Well, I’ve found the audio equivalent of terrorism.  I’ve been singing this for literal days.  Thanks, Philip Balsam.

Being a younger brother is tough.  Bean wants to assist his older siblings Twitch and Lugsy with decorating the glade for the much anticipated yearly bunny picnic, but they are dismissive of his potential contributions.  Lugsy is a big strong bunny, see, and he can’t be bothered by some palooka who can’t reach the top of the bushes when it’s only a few hours before the storyteller rolls up in his bucket to kick off this wingding.  Whether the assumption is warranted or not, Bean’s very vivid imagination has given him the reputation of a liar, with his other siblings constantly doubting the validity of his statements.  This becomes particularly problematic when Bean is later accosted by a real-life dog.

Up close he’s so stinkin’ cute, but these wide shots where you can tell the dog and the farmer are humans in costumes is somehow incredibly unsettling to me.

Bean, separated from his family on the way back from 4GG’s, falls asleep in the bushes because his weird grandma, who is a bit of a scientist in her spare time, was making a sleeping potion in her house and Bean got a killer contact high.  The dog stumbles upon Bean again and this time is clever enough to know that tracking the bunny to where all the bunnies live instead of scaring a singular bunny off is a better long-term strategy.  When Bean Bunny stalls out, however, it doesn’t take the patient dog long before he succumbs to a similar fate, leaving Bean to scurry off once he wakes up.  But much like Cinderella, Bean leaves his scarf behind and the dog, once he’s alert again, uses it to track Bean’s scent the rest of the way to the bunny glen.

Meanwhile, the storyteller arrives for the picnic and Twitch and Lugsy are immediately distracted from finding out where the fuck their brother went.  The storyteller is a wise head, see, wearing glad rags and dropping darbs of knowledge.  You’d think they wouldn’t revere the storyteller much with the way Bean’s imagination seems to personally offend them.

There’s something delightfully meta about the puppets sitting around watching a puppet show.

The bunnies are able to scatter and hide in their holes, and while Bean is fantasizing about being another shrewd animal, he comes up with a scheme to scare away the dog for good and enlists his bunny buddies to enact his plan.  Even though Bean had this brilliant idea, his brother Lugsy automatically takes over the preparation activities assuming Bean incompetent.  Wanting to be perceived as the high pillow he is, Lugsy takes the perilous trek to 4GG’s house to grab her weird sleeping potion to drug the dog – A task that is eggs in the coffee for Lugsy while Bean is behind the eight-ball.  Bean is so frustrated with Lugsy he initially tells him to go climb up his thumb, but in Lugsy’s absence Bean starts to regret the horrible things he said to his brother and decides to climb up a tree to watch for Lugsy’s return.  On Lugsy’s way back, however, Bean is so excited when he spots Lugsy unharmed that he balls up and alerts the dog of his approaching brother.  Lugsy is then nailed by the pup.

“I’ve got a bunny! I’ve got a bunny!”

My dog Chloe had a similar reaction when she found a nest of baby bunnies in the backyard, which traumatized me and the high-pitched squealing furball she was trying to play with.

With Lugsy out of commission, Bean is forced to play Lugsy’s role in their plan, reluctantly and ominously stating, “I’ll be on top and I’ll do the talking.”  Mood.

Throughout the story, when Bean is scared he disassociates and pretends he’s something bigger that will protect him – A fire breathing dragon, a weasel, a nasty old owl, a clever giant hedgehog, a giant tree…

These are truly cursed amalgamations of Bean on other bodies, but I would take either of these over This Giant Bunny costume they cooked up.

Whoops, sorry, that’s another big bunny and delicious dog.

Cursed.  This is cursed.  If I were the dog I wouldn’t stick around to talk to it.

The dog, being a terrified captive audience, is receptive when Mr. Giant Bunny tells him he won’t hurt him because “those who hurt others hurt themselves”.  The dog frees Lugsy, but only moments before Bean unravels at the word “stew” like it’s part of his sleeper cell activation sequence.  The Giant Bunny falls apart and while the rest of the bunnies disperse the dog nabs Bean.

It’s at this moment the farmer shows up and Bean realizes the farmer is the dog’s giant hedgehog and this little bunny’s unending empathy leads him to protect the pup.  When the dog tells Bean the farmer is allergic to bunnies, Bean bravely approaches the farmer to scare him away with sneezes.

Bean’s bravery finally earns Lugsy’s respect and they mend fences.  After introductions between all the relieved and united parties, the dog regrettably admits he doesn’t have a name.  Be-Bop the bunny suggests De-Dop-De-Diddly-Dog-Bop, which, y’know, they could’ve workshopped a bit… But everyone loves it.  De-Dop agrees to stay in the glade permanently, and I dunno what this dog is going to eat living on the land with a bunch of bunnies, but I’m choosing not to be horrified by this or imagine a world where a bunny gets sacrificed every week so they can keep De-Diddly-Dog-Bop on as a furry protector.

Flash forward to the future, we see Grandpa Bean assume his perfect vocation as the town storyteller and oh my god, I’m not getting teary-eyed at this…

“And so, the bunnies lived happily ever after with their friend Mr. De-Dop-De-Diddly-Dog-Bop.”
“Ohhhhh, I just love that story.”

 JESUS CHRIST COLLEEN STOP CRYING.

The Tale of the Bunny Picnic is a delightful story of the contentious relationship we can have with our siblings.  You may rag on your little brother, but if someone else tries to shove him in a sack and put him in a stew they’re gonna be sleeping with the fishes, see.  Little brothers can also be brave even if they’re small in stature, and while you may not understand their Pan’s Labrynth-esque coping mechnisms, their imagination makes life more colorful and interesting.  So, give your little brother a break sometimes.  He may be forced to carry a goose 20x his size down several streets for an old man on Christmas and that will be punishment enough.

The post Movie Minute: The Tale of the Bunny Picnic (1986) appeared first on Welcome to Oaty McLoafy!.

Merry Christmas!  Since 2024 was and continues to be an absolute clusterfuck by every measurable standard, I’m going off-book and covering something short, sweet, and uncomplicated – a Muppet TV special from 1977 that is based on a children’s book written by Russell and Lillian Hoban that is basically a singing woodland critter reskin of O Henry’s “The Gift of the Magi”.

Emmet and Ma are down-on-their-luck otters struggling to make ends meet after Pa Otter’s death.  Ma runs a laundry business by washing other people’s clothes in her washtub and Emmet does odd jobs around town using his Pa’s old tools to repair things like broken-down steps and fences.  With Christmas soon approaching, they prepare for yet another disappointing holiday season devoid of presents and feasts of food.  They instead make-do with what they have, decorating a sole Christmas branch that gives the Charlie Brown tree a run for its money.

This isn’t to say they don’t have dreams of what could be.  Emmet Otter wistfully yearns for a new guitar with real mother-of-pearl inlays, and Ma reminisces about Christmases before they had to sell her piano to keep afloat.  It’s a good thing Waterville is holding a conveniently-timed Talent Contest with the winner earning a whole $50.  That kind of money could buy some bitchin’ X-mas gifts.

Emmet’s friends convince him to join a jug band, forcing Emmet to begrudgingly put a hole in his mother’s washtub to make a washtub bass and maybe win $13 to put a down payment on a used piano.  Ma Otter, upon hearing of the contest, decides to hock Emmet’s tools to buy fabric to make a costume so she can win $50 and get Emmet that guitar.  ‘Cause you can’t sing on stage without a costume for some reason??  While it was a tough decision for them both, Emmet and Ma are comforted by the fact Pa Otter, a snake oil salesman, would have made the same decision and uh…

Not to poor-shame these otters, but they are not fiscally responsible at all and I’m starting to understand why they’re in the position they’re in.

Conversely, the characters in “The Gift of the Magi” selflessly sell something valuable of their own in order to buy their loved one a present on Christmas, showing that the gift of giving is more important than receiving regardless of how little you have.  Instead, Ma and Emmet both sacrifice something of the other’s, that is actively how they’re putting food on the table, in order to maybe, possibly, have enough money to purchase the frivolous thing.  It’s unspeakably dumb in every version of this scenario because they’re giving up something that allows them to continue to eat in order to get something to feed their soul.  But like, you can’t play the guitar or piano if you’re hungry.

…Is this where Jonathan Larson got the idea for Rent?

With Emmet’s Frogtown Hollow Jubilee Jug Band all set to play Barbecue, and Ma Otter’s costume all sewn up, the pair, ignorant of each other’s plans, head to Waterville to win money in order to have the Best. Christmas. Ever. And also to, y’know, repurchase a washtub and tools so they don’t have to starve to death.

Ma Otter sings the most Carpenters-ass song, which shouldn’t surprise me since Paul Williams contributed to a few of those as well.  Emmet and his buddies are thrown for a loop when someone else decides to butcher BBQ before them, so they quickly pivot to a stinkin’ cute song about brothers.  Pleased with their odds, Emmet and Ma think they have the competition in the bag… That is until The Riverbottom Nightmare Band performs and blows both their songs out of the water.

So the risks paid off!  Emmet and Ma no longer need to replace the things they hocked, they get to make regular money pursuing their real passion of playing music, AND THEY GET FREE MASHED POTATOES FROM RIVERSIDE REST WHICH IS THE REAL DREAM.  To thank Pa Otter for his guidance from beyond the grave, the newly formed group reprise his favorite song after their first shift.

“When the River Meets the Sea” nestles nicely among the peaceful afterlife songs that are comforting and simultaneously make me cry like a little baby.  It’s perfect, no notes.  The End.

While the TV special struggled to find a distributor or an audience when it was first released, it feels like in the last several years it has started to work its way into the public holiday consciousness.  In 2008 the special was adapted for the stage, with a revival as recently as 2023 in Chicago.  It honestly looks equal parts adorable and cursed, but it’s intended for kids, so maybe the furry adjacent-aspect of it doesn’t read as unsettling when you’re 5.

While Emmet Otter wasn’t something I grew up watching, I found myself gravitating toward it this year more than others.  I’m now the age where I’ve started to seriously consider what life will look like without parents, and how their legacy will shape how I move forward without them.  Maybe this happens earlier for people who have children and are forced to reconcile with their upbringing and decide what parts they would like to impart in their own kid’s lives.  But I guess I’ve been more delayed on that front since I’m only now sizing up how my parents would want to be remembered and what aspects of their part in raising me would they be proud of seeing me continue.

Pa Otter, while not the most financially secure, seemed like a fun and loving dude.  He built the ice slide in the backyard, created the tradition of the Christmas branch, and encouraged Ma to play her piano.  His family is now struggling to get by, but both Emmet and Ma are so comforted by thought they were following in his footsteps that they didn’t even question their decisions when they worked out poorly.  Injecting his joy back into their lives was so valuable it made the fallout inconsequential in comparison.  Not to mention pursuing their passions lead them to a much more fulfilling and secure life.  Because what is the purpose of life without happiness? 

We can only survive on crumbs for so long.  Maybe the dumb thing is the right thing in the end.

The post Emmet Otter’s Jug-Band Christmas (1977) appeared first on Welcome to Oaty McLoafy!.

Family Video rents most old movies for like .50, but because of the world slowly ending, the one by my house was closed and I was forced to pay $3.99 to stream Labyrinth.  It was about $3.49 too much.  I don’t understand how Jim Henson, George Lucas, Terry Jones, and David Bowie could get together and make such a mediocre film.  Like, honestly, the entire time I just wanted the movie to end so I could watch Flight of the Conchords and laugh at some truly ridiculous Bowie-related content.

A self-involved teenage girl named Sarah is politely asked by her stepmother to babysit her little brother.  Sarah decides to take her angst out on a literal infant by offering him up to a goblin king, freeing up her time so she can wander the streets reciting dialogue from a play to herself, which is super important, guys, there’s no way she could have done that in her own home.

Jareth, the Goblin King, who is also David Bowie, is in love (!?) with 15-year-old Jennifer Connelly, and shows up to steal her little brother, leaving a glitter trail behind him.  Sarah decides suddenly she wants the burden of being an older sister, and follows him to the Goblin City to get the kid back.

She is immediately greeted by Hoggle, a puppet that simultaneously looks like the animatronic tree trolls in Maelstrom and Mel Brooks dressed up like Yogurt.

He tells her the only way she can get to the castle of the Goblin King is to first make her way through the Labyrinth.  In an effort to save money on sets, they have Sarah run the same glitter herpes infected stretch of it for 5 minutes, complaining it goes on forever, without having the thought she could use any of the trees to climb up the wall and jump over it.  An actual adorable worm takes pity on her and tells her to walk through the wall, because he’s sick of seeing her pace back and forth.  Sarah learns that everything in the Labyrinth is not as it seems.

David Bowie, observing how slowly Sarah is making her way through the maze, does a preemptive “I’ve stolen a child to raise for nefarious purposes and there’s no way she’s going to get him back” celebration dance.

I discovered Sting was Jim Henson’s first pick for Jareth (presumably because he saw how excellent his acting was in Dune) but his son talked him into approaching David Bowie for the project.  I would give anything to know what that pitch conversation was like.

“Now, picture this… you are a goblin king, and you’re going to steal a kid.  The great majority of the movie you’ll either be trying to entertain an infant, lust after a teenager, or dance with creepy fucking puppets.  Also, we need you to write all the songs.  We cool?”

I should probably take this moment to mention that I’m not a huge David Bowie fan (I know, I know… it’s terrible), so it’s hard for me to consider how appealing these songs are to those who like his type of synth-pop.  They fit the mood of the film, but I don’t feel like they add anything particularly special to the narrative.  Labyrinth easily could have not been a musical and nothing would have been lost.

Anyway, Sarah continues to truck her way though the maze and runs into Alice in Wonderland-style talking playing cards that ask her to pick a door, and then assist her in falling through a rabbit hole.  She is accosted by nightmare-fuel hand faces that ask if she wants to be molested up out of the pit, or down into it.  

She decides to go farther down into hell, where she runs into Hoggle and convinces him to help her get through the maze in exchange for a fancy plastic bracelet.  It’s about around this time where Jareth intervenes to grab some constructive criticism about her experience.

Not very much, David.  Not very much.

Being frustrated with her answer, he sics the cleaners on Sarah and Hoggle, which is a drill driven by two guys on a bicycle.  After avoiding certain death, they are greeted by a series of verbally abusive rock faces, who apologize for just doing their job.

Here’s the thing about this movie – The sets and the puppets are awesome (although super fucking creepy), and they are used for some really great visual gags.  But all the craftsmanship is crushed under the weight of a truly unremarkable, low-stakes story.  I tried to write this summary for over a week, and every time I tried, I got bogged down trying to come up with what the fuck I’m going to say.  The plot is like if Monty Python and the Holy Grail and every Disney movie fairy tale cliché had a puppet baby, and I’m just bored.  Let’s fast forward through the rest of the Labyrinth, shall we?

Hoggle and Sarah run into a large dog-looking thing named Ludo (not Pluto), who is being attacked by a bunch of things that look like the naked mole rat anti-christ from South Park’s Woodland Critter Christmas.  They save him, work their way through another set of doors, listen to a musical number by a group of demonic Crash Bandicoots, and trudge through a bad smelling swamp.  They are then introduced to the only cute thing in the entire movie, a fox-looking puss-in-boots that pulls a Gandalf and a black knight.

Sarah convinces Sir Didymus and his big Hammerlock energy to help them reach the castle, and he joins their group.  She then gets poisoned and trapped in a dream bubble, where she wears a gown that looks like it would melt if exposed to an open flame and lusts after a grown-ass man who yanked her brother out the window like the Lindbergh baby.

She escapes from the dream, reunites with her party, and storms the castle.  They are immediately confronted by the coolest monster ever to be made out of a door, and Hoggle Shinji’s his way into the mecha and takes it down from the inside.

Seriously, this, and the battle that ensues afterward, is peak Jim Henson.  From Ludo opening up the wall to enter the house, to the exploding cannon, to the goblins going down like bowling pins… I was increasingly impressed by the work and care that clearly went into creating these scenes.  If only the rest of the movie were this captivating.

Sarah finally confronts Jareth in the castle, and the big climax of the movie is… David Bowie whining that Sarah is ungrateful that he stole and babysat her brother for a few hours, while she runs through an M.C. Escher painting to grab Toby.  No, seriously.

Sarah jumps out of the rabbit hole and returns back to her house to find Toby in his crib.  She celebrates by throwing a party with all the puppets in her bedroom, while Jareth turns into an owl and buggers off to make some other teenager walk through a maze for 2 hours. Hot.

Now to prepare myself for some 1950s Baltimore camp, because Cry-Baby is next.

The post #92 Labyrinth (1986) appeared first on Welcome to Oaty McLoafy!.

The Muppets Take Manhattan has a tone problem.  And a story problem.  And the songs are pretty lackluster.  And there might have been a handful of jokes I laughed at?  I fell asleep during this movie… twice.  Why is it so high on the list?

The story revolves around the newly college-graduated Muppets, as they move to New York and try to sell their new musical, “Manhattan Melodies”, which has nothing to do with Manhattan, and instead focuses on the impending nuptials of Kermit and Miss Piggy.  They pitch their show for months (even though it is not complete because it is missing something) to all kinds of producers, but eventually run out of money and have to find alternate jobs.  Instead of staying in New York, the script does the dumbest thing ever by splitting up the Muppets, scattering them all across the country to secure jobs high school students would qualify for, even though it has already been established they all have college degrees (maybe this is commentary?  Because in its unbelievability, by today’s standards it felt too real).  Kermit stays behind to continue to search for a producer so he can lure all his friends back to the city with gainful employment.  He travels to the top of the Empire State Building to reminisce on what he lost, but in this scene I was mostly distracted by the fact the camera is pointed on the back of his eyeballs the entire time.  These bouncing white obs were increasingly disorienting to look at because my brain kept trying to fill in some eyelids.

This sad, motivational event happens 30 minutes into the movie, when usually it would be reserved for the end of the second act.  The audience then has to slog through 30 more minutes of the same plot, except with none of the other goofy Muppets to bounce jokes off of.  They are replaced with a boring human waitress named Jenny who has no personality and only exists to make Miss Piggy jealous.  There are some moments of levity, but they’re immediately followed by Kermit and Miss Piggy moping because they miss their friends.

Then, Kermit finally sells the show, and after calling Jenny and Miss Piggy to tell them the good news, is hit by a car and gets amnesia.  Jenny and Miss Piggy can’t find him, so they work without him to get all the other Muppets back to New York and rehearse the show for a premiere in two weeks.  After Kermit is discharged from the hospital, he starts his life over by working in advertising on Madison Ave.  Sidenote: I would have LOVED if Mad Men were a gritty remake of the last 10 minutes of The Muppets Take Manhattan, where instead of murdering someone and stealing their identity so he can leave Korea, Don is hit by a car and falls into advertising on accident.

Hours before the show’s opening, the Muppets find Kermit, but he doesn’t remember any of them.  It’s not until Miss Piggy hits him that his memory comes back, because Miss Piggy’s violence solves all the problems in the Muppet universe.  He realizes the thing that is missing from the musical is more Muppets, and they jump on stage, perform the show, and Miss Piggy and Kermit get married and presumably live happily ever after.

Ultimately, The Muppet Movie and The Muppets Take Manhattan are the same premise – a group of individuals want to pursue their dream of working in show business.  The strength of The Muppet Movie is the emotional core; Kermit travels the country and finds friends that believe in his vision, and together they work their way toward Hollywood to make millions of people happy.  The solidarity is what makes the movie work.  The Muppets Take Manhattan answers the question “What if the movie executive said no?” and the Muppets slummed around for months, bummed out they can’t sell their show.  They break up, and Kermit has to carry the dream on his own.  The core of the movie isn’t hope – it’s loneliness and despair.  The moment things start to look encouraging, Kermit – and I cannot stress this enough – is hit by a car, and ends up in the hospital, leading into the most ridiculous 15-minute subplot that was unneeded so close to the end, if at all.  The Muppets performing their show at the end does not feel like the same emotional payout that The Muppet Movie earns.  It’s because it’s rushed to its conclusion, and Kermit’s absence in its realization makes it feel hollow.

That being said, there are some cute moments, but they’re pretty spaced out:

• Miss Piggy chasing down a guy who stole her purse in the most fierce way.  
• Gonzo becomes a stunt performer in Michigan, and the dude pulling Gonzo on water skis is wearing a chicken suit and riding on the boat with a bunch of chickens.
• When Kermit gets amnesia, he’s unable to control his voice modulation and it sounds robotic and strange.

The “Manhattan Melodies” songs are mediocre, which makes the end fairly lackluster.  With one exception, “I’m Gonna Always Love You”, where the Muppets are imagined as babies.  It comes out of left field, as if they realized they needed to inject some fun in the movie, so they added this one-off number of the Muppets goofing around and looking adorably cute and ripe for merchandising opportunities and spin-offs.

I’m going on record now to express my distaste for Doo-Wop music, and man… this is a great embodiment of it.  But I do acknowledge this is the only scene in the hour and 40 minutes that stands out.  Even then, it doesn’t instill desire enough in me to relive this movie in any capacity.

Next is The Muppet Christmas Carol, which I’m fairly certain I’ve seen before and enjoyed, so it can only go up from here.

The post #72 The Muppets Take Manhattan (1984) appeared first on Welcome to Oaty McLoafy!.

The film starts with a great, true to Muppet form, 4th wall breaking bit where Kermit, Fozzie, and Gonzo are floating across the sky in a hot air balloon watching the opening credits, and complaining how long they are taking.  Gonzo debates falling from the hot air balloon, because it looks like it would be fun, but Kermit reminds him he may only be able to do that once.

The opening musical number, “Hey, a Movie!”, tells the audience exactly what they should expect – The gang are reporters and they are investigating a jewel heist overseas.  The Great Muppet Caper is much closer to a standard Old Hollywood-type musical, with large dance numbers filled with humans on a soundstage, but with the same ridiculous physical gags we expect from the Muppets, such as Gonzo getting hit by a car, Jake falling through an open manhole, and an dynamite-fueled explosion.

Fozzie and Kermit, identical twin reporters (they are mistaken for each other the entire movie, and it surprisingly did not get old), travel to London with their photographer, Gonzo, to interview Lady Holiday, a famous fashion designer whose jewels were ripped off of her in the opening number by her brother.  After enjoying 9th class seating, they are chucked out of the plane mid-flight, and land in a duck pond.  They ask a nearby fellow for the best recommendation for free lodging, and after deciding against a bus terminal, they head toward the Happiness Hotel, which serendipitously is housing all the other Muppets.

They decide to visit Lady Holiday at work and request an interview, and instead Kermit mistakes her new receptionist, Miss Piggy, as the lady herself, and is immediately smitten with her nice eyes and sturdy legs.  Miss Piggy does not correct him after he invites her on a date, and lies about where she lives when Kermit offers to pick her up.  Back at the hotel, Kermit starts to freshen himself up, while Fozzie makes the argument that he needs to accompany them on their date.  Kermit tries to politely explain that Fozzie would be a 3rd wheel, as he needs to make a good impression on Lady Holiday, in this charming get-ready number “Steppin’ Out with a Star”.

I really appreciated how much care they took to emulate the musicals of the 30s and 40s, not only in subject, but in how they were shot and choreographed.  Later on, there is even a synchronized swimming musical number, featuring a real goldfish, an underwater harpist, and a terrifying practical effect where air comes out of Miss Piggy’s nose.  Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem are the only exception to this aesthetic, as they sing a few atmospheric-type songs that are very on-brand for them, but not necessarily in the tone of the Golden Age.

In a 7-minute gag, Miss Piggy gains entry to a boujee house in order to pretend it is hers when Kermit comes calling.  While I was bored for most of this, I did love how it ended with Kermit and Miss Piggy caught in a closet receiving a restaurant recommendation by an unfazed elderly couple (half of which was John Cleese).  Kermit and everyone else who is staying at the Happiness Hotel make their way to this restaurant… which is more like a supper club.  After realizing the food is much more expensive than they can afford, Gonzo hustles the patrons for money while Kermit tries to distract Miss Piggy on the dance floor.  Miss Piggy gets her Marilyn Monroe moment in the restaurant, being surrounded by a gaggle of adoring men in suits and top hats, which is extremely on brand for her.  

We are then formally introduced to the real Lady Holiday’s brother, Nicky Holiday, the dad from Beethoven, who is doing his best Steve Martin impression.  After a power outage, he nabs his sister’s diamond necklace, and later frames her assistant, the newly outed Miss Piggy, for the crime, and she is arrested.  Although Miss Piggy lied about her identity, Kermit knows she did not steal the necklace, and decides to rope his friends into catching Nicky stealing a larger prize, the baseball diamond, from a nearby museum red-handed (but what color were his hands before?).

The gang stakes out the Mallory Gallery and Tom Cruises’ it though the skylight to attack Nicky while he was grabbing the diamond.  Meanwhile, Miss Piggy (sorry, I mean Hamhock), strong arms her way through the metal jail cell bars, hijacks a cement truck, and drives a motorcycle through a stained glass window to karate chop Nicky’s accomplices and save her new friends.  Having been proven innocent of her crimes, Miss Piggy and the gang head back to America, where they are pushed out of a plane 30,000 feet from their destination.

Honestly, I was expecting any subsequent Muppet movie to be underwhelming in comparison to the original, but this was a solid film, in concept, writing, and song.  The reoccurring gags were charming (I lost my shit every time that fucking lightbulb broke); the 4th wall breaking was :chefs kiss:, especially the fight between Kermit and Miss Piggy where he chides her for overacting; and the music was lovingly referential to a time period where musicals were at their height in popularity.

Next is The Muppets Take Manhattan, which I am expecting more Old Hollywood glam. 

The post #87 The Great Muppet Caper (1981) appeared first on Welcome to Oaty McLoafy!.

For watching my fair share of The Muppet Show as a kid, I’ve never had the privilege of watching The Muppet Movie.  Let me tell you straight off – it is a gem.  The first scene shows the Muppets attending a screening of the movie you’re about to watch.  Statler and Waldorf call the movie studio a dump, Professor Honeydew comes at Fozzie with a great burn (Well, then you’ll have to get another apartment, won’t you?), Sam Eagle displays his stoic patriotism (Does this film have socially redeeming value?), Gozno cuddles with a chicken – it’s all there.  When the movie finally starts, we are treated to Kermit singing the iconic “Rainbow Connection”.

The first 5 minutes of this movie are a great indication of what the rest of it holds in store.  It balances slapstick humor, puns, social commentary, 4th wall breaking gags, and emotional beats that catch the viewer off-guard in their earnestness.  I lost my shit laughing one moment, only to tear up in the next.

The story is an approximate retelling of how The Muppets were formed.  After serendipitously running into an agent in his swamp home, Kermit decides to travel to Hollywood and audition for a casting call looking for a talented frog.  On the way, he runs into Fozzie, who Kermit tries to save from some unruly patrons of the El Sleezo Cafe by distracting them with a snazzy dance.  Fozzie pulls the ‘ol “drinks on the house” gag, which sends the mob up to the roof so Kermit and him can sneak out.  They decide to drive Fozzie’s Uncle’s Studebaker (his natural habitat) on a cross country road trip adventure so they can pursue their dreams of making millions of people happy.

We are then treated to the most jaunty song – I was literally bopping to it the minute it started.  Kermit and Fozzie perform their best comedy duo gags, and it is intensely joyful.

But, of course, Kermit and Fozzie’s trip is immediately derailed by the pursuit of Doc Hopper, who wants Kermit to be the mascot for his frog leg restaurant chain.  This is disturbing for a wide variety of reasons, of which Kermit vocalizes in the best line of the movie…

Kermit reiterates to Doc that his request is heinous, but Doc will not take no for an answer.  This leads Fozzie and Kermit to employ unconventional means to try and evade him, including having Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem paint the Studebaker to blend in exactly with a billboard advertising a soda.

They soon after run into, literally, “The Prince of Plumbers” Gonzo and his chicken Camilla, and the 4 of them head to the state fair.  With all those show chickens walking around, Gonzo gets a bit of a wandering eye, which triggers Camilla’s jealousy.  They observe a beauty pageant awards show where Miss Piggy is crowned (of course), and Kermit falls in love with her at first sight.

In order to appease Camilla after his previous digressions, Gonzo buys every balloon in the joint, which sets him aloft, sailing about 7 knots away from the fair.  The gang follows after him in a panic, but Gonzo can only appreciate the view from on high.

After a car chase scene between the newly formed gang and a shotgun-wielding Doc Hopper, Gonzo comes crashing down after a billboard pie hits the pursuing vehicle.  Miss Piggy (who doesn’t know what’s going on) convinces the car to stop somewhere for the night, and she puts the big moves on Kermit, exhibiting all the traits of her extra self.

Right when things are starting to get hot and heavy, Miss Piggy is called by her agent, abandoning Kermit at the table.  He commiserates with Rowlf, only to find out that Doc has kidnapped Miss Piggy and is holding her ransom. 

Much like The Muppet Show itself, this film is packed full of celebrity cameos, including (but not limited to) Lillian from Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, Reuben from Oceans 11, Bob Hope, Richard Pryor, and Steve Martin.  The most entertaining bit may be Mel Brooks’ portrayal of a mad German doctor who is only interested in lobotomizing Kermit for funsies.

After Kermit’s failed rescue attempt, Miss Piggy decides she’s had enough of this damsel in distress nonsense, and kicks the everliving shit out of her captors, with the craziest eyes I’ve seen on a puppet since Meet the Feebles.

After a brief patriotic interlude (presumably to appease Sam), a flat tire forces the gang to pull over and sleep by the side of the road around a campfire.  Without help, Kermit is disheartened that he and his friends will not be able to make the audition in time.  Gonzo, who is a little like a turkey, sings a song that perfectly articulates everyone’s feelings about finding other people who share the same dream, and their quest to live it.

“There’s not a word yet for old friends who’ve just met.
Part heaven, part space, or have I found my place?
You can just visit, but I plan to stay.
I’m going to go back there someday.”

The songs do a great job at illustrating the characters’ personality, and they change genres depending on who is singing it.  Gonzo is weird, but he’s a mushball at heart, which is reflected in the quiet sincerity of the song.

After Kermit’s very important introspective conversation, The Electric Mayhem show up, informing Kermit they were inspired by his journey, too, and they can give everyone a lift to Hollywood.  But not before heading into a ghost town to have one final showdown with Doc Hopper, who has now amassed a gang to take Kermit and his friends out.  Animal eats their new friend Honeydew’s conveniently presented growing potion and scares away Doc Hopper and his group of bandits. 

The Muppets successfully make their Hollywood audition, and the studio head takes one look at Kermit and decides to offer him the “standard rich and famous contract”.  Kermit and his friends immediately start shooting a movie, reveling in the fact they found each other, and now they are doing what they love.

The amount of love put into this movie shows in every aspect.  The story itself is referential to the feelings of Jim Henson and his team, and the end scene where all their puppet creations are singing a revised version of “Rainbow Connection” hit me straight in the feels.  The craft aspects of the movie, too, are just impressive, and there were several scenes I was amazed by:

• Kermit playing a banjo in the swamp
• The wide shot of Kermit riding a bicycle, and the adorable faces he makes
• Kermit and Fozzie dancing at the cafe (2-3 KICK!)
• When The Electric Mayhem play in the church, every shingle, floorboard, window, and plank of wood holding it together moves with the beat of the song.
• Gonzo sailing across the sky like the original Carl Frederickson
• The entire set recreation of the plot of the movie, only for it to be destroyed by a crazy light technician a minute later
• The costumes, of course, are amazing.  Miss Piggy’s constant wardrobe changes, especially in the romance montage, were stellar.  I appreciated they made Doc Hopper look like a discount Colonel Sanders.  Also, I want Gonzo’s hat with the tiny little faucet on it.

I really can’t chat up this movie enough.  This is my peak aesthetic, and I’m glad this project forced me to watch it.  This whole thing might be worth it for the mere fact this movie is now in my rotation.  

I have a feeling it can only go down from here.

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