Disney’s first stab at the muppets post-Henson, the 2011 feature film The Muppets, was almost immaculate. The character of Walter was a master-stroke, both an entry-level proxy for the new generation of kids encountering Jim Henson’s phantasmagoric creatures for the first time, and a reminder to old fogeys like me of how much the muppets meant to them and how excited we were to see them again.
The muppets themselves weren’t quite as anarchic or unpredictable as they’d been in their 70s/80s heyday – alluded to in the movie itself through Animal being constrained from indulging his destructive impulses by way of self-help therapy – but what the movie lacked in chaos it made up for in reverence, well-earned sweetness, a plethora of genuinely catchy musical numbers and laugh-out loud moments. Disney had captured lightning in a bottle, but didn’t appear to know what to do with it once they had it, as evidenced by 2014’s Muppets Most Wanted, a sequel that was watchable, though lacklustre and lacking in heart.
ABC’s The Muppets – the 2015 behind-the-scenes mockumentary that was cancelled after one season – showed staggered promise, but, again, the showrunners fatally misunderstood the property. The result was an ill-judged, frequently insipid, tonal mish-mash that alienated long-time admirers like me, and failed to ignite adoration in those coming to the muppets cold. Instead they were left cold. What I want to know is, who looked at the muppets and thought, ‘I know what’ll reinvigorate this franchise: multiple references to Kermit the Frog’s sex life.’ In the end, The Muppets new TV series wasn’t bold or edgy enough to work as an all-out, adults-only entry in the canon, but it was too adult to appeal to children. So who the hell was it for?
And now we have Disney’s Muppets Now, a show perhaps cynically designed to capitalise on the Zoom-era zeitgeist at a time when most TV shows have been crippled, cancelled or postponed by the creep of the coronavirus.
The show follows Scooter’s attempts to cobble together an online extravaganza from the filmed segments sent across to him by his co-stars, uploaded before our very eyes as we watch the episode, while Kermit frets and frowns.
The first of these segments is Life Sty, wherein Miss Piggy explores beauty, style and showbiz pizzazz, featuring guest appearances by actor/singer Taye Diggs and actress Linda Cardellini. Next comes little Walter’s showcase of his fellow muppet’s lesser-known talents, this week turning the spotlight on Kermit’s almost supernatural talent for photo-bombing. The Swedish chef is next, hurdy-gurdying through a cook-off with celebrity chef Carlina Will, before Kermit tops it off with a one-on-one (well, several-on-one) interview with Ru Paul.
And it was, you know… Okay. A bit flat. I watched it with my two young kids, 5 and 3, and they were bored for most of it. Things weren’t much better over on my side of the age divide; I sat stony-faced for the most part. I enjoyed bits of it, but again I was left wondering, ‘Who is this for? What is this for?’
The Piggy segment was one-note and predictable. The cooking segment – by far the worst – felt like exactly that: a cooking segment; an insipid piece of fluffery you might find on a magazine show like The One Show or Saturday Morning Kitchen, but without even those show’s intermittently successful attempts at good-natured humour. The Swedish chef seemed incidental to his own showcase. He was no longer the agent of chaos I’d enjoyed watching as a child (and an adult, I hasten to add). He Just seemed disgruntled and mean-spirited. More inexcusably still, he just wasn’t funny. My kids agreed.
And what the hell has become of Kermit? I’m a Henson purist, but even still I came to appreciate and enjoy Steve Whitmire’s take on the world’s most famous amphibian. Matt Vogel is the latest actor to puppet and voice Kermit following Whitmire’s acrimonious departure from the franchise in 2017, and he’s just not Kermity enough. Vogel’s evocation/impression – whatever you want to call it – is poor to the point where I think I would be better at it, and his attempt to capture the character leaves Kermit’s green feeling distinctly grey.
Did Kermit turn to valium after his last show was cancelled? Is that the in-show explanation?
It’s telling that the strongest segment is the photo-bomb one; a segment containing two muppets and precisely zero humans. It’s very funny, and uses its characters well. Likewise, the interplay between Uncle Deadly and Miss Piggy is a genuine joy to behold. Again, it’s an interaction that doesn’t need a celebrity guest to make it work. It’s already there in the script.
Disney seems to be labouring under the misapprehension that it is the muppets’ celebrity guests that have always made the brand work; made people watch. Sure, the original Muppet Show had a different celebrity cameo every week – everyone from Elton John to Steve Martin to the cast of Star Wars – but the appearances never felt like celebrity-for-celebrity’s sake. While the show’s guest stars added a direction, a feel and a flavour to their particular episode, people would watch it whether they were there or not: there was never any doubt that the muppets had top billing. There’s something depressing and par-for-the-course about the modern iterations of the muppets trying to shoehorn in as many celebrity appearances as possible. Even when the original series featured a star that few people had heard of, the magic was still there. Not so now.
While I agree that change and re-contextualisation often can re-invigorate a long-running property, not every revived show needs I-Phones, shaky-cams, Zoom calls or numerous nods to contemporaneous social mores. Call me a cranky cultural conservative if you like. I suppose I am when it comes to the muppets, the first show I remember watching as a very small child.
I hope the next five episodes of Muppets Now contain something to make this old man and his own little muppets chuckle, or even smile. But if that turns out not to be the case, then let’s hope that someone at Disney works out that the best way to capture the energy and essence of these furry, fuzzy, fun-lovin’ little critters is to let them come home. Put them back in their theatre, re-cast a credible Kermit, and then, frankly, leave them the fuck alone to do their thing.
