The Muppets

One of the joyous refrains of the buoyant original song, "Life's a Happy Song," states "we've got everything that we need," and that just might refer to the delightful and inspired silliness that ensues throughout the manic and almost entirely blissful one-hundred minutes of The Muppets.  The greatest achievement of the film is that it reminds you just how much missed this ragtag group of misfits and their endlessly endearing showmanship.  First concocted for variety television by Jim Henson, the latest film incarnation is heavily steeped in nostalgia with enough fourth-wall nudging that one suspects it should come close to falling apart at every turn.  Directed by James Bobin, whose crafted subversive silliness on Da Ali G Show and The Flight of the Concords keeps it loose and focused, even while it's gloriously untethered, while writers Jason Segal and Nicholas Stoller relish in nearly fan-boy awe, scripting a tale that at once holds the whole Muppet crew on such a pedestal while distilling the same uncanny one-liners and panache for spectacle that made them so utterly charming to begin with.  The least ironic child will surely be humming along and become instantly besotted with gang, even on first encounter, while the tougher to bend, most ironic adult will surely not themselves from the instant rush and overly mirth that comes from the film.  The Muppets might just save the world come to think of it...

First we meet Walter, an outcast puppet-like boy with a whimsy and spirit and an encouraging older brother named Gary (Segal.)  His world is changed by The Muppet Show, the first representation of him on television; Walter being from Smalltown, America, this is a big deal.  There's probably a deeper metaphor there, and perhaps an apt one on one's personal struggle for universal acceptance, but who cares-- this is a Muppet movie, and in the end, the let's-put-on-a-show song and dance is far more fun.  Through happenstance, Walter makes it to Los Angeles to visit his dreamland, the ole Muppet Studios alongside big bro and his neglected but absolutely adorable girlfriend of ten years, Mary (played with Enchanted-like cutesy-ness by Amy Adams.)  The problem, it's a ruin, the Muppets long parted ways, their old stomping grounds a relic of the past, and currently while an evil robber baron Tex Richman (Chris Cooper) plots to take over the property due to rumors that oil runs beneath...malicious laugh.  Not to fear, Walter has a plan-- reunite the Muppet gang and bring them back to splendor, reviving their storied studio as well as their fame.  First step-- find Kermit the Frog.

The most amusing bits (and that's saying quite a lot) is reuniting the old gang in gloriously silly and insipid fashion.  Fozzie Bear is stuck in a sad Muppets cover band in a greasy lounge in Reno.  Gonzo has become a successful toilet entrepreneur, while Animal is in anger management tempted by his drums to a startling degree.  Statler and Waldorf are still cranky.  That's the spark and the note that reminds this isn't an underlying cynical film of Muppets gone irrelevant, but a fun and spirit resurrection of something that many might (including myself) have realized they didn't know they missed.  There's still that dash of irreverence, whimsical mischief, celebrity cameos (Jack Black is a real sport) and songs that made them so damned likeable to begin with.  The one holdout on the Muppet reunion is, but of course, Miss Piggy, living extravagantly Kermit-free in Paris as the high powered editor of the plus-sized division of Vogue...Emily Blunt gives a juicy cameo parodying her Devil Wears Prada role.  Rashida Jones matches as a cynical, overly latte-ed network executive.

The joy of The Muppets as always has had nothing to do with plot, but with bits-- the endless barrage of hit and miss sight gags all thrown up in the air, only to land with a big giant smirk on its audiences face.  And while time may have fattened the scope a bit-- for instance Walter, the newest muppet begins a bigger slog as the picture continues, and Gary and Mary become more and more irrelevant as well, there's that joyous showmanship that reigns superior.  For Fozzie the Bear may now come equipped with fart shoes, he still utters "Wawka Wawka" with singular stupid grace, for everything old is new again and vice versa; as long as The Muppets can keep the happy tune afloat, not to sound a total dork, I have everything I need.  A-