Thursday, July 29, 2010

The Muppets, No. 4 - The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)


It is remarkably sad, even twenty years after the fact, to begin this entry with a consideration of Jim Henson’s death. Henson’s brilliant career and puppet-based company were at their peak when he passed away at the young age of 53 in 1990.

The memorials held for Henson were joyous affairs meant to honor rather than mourn him. At Henson’s own insistence, no black was worn, and all those in attendance animated butterflies overhead. Dixieland music was played, and Big Bird performed a solo. At the finale, the six central Muppet performers appeared onstage, seen for the first time alongside their signature Muppet roles, for a swelling, growing performance of “Just One Person.” LIFE Magazine described the memorial as “an epic and almost unbearably moving event.” Henson’s ashes were scattered in Santa Fe.


I made myself sad.

In light of this, isn’t it appropriate that the inevitable next Muppet movie would be something of a joyous memorial itself? For The Muppet Christmas Carol is the umpteen-hundredth adaptation of Charles Dickens’ seminal “A Christmas Carol,” and so it brings in all of that novel’s debate with mortality, followed by its heartwarming and celebratory finale. There is no obvious moment of Jim Henson navel gazing in the film, which is just as it should be. Rather, simply be contented with an opening title dedicating the film to Jim’s memory, then enjoying the movie on its own merits.

The choice to adapt a beloved and well-known literary classic solves a certain problem that has always dogged the Muppets – What sort of plot could they inhabit? Witness The Great Muppet Caper to see a story that doesn’t quite know how to develop due to Muppet-based diversions. Of course there are new issues to be had with this approach. For the first time ever, the Muppets are not appearing as “themselves,” but as designated roles from the book. The opening credits corroborate this, with the fictional Kermit the Frog “playing” the equally fictional Bob Cratchit, for example. This isn’t necessarily unusual – Mickey’s Christmas Carol found the same role for its titular mouse. Still, for those of you used to Kermit’s cinematic omnipresence, it’s odd to witness a Muppet movie where he has only three or so big scenes.

The central figure of “A Christmas Carol” is and has always been Ebenezer Scrooge, that miserly skinflint bah-humbuggist long overdue for the most exciting Christmas Eve ever outside of Die Hard. In The Muppet Christmas Carol, this all-important role is not covered by some Muppet or another, but by our human guest star – Michael Caine. This is the only name that will get bolded this time, as they’ve now clearly dropped the celebrity cameo thing entirely. Considering how hard it can become to squeeze in uncooperative celebrities time and again, this is probably a wise move – and it now somehow makes the fleeting Muppet sightings cameos in themselves. There are still a few other humans in the cast (though none are famous). Almost all of them are Scrooge’s relatives, and the one that isn’t is Scrooge’s love interest. See, they’ve also avoided that ever-icky human/Muppet pairing issue that plagued poor Charles Grodin. So humans only appear in this movie when their relationship to Scrooge necessitates it; otherwise, this thing is as Muppet-infested as we would wish.

So far, I’ve recounted the ways in which The Muppet Christmas Carol separates itself from its predecessors – recognizable literary plot, major switch up of the human element. Now let’s see how it honors past Muppet tradition. First, and most obviously, it is a musical – they’ve never really dropped this element, though the setting here demands music a little more classical and/or Christmassy in its nature. Of far greater interest, though, it that the fourth wall takes another serious beating for the team, after sitting off on the sidelines for the entirety of The Muppets Take Manhattan. The specific nature of this film’s fourth wall breaking will be seen later, but suffice it to say this is a return to Muppet form, without ever being nearly as head-exploding as the masterful Muppet Movie.

One reason for this glorious resurgence of meta-narrative nuttiness is the return as screenwriter of the Muppets’ greatest unsung asset – Jerry Juhl, humorist and “Muppet Show” writer extraordinaire, last seen lending The Muppet Movie a similar touch. Considering the dropping quality of Muppet writers over the last three entries, it seems a conscious return-to-form to bring Juhl back now, a move on the part of the Jim Henson Company to do their departed founder proud in their first post-death production.

Another sign of this devotion is evident in the picture’s director: Brian Henson. That’s right, Jim’s son, in his directorial debut. If anyone would approach a Muppet project with the proper respect, knowledge and passion, this would be the guy. And say what you will of Brian’s skills (he proves adequate for the role, and may actually be more cinematically gifted than Jim Henson or Frank Oz), I’d far rather have an untested Henson on board than some anonymous studio journeyman. That he seems up to the job is just the icing on the cake.


We descend on an obviously stage-bound, production-designed Olde London of the 19th century, covered in snow and soot – and Muppets. The Great Gonzo (that nebulous blue “whatever” of the Muppet lineup) turns and greets us directly, so – take that, fourth wall, a mere minute or so in! It turns out Gonzo “is” Charles Dickens, here to narrate his own story whilst interacting with it (somewhat). Rizzo the Rat is besides Gonzo, playing “himself” (no other Muppet here does this), immediately bringing into question the fourth wall-breaking Gonzo has employed. Yup, this is a Juhl screenplay! They debate the many layers this movie shall employ – classic literary story, told by felt monsters, narrated to us by the original “author,” himself played by another felt monster, while Rizzo is aware of all these layers. It’s not as vortex-inducing as The Muppet Movie, because it never questions the movieness of it all (merely the bookishness of it), but it certainly presents a nice precedent.

At the behest of Gonzo’s narration, here comes Ebenezer Scrooge himself. A song is sung (“Scrooge”) by various anonymous Muppets I’ve never seen before, outlining Scrooge’s frugal, miserly scroogishess. And here’s the thing about adapting a known work – For as familiar as this story is, there’s still plenty of plot exposition to get across, far more than the Muppets have ever had to deal with before. Much of this is done in song, because a) it’s fun, and b) it satisfies the higher generic needs of a movie musical. Whatever isn’t done in song is done, naturally enough, by the Great Gonzo himself, who really is the premiere Muppet of this entry (it helps that Dave Goelz was always Gonzo’s main man, while the Henson hoard like Kermit are somewhat shunted in the absence of their creator). Now, a lot of Gonzo’s dialogue is directly from the Dickens novel – I cannot say this in certainty, having not bothered to read that book (too busy reading the entire Internet), but this is dialogue no one would have originally written in 1992. And much of it is familiar from so many other “Christmas Carol” adaptations – but with the usual Muppetty jocularity to throw in a new spin. So it goes.

Humbug!

Scrooge oversees his dreary office environment, modern drab fluorescent exchanged for Victorian drab oil lamps. He barks harsh orders at top clerk Bob Cratchit (Kermit the Frog) and his assortment of rat Muppet henchmen. And as far as Scrooges go, Michael Caine’s interpretation is far from the nastiest – the Muppets will not allow true vileness, nor is Caine able to totally hide the good man we all know him to be. This is one Scrooge who convinces far more when he reaches the “good” side of his arc later on. And here is Scrooge’s nephew Fred (Steven Mackintosh, a human actor), present to offer the pro-Christmas sentiments to Scrooge’s negative bah-humbuggery. And in come, as per the novel, two charity collectors. Let’s see, which Muppets shall they be? Oh…let’s make them…Bunsen and Beaker! Sure, why not? “Meep!”

Ultimately, Scrooge quits the dusty confines of his office for the dusty confines of his home. Scrooge gone, Kermit and the assortment of clerical rats perform a rather disposable little tune, “One More Sleep ‘Til Christmas,” hurling themselves about to provide the requisite visual interest. Ah, Christmas movies. Here’s a sort of subgenre I have little real understanding of. Seen during the right season (around Christmastime), they can have a nice, heartwarming glow. Seen at any other time of year (such as now, inexplicably in July), it all just seems arbitrary. Of course Christmas as we know it is arbitrary, a strange evolution of long-forgotten cultural movements – The Dickster’s own “Christmas Carol” is probably largely responsible to the holiday’s current form, really. So…it makes sense to do this sort of stuff in a Dickens adaptation, but it does sort of make this Muppet movie seem conceptually more marginalized than the others. (I could watch The Muppet Movie any day of the year to the same effect.)

Humbug!

Gonzo (with Rizzo) trails Scrooge to his lair, regaling us with tale of Scrooge’s deceased business partners, Jacob and Robert Marley. Heh heh, oblique Rastafarian references! (Indeed, Robert is an invention of the movie – a chance to justify the perpetual Muppet duo of Statler and Waldorf appearance as the Marleys’ ghosts.) And indeed, here are Statler and Waldorf, those perpetually unimpressable movie critics, haunting Scrooge with a singing of “Marley and Marley.” This is one of those expositional songs, telling Scrooge of their current purgatorial enshacklement as a result of their Madoffian misdeeds in life. (You don’t drown orphans without some sort of kick in the ass from karma.) Scrooge himself is to be shown the error of his ways tonight, in the form of three spirits who – Okay, we all ought to know this tale, right? The unique focus here should be on Muppets, so here are some:


(Pardon the poorness of these screen caps – I took ‘em from YouTube.)

“A Christmas Carol” is, lest we forget, full of ghostly goodness. Indeed, parts of it would make for a danged good Halloween movie too. Rizzo, aware of this, questions whether this is too scary for kids. Gonzo assure him (and us) that it builds character, just like other kids’ films such as Pan’s Labyrinth or…Labyrinth.

The clock strikes one, and the first spirit, the Ghost of Christmas Past, descends upon poor Scrooge. Originally, they’d plotted to use three famous Muppets for the three spirits, until they realized a spectral Miss Piggy would somewhat derail the tone of the film – dramatically, Scrooge’s story is totally separate from the joyous Muppet nuttiness at the sidelines. Hence, meet the first of three new Muppets, rather visually distinct from the familiar floor mops we all know and love. This Ghost takes Scrooge up and, in the best special effects a moderately budgeted film from 1992 can muster, takes him (and Gonzo [and Rizzo]) on a wild flight over the forests into Scrooge’s past. Cue much slapstick for the rat – Oh, by the way, Gonzo and Rizzo themselves remains perpetually invisible throughout the entire movie, just as Scrooge himself is in his three ghostly journeys. Not only does this make meta sense, but it actually informs a theme from the original book. Well done, Brian or Juhl or whomever was responsible.

Scrooge bears witness to his childhood, the younger Scrooge himself pooh-poohing Christmas with the best of ‘em (is Scrooge a Jew?). Let us not dwell on this, nor Sam the Eagle’s cameo as Scrooge’s headmaster. Let us move on through the years to Scrooge’s old employer – Fozzie Bear as Foziwig (Feziwig in the original book, a joke so obvious, I suspect it’s where the idea for this movie came from). This is a party at Foziwig’s Rubber Chicken Factory (ha!), headlined by a 19th century version of Dr. Teeth and co. (and ANIMAL!). This party’s the chance to squeeze in all those other Muppets they couldn’t fit in elsewhere, such as Rowlf, and the Swedish Chef, and, like, some anthropomorphized vegetables. This is perhaps the sacrifice you make when squeezing your cast into unrelated roles, like a proto, feature-length “Simpsons” Treehouse of Horror.

Humbug!

Ah, but this is Scrooge’s story! This is when younger Scrooge nearly found love, with a belle named Belle (Meredith Braun, human). They head out together into the snow, in an entirely Muppet free scene, where Belle sings a song lamenting Scrooge’s inability to love – “When Love is Gone.” The current Scrooge, Caine variety, sings unseen behind her – this is a nice sort of musical movie touch, having all to do with transforming Dickens’ story into a musical (Muppets notwithstanding). And the movie’s serious dramatic heart, be it Brian Henson’s or Charles Dickens’, becomes obvious in these moments, with Michael Caine believably expressing woe at what he sees.

A nice, cut-free transition sees Scrooge back in his darkened bedchamber. Shortly after a little more Gonzo narration, the Ghost of Christmas Present Muppet makes his presence known – his massive, ebullient, genial presence. They cannot let this moment pass without a song (this movie is song happy, even for a Muppet production), so the new Ghost warbles “It Feels Like Christmas.” Again, July ain’t the time to be watching this stuff.


The tour of Christmas Present is done rather more economically than the Past – they got a running time to squeeze in under, remember. First is a quick visit to Fred’s Christmas party, which is largely Muppetless, save for a few literally monstrous Muppets collecting dust bunnies on the furniture. More, more importantly, we must go to Bob Cratchit’s house. Here we meet Emily Cratchit (Miss Piggy – about time she shows up!), along with the story’s central heart, Tiny Tim (Robin the Frog, that miniature, cloying Kermit). There are also two lesser Piggys, Betina and Belinda, because I suspect they were characters in the book. With Scrooge peering in through the window like a common Gonzo, Robin expands upon an overplayed sentiment from Dickens’ novel and sings “Bless Us All.” This is the sort of warm, gauze-filtered family moment I’d expect to see on the Hallmark Channel, and – weren’t the Muppets about anarchy at some point? It’d be like stopping a Marx Brothers movie for insipid love songs – wait.

Anyway, you know the gist of this scene. Scrooge feels the warmth of family for the first time ever, saccharine little Tiny Tim (or Robin, as I’m playing fairly loose with my designations here) coughs and wheezes over his crutch, and the Ghost of Christmas Present predicts a short, painful, Victorian-era life for the lad. Scrooge pleas for no more.

Humbug!

Before a church, Scrooge meets the Grim Reaper’s lazy brother-in-law, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. Gonzo and Rizzo are too terrified for this, so they bail on us until the finale. Uttering not a word, the Ghost leads Scrooge through a particularly deadly Christmas day: Robin (er, Tiny Tim) has died, naturally, his passing commemorated by an unused crutch by the fireplace (something almost exactly like Dickens’ words). A certain unidentified miser has also perished, to absolutely no concern of anyone else. The Ghost shows Scrooge to the cemetery, to learn the name of this unloved old man. We know this one – it’s Scrooge himself. (And you know, there’s entirely zero humor in this final act.)


In the movie’s climax, Scrooge turns to the Ghost to plead his case, himself nearly broken. It is a major point in this movie’s favor that it foregoes the special effects extravaganza that could be undertaken here; instead, it peaks with Scrooge’s laments of existentialism. In even a lesser performance from Michael Caine, I am rather wholly sold by this.

It feels somewhat fruitless to over-elaborate upon the plot developments of something like “A Christmas Carol.” We know how this ends. Scrooge awakes, finds it is Christmas day (the standard exchange takes place with Bean Bunny, with no variation on the classic dialogue), and goes about town in his pajamas spreading goodwill and cheer and turkey to all. By the particular stylistic quirks of Muppet movies, this is a musical number, “Thankful Heart,” a cast-wide show-stopper utilizing the largest sets and the most Muppets. How many ways are there to say the final 10 minutes simply aim for “heartwarming?” Well, it does. Gonzo is back, as he promised, narrating Dickens’ final verbiage word-for-word. (“And Scrooge was better than his word…”) The movie actually ends in Kermit’s (er, Cratchit’s) home, with a second song sending us off: “The Love We’ve Found.” Here’s the final image:


Humbug!

The Muppet Christmas Carol was distributed by the Walt Disney Studio (or whatever exactly they’re called), naturally enough right around Christmastime. It was not hugely successful, as somehow no Muppet movie ever has been, but it did…well enough. Of course, Disney intentionally undersold this movie so as to not take business away from their own Aladdin – God forbid studios ever tire of their petty schvanshtucker-measuring contests. At least the movie was still entirely produced by the Jim Henson Company – Disney wouldn’t go and buy them out until 2004, long after the artistic vitality had been sapped from the studio (eh, either one).

Despite its merely moderate triumphs, The Muppet Christmas Carol has aged into…eh, a sort of moderate modern Christmas classic…I think. The world surely doesn’t need another “Christmas Carol” adaptation, nor less another released by Disney (eh, Zemeckis?), so The Muppet Christmas Carol only satisfies a new need if you really need your “Christmas Carol” goodness spiced up with Muppets. It’s one of those remarkably niche options, like a tangerine pizza or something, which might take “ok” to those who really want it (I’ve never eaten a tangerine pizza), but’s just sorta “weird” otherwise. It ain’t bad (the Muppets, anyway, as again I cannot comment on the stupid pizza metaphor), but it’s not really called for. But still, if the Muppets are going to somehow continue sputtering on as a halfhearted franchise of sorts, at least the literary pedigree suggests new routes they could go in.


Related posts:
• No. 1 The Muppet Movie (1979)
• No. 2 The Great Muppet Caper (1981)
• No. 4 The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)
• No. 5 Muppet Treasure Island (1996)
• No. 6 Muppets From Space (1999)

No comments:

Post a Comment

LinkWithin