Fuzzy memories of crowding around a monstrous 1990s-model, rear-projection, wood-panelled TV at some family gathering in my childhood are probably the first things that come to mind when I think of the Muppets.
Yeah, it was Christmas and The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992) was set on mindless repeat mode on some station that had already had its way with A Christmas Story (1983) and How the Grinch Stole Christmas (1966). Growing up and watching any of the Muppets movies that were on TV, I remember feeling an overwhelming sense of confusion; I had no idea why these funny-looking creatures were reenacting a very mature Charles Dickens’ story, nor did I pick up on the fact that they were all subversively poking fun at how ludicrous the entire thing was. Fast-forward nearly 20 years, and it is the exploitation of this underlying, self-reflexive humour that makes The Muppets so funny.
Written by funny buddies Jason Segel and Nick Stoller, The Muppets tells the story of Gary (Jason Segel) and his Muppet-born brother Walter (Peter Linz) who have grow up idolizing the Muppets. When Walter, Gary, and his girlfriend Mary (Amy Adams) learn of an evil oil Tycoon’s plan to demolish the Muppets’ old studio, they try to rally the help of the now-defunct Muppet acting troupe in order to save their beloved, old stomping grounds.
I won’t lie: I’m a pretty big fan of Jason Segel, and hearing that his name was even attached to this project, I was both excited and frightened. While he has proven himself to be comedically consistent, taking on this franchise is indeed a daunting task, especially because the “Muppets-must-hustle-to-save-the-day” story is an old and worn out one. But what took me by surprise was how aware director James Bobin, Segel, and the other contributors to the film were of this as well. This Muppets movie is not trying to take itself seriously and instead provides a neat meta-commentary on the “Muppetverse.” Walter is a Muppet who is obsessed with Muppets in a film that is always playfully breaking the fourth wall and includes the audience in a way that doesn’t confuse its sense of humour.
This is why seeing characters speak straight into the camera and say that they need to include a montage to take up time, or watching the troupe decide to “travel by map” (a function in Kermit’s dusty Rolls Royce that allows them to move across continents in mere seconds as a red line on a map), it compels the viewer to step back and recognize that this film isn’t really taking itself seriously at all. Suddenly, The Muppets are not so strange anymore.
Watching The Muppets is like watching a PG-rated frat pack comedy, but the jokes about booze, weed, and endless references to both male and female genitalia are replaced with witty musical inserts and sassy, furry, little creatures. The Muppets is well worth seeing, if not for its endless line of well-timed celebrity cameos, then definitely because it reminds us that in a family entertainment industry ruled by Pixar animated features, these fuzzy little guys still have something new to offer.
