James Bobin’s The Muppets [2011] is an attempt at resurrection for a beloved show that has been rendered passé and irrelevant by a stupefying pop culture whose idea of entertainment is Jersey Shore, Keeping Up with the Kardashians, and My Sweet Sixteen. And it knows that — and most of its charm comes from its tongue-in-cheek acknowledgment of these strange times. What I love about it, especially in its first half, is the joy in which the filmmakers know they are making a movie, and a movie for an audience that may not necessarily be there anymore. The winks at the audience are plenty, and this should theoretically distract our acceptance of the film, but surprisingly it doesn’t. If it has to be said, the tone may be ironic, but it’s irony with a lot of warmth and love in it. Perhaps this is because the film makes many of us realize we do miss these characters — Kermit the Frog, Miss Piggy, Fonzi, Gonzo, etcetera etcetera — and that realization comes as a pleasant surprise to us. It’s cinematic nostalgia from a film year replete with it (see The Artist and Hugo). What’s the story? Simple. The beloved Muppet Theater, now dilapidated from neglect, will be torn down by a greedy businessman (Chris Cooper, who knows how to say “maniacal laughter” with such comic gusto) to make way for an oil rig — unless the Muppets can reunite and raise $10 million during a telethon. They’re helped by Amy Adams and Jason Segel and his muppet brother (don’t ask) — and by the end of the film, we learn the value of fraternal love, friendship in trying times, believing in yourself, making do in the face of disappointment, perseverance, and other Walt Disney lessons. It does all that without making us barf — and that, I think, is the magic of the Muppets and why they’ve endured for so long.
Pop-upView Separately

James Bobin’s The Muppets [2011] is an attempt at resurrection for a beloved show that has been rendered passé and irrelevant by a stupefying pop culture whose idea of entertainment is Jersey Shore, Keeping Up with the Kardashians, and My Sweet Sixteen. And it knows that — and most of its charm comes from its tongue-in-cheek acknowledgment of these strange times. What I love about it, especially in its first half, is the joy in which the filmmakers know they are making a movie, and a movie for an audience that may not necessarily be there anymore. The winks at the audience are plenty, and this should theoretically distract our acceptance of the film, but surprisingly it doesn’t. If it has to be said, the tone may be ironic, but it’s irony with a lot of warmth and love in it. Perhaps this is because the film makes many of us realize we do miss these characters — Kermit the Frog, Miss Piggy, Fonzi, Gonzo, etcetera etcetera — and that realization comes as a pleasant surprise to us. It’s cinematic nostalgia from a film year replete with it (see The Artist and Hugo). What’s the story? Simple. The beloved Muppet Theater, now dilapidated from neglect, will be torn down by a greedy businessman (Chris Cooper, who knows how to say “maniacal laughter” with such comic gusto) to make way for an oil rig — unless the Muppets can reunite and raise $10 million during a telethon. They’re helped by Amy Adams and Jason Segel and his muppet brother (don’t ask) — and by the end of the film, we learn the value of fraternal love, friendship in trying times, believing in yourself, making do in the face of disappointment, perseverance, and other Walt Disney lessons. It does all that without making us barf — and that, I think, is the magic of the Muppets and why they’ve endured for so long.

3 Notes/ Hide

  1. i-love-tofu reblogged this from sandwichspy
  2. sandwichspy posted this