's long enough that Larry has formed an attachment to some of his unconventional charges and is concerned enough about their welfare to launch an offensive against the threesome's nefarious plans, which means several overloaded action sequences packed with special effects and more jokes involving the bodily functions of monkeys than should be allowed in one movie.

It's a feast for the eyes, albeit a very chaotic one, as characters from dioramas spanning the centuries clash or cooperate with one another. There's little to cause great offense, aside from the aforementioned potty humor, which one comes to expect from Stiller but which is toned down considerably here. He's a likable guy - much more likable, incidentally, than his sanctimonious son - and though the love interest angle takes a major backseat to the rest of the action, Rebecca (Carla Gugino), the apple of his eye, seems like a decent potential match.

The cast stand-outs, however, are the devious, hilarious trio played by Van Dyke, Rooney and Cobbs - of whom the former two are among my favorite actors, though I haven't seen much of either of them lately - and Williams in a surprisingly serene role. He's the voice of reason in all the madness that is the museum, without whom Larry (whom he insists on calling "Lawrence") would be hopelessly lost. And yet he's only emulating the real Teddy, so toward the end we see this strong mentorly figure steeped in vulnerability, and it's really quite touching.

Williams really is the factor that pushes this movie beyond pure silliness; that sobering touch improves the film a great deal. Night at the Museum is still a puffy piece of entertainment, and there's nothing wrong with that, but thanks to a little help from an esteemed former president, it's just a little bit more.