Saturday, July 31, 2010

12 Random Gaming Crossovers That Will Never Ever Ever Ever Happen (But Would Be Cool If They Did)

Boredom is a very, very, very dangerous thing. Anywho, the gaming industry is definitely a thriving one, but isn’t one that enjoys crossovers as much as it should. I have compiled a list of 12 gaming crossovers that would be amazing if they happened, but chances are they definitely won’t. They are not in any order, and you are more than allowed to suggest crossovers I may have missed. The crossovers range from mixing characters to mixing styles of gaming to mixing video games altogether. I could not come up with anything with Bomberman, but I am sure any gaming franchise would enjoy the benefit from a character that likes blowing stuff up. All right, let’s go!

Crossover #1:
Bounty Hunting in the City
Subject 1: Captain Falcon
Subject 2: Samus Aran


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Genre: Action/Little Espionage
Arguably, both of these characters can be in the same universe. Arguably, they both have the exact same occupation, even though in history we rarely see them in their bounty hunting action. Well, in this crossover we pitch them both in a futuristic city, doing nothing more but go bounty hunting. While Metroid games are usually full of exploration and terrorizing loneliness, throwing Samus in the big city with all of her moves and weapons attached would be freakin’ sweet. Then we have Captain Falcon riding around in his vehicle, using sheer brute strength to find his pray. This would be nice.

Crossover #2:
Star Fox: Return of the Andross
Subject 1: Star Fox team
Subject 2: Star Wars universe

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Genre: Aerial Action
Now, Star Fox will never ever be allowed to mix into the universe of Star Wars. But imagine Fox and his team exploring around the different areas and planets of Star Wars and participating in all their battles. You have the Star Wars planet being viewed from the lovable Fox team. Not many would agree, but I personally would love to see this. Its not like Star Wars is realistic or anything---but watching Slippy needing help in the Battle of Hoth would be priceless.

Crossover #3:
Pokemon Smash Brothers
Subject 1: Pokemon
Subject 2: Smash Brothers


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Genre: Fighting
Now, picture Super Smash Brothers (Melee or Brawl, whichever you prefer). Now, picture it with nothing more except 75 of your favorite Pokemon past and present. Do I have your attention? Now, have them fight in different environments around the Pokemon universe. And, the Master Hand is instead Mewtwo. Admit it, how awesome would that be? This is how Pokemon battling should be like, not the turn-based nonsense.


Crossover #4:
DBZ vs. Marvel/Capcom
Subject 1: Dragonball Z cast
Subject 2: Marvel
Subject 3: Capcom


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Genre: Fighting. Fighting. Fighting.
Deadpool vs. Frieza. Ryu vs. Goku. Hulk vs. Piccolo. Iron Man vs. Vegeta. Spider-Man vs. Krillin. Chun-Li vs. Chi-Chi. Nappa vs. Zangief. Cell vs. Venom. Carnage vs. M. Bison.
There, that is all I need to say.

Crossover #5:
Wario in Jersey
Subject 1: Aqua Teen Hunger Force cast
Subject 2: Wario

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Genre: ?????
Aqua Teen Hunger Force has not been in a decent video game, but they truly have potential. Throw in Wario in the mix, and give them a totally random series of adventures in Jersey. If there is a Nintendo character that can be forgiven for being in an “M” rated game, it would be Wario. Just those 5 interacting with each other while they battle random villains would definitely be an experience worth buying.

Crossover #6:
Marvel/Capcom vs. Disney
Subject 1: Marvel
Subject 2: Capcom
Subject 3: Disney

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Genre: Fighting
While this isn’t as attractive as a showdown against the cast of Dragonball Z, there are indeed some Disney characters that can be in the mix. Try the cast of Kingdom Hearts, the Gargoyles, some of the folks from Tale Spin, Aladdin, Hercules, Hades, and Darkwing Duck? This idea isn’t a total disaster, eh?

Crossover #7:
Metal Gear Splinter
Subject 1: Solid Snake
Subject 2: Sam Fisher

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Genre: Espionage/action
We have the two best stealth figures in the gaming industry teaming up together, bringing their different methods of getting the job done to tackle the same major dilemma. You can choose either/or to beat the game, or better yet, maybe even have them turn on each other. Secretly, we have been clamoring for a Snake/Sam showdown, and this game can deliver it. Let’s just cut out all the cut scenes please.

Crossover #8:
Tony Hawk’s Adventure Island
Subject 1: Tony Hawk Proskater
Subject 2: Super Adventure Island setting

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Genre: Action Sports
If you don’t remember the Adventure Island series, let me jog your memory: they were a series of side-scrolling platform games for the NES and SNES that featured multiple weapons and the ability to ride dinosaurs and skateboards while engaging in a cool island setting. Now, make the setting much bigger, make it 3-D, and add the massive Proskater Underground-style sandbox gameplay system. Wouldn’t it be awesome riding around in a dinosaur and taking out some bad men in a village a few miles down? Wouldn’t it be awesome so skate around the island while trying to find your next destination? Lastly, how cool would it be to do some tricks in caves, mountains, jungles, and beaches? The Tony hawk games waned in popularity because the settings started becoming all too similar. A drastic change is needed. Here is your answer, a Proskater in a massive island.

Crossover #9
Zombies Ate My Halo
Subject 1: Zombies Ate My Neighbors!
Subject 2: Halo

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Genre: Horror Action/Shooter

The whole war-against-aliens thing is becoming quite a bore. Everyone is doing it. For every Halo, you got multiple imitators. Time to change things up a bit. Now, imagine Halo gameplay but instead the setting becoming a world full of every single possible horror movie cliché known to man: spanning from massive babies to small killer clowns, to zombies popping up everywhere, to men wielding chainsaws and axes. You as Master Chief and your army have to fight off all these crazy invasions while saving people mixed up in the mess. With Zombies Ate My Halos, you have absolutely no idea what the next threat is going to be.

Crossover #10:
The Legend of Fable
Subject 1: The Legend of Zelda
Subject 2: Fable

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Genre: Adventure/Action
Fable was supposed to kill off Zelda but it lacked one major element: personality. While Fable is a fun game to play with its impressive diversity, The Legend of Zelda is an incredible series that has superb storytelling, superb gameplay, and always a great musical score. Now, imagine adding the Fable-like gameplay mechanics to the next Zelda story. What if you don’t want to save Zelda? What if you want to become ruler and are willing to take out the good guys and the dark force at the same time? What if you are already married? With the Fable gameplay added, the storyline of Zelda can mold in different directions depending on what you decide to do in your life in the earlier years. That way, this Zelda game can never end the same, no matter how many ways you play it. There are not enough games in the world with multiple-multiple endings (Chrono Trigger anyone?), its time that Zelda changes this.

Crossover #11:
Call of Duty: Blast Corps
Subject 1: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Subject 2: Blast Corps

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Genre: FPS/Blow-em-up
Blast Corps is a pure N64 classic in which all you do is blow stuff up. To make sure that a nuclear missile doesn’t detonate your goal was to create a course by destroying all sorts of obstacles in your path to allow the safe transport of nuclear stuff from Point A to Point B. Now where is that sequel? Now imagine a Modern Warfare Call of Duty in which not only do you have to move from place to place and survive, but you also get to utterly destroy the entire area for which you just passed through? Just picture it, the level starts off as a first-person shooter, and then the second part of the level becomes a third-person blow-em’-up. It is a match made in heaven: go through a rouge city in Russia, then blow it to smithereens.

Crossover #12:
F-Zero Turismo
Subject 1: F-Zero
Subject 2: Gran Turismo

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Genre: Futuristic Racing Sim
We would be doing a gaming first over here. Imagine the speed and intensity of F-Zero with the realistic complications of the Gran Turismo games. Imagine having to run around the city trying to find the right parts to repair your vehicles after each major race. F-Zero has been a very underrated and unappreciated franchise that can rise to incredible quality heights if they add more depth to the gameplay rather than frustrating challenge. Giving each racer a deeper personality as well as giving each vehicle their “personality” per-se would make the next F-Zero the first futuristic racing simulator in gaming history. I’d love to try that.








Another classic crossover in need of being made:
Pokemon with MMORPG anything


Good night! Give me your suggestions now!

Dinner for Schmucks: 3/10



Dinner for Schmucks (2010)
Like a fancy restaurant with all style and no substance, Dinner for Schmucks has all the pieces for awesome potential, but none of them fit

Dinner for Schmucks is a very weak comedy that has trouble getting its footing from the beginning, resulting in a total tumble for the rest of the film. What surprises me the most about this movie is that the talent was most certainly there, but with a very weak script and poor pacing, the movie maintains a disappointing taste throughout the overlong 114 minutes. Paul Rudd is among the funniest out there in terms of deadpan and everyday man humor, while Steve Carell is easily one of the brightest comedy talents in Hollywood. Then we have Jay Roach, who has plenty of comedic experience with the like of Meet the Parents and Austin Powers. But despite the capability and decent resume, they all fail in delivering the laughs.

From the trailers (which were weak too), it looks like the big focus is on the dinner planned by higher-ups in a company that requires that you bring an idiot to dine with the bosses. Instead, Dinner for Schmucks is about an aspiring rising executive (Tim, played by Paul Rudd) and his complications after accidentally meeting the idiotic but unselfish and sweet IRS employee (Barry, played by Steve Carell). Their encounter together triggers a series of events that involves a psycho stalker, a unique artist, several mix-ups, and the potential ending of the relationship between the main character and his girlfriend (Stephanie Szostak). This movie is a remake of a 1998 French black comedy Le dîner de cons, and with some of the humor and subject matter, the French influence was a bit heavy.

The weakest portion of the movie is clearly the writing. The script was full of bad jokes, pointless scenes, predictability, very little payoff, and worst of all prevented the cast from adding the extra ommph needed to make this a truly enjoyable film. Surely there were some funny moments and some funny situations, but overall Rudd, Carell, and Jay Roach did not have much to work with. Even the main dinner itself had minimal time to expand or evolve into something very memorable to the likes of the infamous dinner scenes of Meet the Parents, Goodfellas, or American Beauty. The script was easily the weakest part of the movie, because the material presented just wasn't good at all.

Steve Carell and Paul Rudd are among my favorite actors in Hollywood. Their comedic timing is impeccable, with Anchorman and Role Models being the best examples. However, they had very little to work with. Paul Rudd had to play the backseat to become the middle man, with no chance of being remotely funny. With Steve Carell's character, it's even worse, because he was written so poorly. Clearly, he couldn't improvise much, but what was written down was not funny at all. They consisted of stupid lines, stupider comments, and sometimes plain garbage. The trailer definitely hid all the actual funny lines from Carell, but clearly it was because there isn't much to begin with. Even Zach Galifanakis, who is a rising force in comedy, couldn't deliver anything past a chuckle. This is one of the few cases in which the actors are not to blame; they did the best they could.

Jay Roach isn't exactly a genius, but usually does know how to maintain pace and deliver some fun little surprises here and there. With Dinner for Schmucks, there weren't any fun surprises, and the comic timing was a bit off. The softer, more heartfelt scenes were handled with much better care, especially when Barry is seen working and displaying his hobby. The dinner itself however could have been much better, and this missed opportunity really hampers the overall movie, especially after all the build-up. The film was nearly two hours long, and I can guarantee you that less than 15 minutes was dedicated to the big finale, the gigantic climax. That was supposed to be the big payoff. Compare this to the comedic classic Blazing Saddles, when the final battle becomes insanely elongated, but utterly hilarious in all its insanity and impulsiveness (if you have not seen this movie yet Netflix it immediately). Dinner for Schmucks has the makings of an insane comedy that cannot be predicted—unfortunately, doesn't deliver on the premise and the promise.

Bottom Line: Dinner for Schmucks is a tough movie to fully rip apart and garnish it with a very low rating, because of the comedic talent and obvious effort involved. But, I personally saw a stinkpile of a script totally ruining and obliterating any possible attempt at becoming the big comedy of the summer; becoming this year's Hangover or There's Something About Mary. The acting wasn't too bad, the directing wasn't a disaster, and there weren't a lot of technical annoyances. But the storyline, pacing, dialogue, lack of a heart and lack of structure destroyed the quality of this movie. In order for your comedy to succeed, there must be a bit of heart and allure attached, whether it's subtle or clearly out there. If there is someone to blame, definitely blame it on David Guion and Michael Handelman. You two, please go back to your writing classes please, you clearly did not pass. Rudd and Carell were not as charming or as funny in similar previous roles (Danny in Role Models and Brick in Anchorman respectively), and Jay Roach has definitely seen better days (Austin Powers—the original and maybe the sequel; Meet the Parents). To say you won't laugh at all is exaggerating, but there isn't a standout moment, and there most certainly isn't a reason to join this dinner a second time.

EOW



here is a work in progress from this weeks environment of the week, Street dance party. I will post the final tomorrow.

The Muppets, No. 6 - Muppets from Space (1999)


This is the end of the Muppets – theatrically, at least, for this unread blog is solely concerned with theatrically released franchises. And their final real movie, Muppets from Space, has astoundingly little to do with any other theatrical Muppet movies. It’s surely not a part of the rather aborted literary adaptation experiment the Muppets attempted under Disney with The Muppet Christmas Carol and Muppet Treasure Island. Nor is it a part of the original, Jim Henson-led Muppet films of the 80s. Consider this: Muppets from Space is not about show business, it leaves the fourth wall mercifully unmolested, and it is decidedly not a musical. There’s hardly anything in here to peg it as a Muppet movie, except for the presence of Muppet “characters.” So what is this, then? Well, it’s 1999 now, and what Muppets from Space really seems to be is a precursor to the bland pop kulture kiddie comedies that would follow it.

One look at the film’s director strengthens that impression. Replacing anyone intimately connected with the Jim Henson company (like, say, a Henson), we now have untested helmer Tim Hill. Is it fair to judge a director on what he would go on to do? Sure, why not! For Hill has proven in our days his meager family mediocrity chops with epics like Alvin and the Chipmunks and Garfield: A Tail of Two Kitties (a movie with two separate awful puns I have great difficulty convincing my fingers to type). In Hill’s defense, he is also one of the top creative minds behind “SpongeBob SquarePants,” but that’s hardly enough in light of his theatrically patronizing efforts.

In treating the Muppet menagerie as characters, we have, for the first time ever, a film that is truly about them. I’d say Henson’s earlier Muppet marvels, like The Muppet Movie and The Muppets Take Manhattan, used the Muppets more as a vehicle for Jim to explore entertainment and show business and, ultimately, veiled autobiographical issues. But now, with even Brian Henson out of the picture, there is nothing personal left to be said with the Muppets. They’re simply a vehicle for underwhelming kiddie yuk yuks – the chance for an uninspired journeyman to plop out something for his resume.

So, what sort of drama could be wrung from the desiccated husk of Jim Henson’s personal cast of 1970s icons? Eh, whatever. Seriously, whatever! Gonzo’s a whatever, and this movie purports to answer the never-asked question about just whatever a whatever is. Trust me, it’s not as wildly self-reflexive as it sounds from that phrasing. This is simply the Great Gonzo as the headlined Muppet, undergoing a so-very-familiar tale of bland yearning and “X-Files” pastiches. It’s like giving Dr. Zoidberg an entire episode, only stretched to feature length, and we know how those tend to turn out.

Post-space credits, the movie opens with a tired spoof of Noah’s ark, with F. Murray Abraham as Noah (it’s the role he was born to play, baby). I’m not going to dwell on this stuff, since the movers are coming and I have to write this in a hurry, spelling erereers and all. Of note, though, is that the scene ends with Gonzo delivering a big, unironic “Nooooooooooooooo!”

Gonzo awakes from this dream (resolving the Muppets’ first ever flirtation with blasphemy) in a contemporary house, awakened by the movie’s overeager funk soundtrack. Yeah, of all the things from the ‘70s to remember including… And it seems, now that the Muppets have to carry themselves with personalities and arcs and such, they need some real world existence. Let’s just say they’re a mass of wastrel layabouts, partying drunkenly in their filthy hovel, bringing down property values all around the neighborhood with their PG-rated (I assume, ‘cause only Disney then could get the mythic “G,” and now they were with Columbia) Animal House antics. Ugh, what an ugly sentence that is!

In a response to the dearth of Muppetry goodness in the literary efforts, this opening includes every Muppet I could care to name, and many I still cannot. Here is an attempt at a comprehensive list, written at the same speed as the beasts appear: Rizzo the Rat, Kermit the Frog, Robin the Frog, Miss Piggy, Statler and Waldorf, the Swedish Chef, Dr. Teeth and his pals (and ANIMAL!), Fozzie, penguins from a throwaway joke in Take Manhattan, whatnots, Sweetums, Rowlf, Dr, Bunsen, Beaker, Sam the Eagle, Camilla and the chickens, Lew Zealand, an old man Muppet I do not recognize, and a singing mounted moose head. Also, there is Pepe, a grotesque looking pile of fuzziness that I couldn’t positively identify until 3/4ths through the movie when someone states he is a prawn. Look at him. Does he look like a delicious decapod crustacean to you?


Gonzo has come under a funk having nothing to do with the soundtrack – the funk of Muppet ennui. Ah, the existential plight of a whatever. It seems he longs for a family of his own, wishes triggered by the framed photos of the other Muppets’ families that have now been invented to convince us of this problem. And in a universe where a frog and pig are allowed to marry (Massachusetts, perhaps), just what is keeping Gonzo from finding a love? At least his always-sickening chicken fetish has completely faded from memory now, so they never have to broach that off-putting narrative possibility.

A message spells out in Gonzo’s off-brand alphabet cereal, saying to “Watch the sky,” and asking “R U there.” My God, Gonzo is being haunted by text messagers!

…Or aliens, really. Yeah, the particular venue of pastiche this time is sci-fi, in that vague and under-researched way you’d expect from a kid’s film. The only references you need know (if even) are MiB, ID4, and the non-abbreviated Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Oh, and “The X-Files!” Let us never forget in any genre piece put out in the ‘90s that “The X-Files” existed! Of course I loved that show, once. Anyway, here we have C.O.V.N.E.T., the standard top secret alien investigation government setup conspiracy cabal amalgam whathaveyou – if all movies were of the same universe, there’s gotta be about 200 different secret conspiracy organizations without any knowledge of each other. General Pat Hingle pays a visit to C.O.V.N.E.T.’s fearless leader, Jeffrey Tambor (as K. Edgar Singer). I’m not going to bother learning a new name, so I’m just going to call him Tambor, or occasionally George Sr. when I get confused. And furthering the confusion, he’s basically the same character as in the Hellboy films. And of course, Tambor is our villain and he’s looking for aliens. But you guessed that.

Gonzo scans the skies at night with a telescope he found in his cereal box. Soon, possibly the hallucinogenic result of eating too much expired cereal, Gonzo finds himself flying randomly through outer space, while the soundtrack’s funky funk funkage funks us all out. Two space fish pay Gonzo a visit, rather putting me in the mind of Monty Python’s Meaning of Life. They explain how Gonzo is to contact the aliens, for apparently this doesn’t count – mow a message in the lawn. “Mow it and they will see.” Oh yeah, I guess there’s a little Field of Dreams referencing going on in here too.


The plot sort of meanders a bit, as for once the Muppets have to fill out a feature film without time-stalling musical numbers to fall back on (though funk-based montages, or really the montages in any film, eat up just as much time, ‘cause no one outside of the early ‘30s wants just pure yakkin’ in their films). Ultimately things progress, as the gang sits uselessly around their gross living room watching Andie MacDowell anchor “UFO Mania” on TV – like an even cheaper version of those ‘90s conspiracy shows, like “Hard Copy” and…whatever the conspiracy phenomena ones were.

Gonzo picks up the show’s signals, mistakes them for alien contact, and thus races straight off to the nearby studios where this world-famous program is aired (that’s the sort of convenient development that I’m entirely OK with in kid’s films). Also, it turns out Miss Piggy works as an assistant here at WWHZ TV 9, the chance for her to have a fame-whoring subplot (in favor of the de rigueur romance with frog). Soon enough, Gonzo bum rushes the broadcast, which of course happens to be done live, just like nearly 0% of such shows in real life. Show producer Rod Schneider (aaaaah!) is unhappy with this development, then happy with it, as he realizes Gonzo is an alien. Ah hah, that’s the achingly obvious truth behind Gonzo’s mysterious whateverness! Meanwhile, the wicked, wicked Tambor is now aware of Gonzo’s presence, so evil schemes may hatch.

Soon two MiBs (that’s what I’d call ‘em) are at the studio, where they whatever-nap Gonzo, along with Rizzo the Rat for good measure (because in the ‘90s, Gonzo and Rizzo were the unlikely comic duo that kept on giving). Miss Piggy confronts one MiB (Josh Charles – not much of a cameo), beating him senseless with her Piggy Power. And as if to prove what sort of Tim Hill kiddie drek this movie is, here is the first groin attack in any Muppet film – that casual fallback for fart-happy pabulum merchants. To further clue you in on the strangely off-color comedy of this film, Piggy then later says “Oh oh oh oh, I’ve gotta pee!”…I miss Jim Henson.

Okay, so this movie is told in irritating fits and starts, no single thread taking hold, so it’s up to me to focus on one thing, and then another, and drink my tasty coffee all the while. Piggy returns home to the disheveled Muppet manse, where a throng of hippie-dippy UFO cultist nuts are amassed to worship Gonzo with Close Encounters references. The various A-list Muppets (and Pepe the inexplicable prawn) vow to go and rescue Gonzo, armed with random gadgets given to them by Bunsen in full-on Q mode. Here they are, ogling Miss Piggy’s rippling porcine flesh:


Gonzo (and Rizzo), meanwhile, have been whisked over to C.O.N.V.E.N.T. (or whatever), where Tambor and his inevitable Muppet assistant (Richard the Bear) can proceed to run through all those late ‘90s alien story points –threats of autopsy, mostly. First up, Tambor dons rubber gloves, prompting Rizzo to make another rather off-color reference, because that’s what the Muppets were missing up ‘til now, sodomy and buggery humor. And here is “Hollywood” Hulk Hogan (as himself), called in for the difficult task of hurling Rizzo down a tube. Sure, that’s something they couldn’t have accomplished without an over-egged celebrity wrestler cameo.

Rizzo tumbles into a brief, underdeveloped gangster movie pastiche, which I’d welcome because it means these people have seen Goodfellas. It’s like the Goodfeathers skits from “Animaniacs,” only with rats instead. But here is David Arquette (aaaAAAHHH!), head lab rat technician. For entirely no reason having to do with anything other than the running time, Arquette cackles and hurtles Rizzo through a montage of “humorous” tortures, all done to funkage tunage songage.

Tambor hurls Gonzo into a prison cell, where he (Gonzo) has a spiritual encounter with a sandwich (I had one of those once, but it was a really good restaurant). It’s really the aliens speaking through Gonzo’s grinder. Gonzo arranges a further rendezvous with the extraterrestrials, at Cape Doom…Cape Doom? Ah, yes, a really uninspired, unnecessary Cape Fear reference. Man, The Muppet Movie might have been about movies, but it didn’t stoop to such boring, boring referencing without having some deep meta-narrative reason for it. Oh, and Tambor’s minions have overhead the loquacious sandwich. But you knew that; this story is rather predictable (at the macro-level), despite being an “original” unlike the past few.

The other Muppets arrive at C.O.R.N.E.T.T.O. (or whatever), utilizing their wacky Q-gadgets to sneak in. You know, maybe the writers (including, sadly, the once-great Jerry Juhl) didn’t see Goodfellas, because if they had, surely they’d be able to do more with their Ray Liotta cameo than simply have him get horny for Miss Piggy. (And – ew!) But the next guard cameo (Kathy Griffin – man, this stuff is random) gets pretty much the gender reverse equivalent of that gag, as she falls for…ANIMAL! Actually, first things first: an invisible Animal chases Griffin down the halls, PG-rated rape on his mind (anyone seen Hollow Man here?). It’s only later that Griffin becomes dependent, long after Animal has had his way with her…You know, in Tim Hill’s endless, childish quest for the Almighty Fart, he somehow managed to make even Animal more off-color.

Soon Rizzo and the rats have escaped, Gonzo has escaped, and an ID4 reference has been made. I don’t know why I still recognize that all the way in 2010. All make it out of the C.O.R.N.U.C.O.P.I.A. (or whatever) compound, on their way for the finale at “Cape Doom.”

The funniest moment in the movie comes courtesy of Jeffrey Tambor’s innate comic ability. He wanders down the hall, and says apropos of nothing, “I’m gonna kill somebody.” I swear I laughed for at least a minute straight at this – it’s totally the sort of understated line delivery I’d expect from an exasperated George Senior.

Here we are at Cape Doom, where all of those nutbar nutjobs have assembled to continue their Gonzo worship. I forget precisely why they knew to go here (it has something to do with Miss Piggy being a bad person), but it is totally justified in the movie. And for all the times for Muppets from Space to be totally sincere and humor-free, it’s in presenting this lame spiritualist craze which preceded the surely doom-filled year 2000 (just as we’re only starting to get with those diamond-lickers and 2012, the hip new doomsday). And because they were available that day, here are Katie Holmes and Joshua Jackson lamenting how Dawson isn’t here…A “Dawson’s Creek” reference?! Okay, Muppets from Space, you’ve officially gone beyond the pale here! Oh right, the ‘90s were when the mere act of acknowledging another media property counted as humor.

The grand dramatic finale of Muppets from Space is basically just a lesser replay of the final moments from Close Encounters of the Third Kind – with Muppets. A red, egg-shaped spaceship lands – totally unconvincing, late ‘90s CGI in a low-budgeted kiddie flick. Man, it’s like kicking a paraplegic, criticizing such stuff! Ah, but then the real Mother Egg descends, runs through what might be a pastiche of The Day the Earth Stood Still if I were feeling generous, and opens up. Here on stage is a mass of whatevers, Gonzo’s long-lost-for-millennia family, displaying their timeless funkitude with a celebratory song made of pure funkosity – Kool & the Gang’s “Celebration.” All dance, sing and kill screen time, as we pass straight over a screen cap to discover that –


Tambor is here, with a great big freaking mofo gun! I predicted his return to the second, as I’ve seen the happiness interrupted in such a manner in countless flicks. I could also predict his comeuppance with nearly the same success, as…the gun doesn’t work. The Gonzaliens, wise beings are they, recognize Tambor’s untapped comic potential (they’ve been to the future and seen “Arrested Development,” methinks), for they invite Tambor come with them as an ambassador. Good enough.

From the movie’s premise alone, you could functionally anticipate the final 5 minutes of this opus with a 90% accuracy. That is, Gonzo will be invited to go home with the aliens, he’ll contemplate it whilst bidding his Muppet buddies farewell, then ultimately choose to stay with his friends instead. It’s the ending we would expect from Close Encounters, if Spielberg wasn’t interested in upending the clichés he was just then creating, all in the celebration of arrested male adolescence. But I digress. So the movie ends with Gonzo, surrounded by the crazed Muppet coterie, bidding His Holy Funkiness adieu. The spaceship doors close, Tambor surrounded by felt space aliens. It flies away, and I suspect that Tambor is instantly devoured by the Gonzaliens.

Considering the release date for Muppets from Space, it seems the producers somehow felt it could compete directly against Episode I. I mean, artistically this imagination-deprived kiddie flick is superior, but commercially it was a dud. That (the theatrical flopping) is what surely killed Muppet movies, for it’s clear now they weren’t gonna die for aesthetic reasons. (Oh, let’s also toss in the commercial doddery of 1999’s “Sesame Street”-based Elmo in Grouchland for good measure.)

Of course the Muppets would continue on, for they were never wholly reliant on the cinema for their popularity, with a series of TV movies that rather follow the vein of what we’ve just seen. Consider the more recent It’s a Very Muppet Christmas Movie and The Muppets’ Wizard of Oz, things I have not and will not see, things I am told via the all-knowing Internet are affronts to even the dignity of Muppets from Space. Yeah, after 2005, they wouldn’t even make Muppet movies for television anymore! There’s still the occasional DTV stuff, naturally, but the monsters are pretty much done with now. Which is surely not what Disney wanted (or was it?) when they officially took over nearly all Muppet rights in 2004. Who knows?

We’ve yet to see Disney do anything really concrete with their acquired properties, such as the Muppets or the whole of the Marvel Universe. But give those mouse merchants time, for rumor has it a new Muppet movie is in the works. (Of course it is, since the Muppets were popular in the ‘80s, which is where all of Hollywood’s ideas come from nowadays.) I have little faith, really, in the Muppets’ renewed viability. They’re puppets, for one, and their best stuff (The Muppet Movie) had directly to do with a really specific mixture of attitudes I am sure no corporate behemoth can will into existence again.

This overall franchise has been a strange descent from the very best art-film-as-kid’s-film experimentation I could imagine, all the way to sub- and proto-Dreamworks fartery. It’s sort of a depressing franchise path to take, though at least 95% of all franchises must undergo a similar de-evolution. It just feels that, in the long run, film was not the ideal setting for the Muppets, who worked so well as a felt-based SNL. Oh well, it just shows franchising isn’t the best move for every single property under the sun.

Uh oh, the movers are here!


Related posts:
• No. 1 The Muppet Movie (1979)
• No. 2 The Great Muppet Caper (1981)
• No. 3 The Muppets Take Manhattan (1984)
• No. 4 The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)
• No. 5 Muppet Treasure Island (1996)

Friday, July 30, 2010

The Muppets, No. 5 - Muppet Treasure Island (1996)


1996’s Muppet Treasure Island is surely a part of the second movement of Muppet pictures, which started four years before with The Muppet Christmas Carol. The first trio of Muppet movies, heralded under Jim Henson’s tutelage, was expansive, placing a massive cast of Muppet characters in the real world as if they were not puppets. This next set of theatrical releases, guided by Henson’s son Brian, is inward-looking, with a smaller cast of A-list Muppets on obvious sets, utilizing literary properties for their inspiration. So obviously, Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic “Treasure Island” forms the basis for Muppet Treasure Island, just as Charles Dickens was the springboard for…the other one.

The Muppet Christmas Carol showed the potential drawbacks to this new Muppet approach – fewer Muppets in limited roles, the need to marry the anarchic Muppet tone with the often at-odds tone of another artist’s work. This was perhaps the best example of what the Muppets could do as Raiders of the Public Domain. The lone highlighted human, Michael Caine, gives perhaps the best ever non-Mark Hamill performance entirely alongside hand puppets, so good that I never even realized then how odd it must’ve been for that seasoned thespian. Despite largely the same crew behind the scenes – director Brian Henson, writer Jerry Juhl, the usual assortment of unnamed Muppeteers – Muppet Treasure Island is a fairly sorry variation on the same idea. It goes to show how the little changes can make a big difference.

Once again, this film was produced by the Jim Henson Company and distributed by Disney. However, the Disney hand is far more obviously felt at this point – the Muppet movies were always musical comedies with essentially “animated” characters, but they were always more Looney Tune in style and humor. By 1996, Disney was riding high on an unprecedented series of traditionally animated hits (Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, The Lion King…eh, Pocahontas not so much…), all built around a dependable but increasingly-boring musical theater formula. And Muppet Treasure Island does its damnedest to match that formula as best as the Muppets can – Hell, it even has a Yearning Song!

Considering the psychotic megalomania of Disney around the mid-90s, the Muppets were only one of their attempts to branch out into other realms of children’s entertainment. Consider it: They had cell animation under their belts. There were efforts to corner the stop motion field (The Nightmare Before Christmas), and the upcoming CGI market (Toy Story). The Muppets were their inroad into puppetry. The best of these Disney-distributed projects (anything by Pixar) successfully broke free of the immovable Disney formula; the Muppets here did not. For once, their output wasn’t a rich brew of kid-friendly adult humor; it was just kid-friendly.

Considering the stupid new unwritten rules the Muppets were operating under (zero deaths, lessened anachronistic anarchy, music numbers modeled after Ashman and Menken), we have a strange amalgam of Muppet and Disney, a neither-nor proposition. It feels like the sort of thing that, budget aside, would nowadays find its way to TV or DTV (actually, recent Muppet history bears this out). Anyway, considering these new rules, it’s even a strange idea to use “Treasure Island” as your base, since you kinda have to ignore a lot of the no-longer kid-friendly piratical elements to squeeze it into this lame 90s concept of family entertainment. Why’d they (and Disney in 2002 with Treasure Planet) think this was the book for them?

Don’t get me wrong, “Treasure Island” is a great book, something all non-illiterate boys (that is, not most of the youngest generation I now know) should read at some point growing up. It’s the perfect adventure story, and single-handedly turned pirates into a subgenre. And the plot is eminently recognizable (map to buried treasure – that’s mostly it), so there’s room for Muppets to play. But, come on, hand puppets can do “heartwarming” well enough (see The Muppet Christmas Carol), but swashbuckling action sequences are somewhat less in their comfort zone. And the thing just doesn’t have the sort of melodramatic emotions that benefit a musical.

The opening sequence shows what perhaps could be done by hybridizing Muppets and pirates – Muppirates! A I mass of evil, evil pirates trounces about the titular Treasure Island (not yet so named), burying their ill-got treasure and singing “Shiver My Timbers,” which has just about the most piratical lyrics I’ve ever heard: “Shiver my timbers, shiver my soul/Yo ho ho!” Considering all of the seven or so songs in the film are derived from sea chantey tunage, there’s only so much you can do with this angle, and this one does it best. There are, of course, metric felt-tons of Muppets on hand to sing as well, crabs, gators, monkeys, fleas, totems, skulls, whatever, none of them familiar. There are hardly any A-list Muppets here, odd since they’re not real actors with contracts, and thus just as easy to throw in as the anonymous goat monsters we get. So anyway, this scene boils down to a fun sea chantey, and singing Muppet skulls. Good times.


Here we are at that inn like in Stevenson’s novel, not clearly named here (and I forget what they called it in the book – oh whatever). Drunken pirate scalawag Billy Bones (Billy Connolly, a comedian here not trying to be funny) regales us all with his exposition about the buried treasure at Treasure Island – you know, that’s not so complicated a concept to need so much exposition. Also, Jennifer Saunders is there, as per this film’s scant, scant cameos. Young Jim Hawkins (Kevin Bishop, in his first role, now star of “The Kevin Bishop Show”) is rightly thrilled by this tale of pirates and gold and corpses. Where’s the Muppets?! Ah, here’s some now – Gonzo the Great and Rizzo the Rat (as “themselves”), now officially a comic duo after their unexpected success together in The Muppet Christmas Carol. And here’s the problem with such an adaptation of “Treasure Island”: They have no literary equivalent; they’re just extra characters with no plot function.

They also do not serve the same function as last time, to act as the meta-framing device – a means to up a Muppet movie’s IQ by many dozen points. Sure, the fourth wall gets broken occasionally, but only in the ornamental sense of The Great Muppet Caper and not in the intricate, essential way of The Muppet Movie. ‘Cause, you know, they could be formally inventive, but that’d confuse the kiddies, and Disney don’t want that!

A little wilting comic business later, emphasis on the lame slapstick over the usual sophisticated bad punning, and it’s time for Jim’s Disneyfied Yearning Song™, “Something Better.” This so precisely follows the Disney standard that – Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

Whoa, pirates!...Well, Muppet pirates, hideous “frog” creatures (I guess, since they’re French) that look like so much disgusting felt under the couches at a kindergarten. The new character designs here look diseased. This is the inciting incident, sending Jim (and Gonzo [and Rizzo]) off on a whirlwind adventure of musical numbers and stilted action. Jim gets the map to Treasure Island from Billy (Connolly), who promptly – dies. Rizzo thinks this shouldn’t be here, though it’s clearly in the book, because, you know, people can’t die in kid’s films. I disagree. I think kids are less innocent than the moral guardians would prefer, and if you don’t give ‘em some death in the right way, they’re just gonna go ahead and watch some Eli Roth movies, and that’s much worse. But I digress.

Uh…Jim seeks a ship, so to go get that there treasure what for himself. The next ten minutes sees the introduction of most A-list Muppets to appear, so let’s go over them. There’s Fozzie Bear as Squire Trelawney, Dr. Bunsen Honeydew as Dr. Livesey, Beaker as whomever, Sam the Eagle as Mr. Samuel Arrow, and Kermit the Frog as Captain Abraham Smollett. Also, Sweetums appears for the first time in about 15 years, which probably meant very little at the time. Also also, Statler and Waldorf are the Hispaniola ship’s bow sprites, just because – look, we gotta squeesze certain Muppets in someplace, setting be damned! And not only are these some random and arbitrary character designations (except for Sam the Eagle, which is why this is the only time he’s had a major role), but it begs further questions. Like this: With the Muppets averaging a movie every four years, and with no regularized TV show since the early 80s, just who would appreciate or even recognize the Statler and Waldorf jokes? It’s like putting Disco Stu in Ancient Greece and calling him Discus Stu, only without the regular series context to make that joke “work.” With this continued Treehouse of Horror approach, I can see why the Muppets are not the most tenacious of film franchises.

More specifically, Kermit’s usage in these films grows increasingly gutless in each entry. He is slowly getting Mickeyfied, becoming a noble and personality-free company mascot who is no longer allowed to have conflict. To only see this movie, you’d never understand how Kermit could reach the cultural plateau he now enjoys; it took my rediscovering the old Muppet movies to realize this myself.


Now, isn’t there a certain character from “Treasure Island,” a certain greatest fictional pirate of all time, without which Muppet Treasure Island could barely call itself a shallow pastiche of a century-old book? Yeah, we’re gonna need a Long John Silver, that rapscallion who did the one leg and parrot thing before it was cool. As per the new Muppet rules, this’ll be the big guest star of the entry, like Michael Caine last time. It’ll be Tim Curry – you know, Dr. Frank N. Furter, the Lord of Darkness, Pennywise the Dancing Clown. That’s one bizarre-ass resume! And compared to Caine’s soulful and film-carrying performance from last time, Curry just hams things up worse than the yet-to-appear Miss Piggy. It’s one thing to deliver an unfiltered mass of “Arr!”-ing pirate clichés, and it’s another thing to do it well (like those other Disney pirate movies from the ‘00s – you know the ones).

Speaking of those unnamed movies, guess who did the soundtrack for this thing? Hans Zimmer. Wow, it’s almost like a real pirate movie!

The Hispaniola is off on an interminable sea voyage. There’s the usual conflict concerning Silver’s character, who might be a good guy (a father figure to Jim), or a bad guy (scheming potential mutiny). You ought to know this, though, since this story ought to be amongst our culture’s best known – it might even be through pure pop cultural osmosis. The Jim and Silver stuff, the real meat of Stevenson’s tale, plays totally independently of the Muppet-based nuttiness. It’s pure melodrama, and played totally straight even though it’s aimed for the rafters. It’s pretty bad.

The Muppet stuff, which is totally independent of Stevenson, largely concerns Rizzo having organized an anachronistic cruise for his drunken rat buddies, a “Caribbean Pi‘rat’e Tour.” If that pun made you cringe, well, it’s about the best joke in this thing. Oh Jerry Juhl, you were once so good at telling bad jokes! And there are songs, naturally, the best way to fill out the streamlined narrative and sketchy humor to feature length. “Sailing for Adventure” is, well, it’s exactly what you’d expect from that title. At some point in here, Dr. Teeth’s Increasingly Anachronistic Mayhem makes a token appearance, to little or no effect. Animal, the greatest and most glorious of all Muppets, gets only one line: “POLITICS!” Actually, that’s the funniest joke in the movie!

The movie drags along, and it seems we’re rather in the doldrums. This is appropriate, since the characters themselves are too, just lying around uselessly on the deck awaiting incident. And where do you turn as a filmmaker when put up against such a stultified wall? Why, straight to Crazy Town, that’s where! All the Muppets go mop mad as a vague Raimi cam settles on them, bursting into the “Cabin Fever” dance number, ship somehow transformed into a Copacabana discotheque. This is the sort of imagination-deprived, desperate non sequitur plea for attention one sees in DTV kid vid flicks, and “VeggieTales.” (They’re vegetables!...That’s the joke!) Now, name a musical genre. Go ahead, name any. It appears in this sequence. Statler and Waldorf make occasional appearances to badmouth the movie they’re in, as is their wont. Sadly, in this particular case, they’re right on the ball (for once).

Back on the actual plot front with Silver: His central trio of hench-Muppets is brigged, then de-brigged, then whatever. Now, there’s a central incident in the book, where Silver straight up murders Mr. Arrow, which is rather essential to the story. But, Billy Connolly aside, we cannot have deaths in this exceptionally infantile version of a young adult story, so…Silver rids the ship of Arrow (Sam the Eagle, remember) by tricking him to row out in a lifeboat. Actually, I can’t wholly badmouth something Bruce Lee did in Enter the Dragon. Still, this is a pretty awkward way to avoid a death that would otherwise surely be in here. Why’d they adapt this novel?! Couldn’t we have had the thirty-thousandth unnecessary adaptation of “Alice in Wonderland” instead?

Doop-de-doo! We finally make it to Treasure Island. This movie is wildly over-plotted (for a Muppet movie), but it all boils down to this: The entire crew turns out to be pirates, intent upon enacting mutiny in order to get their hands on the same treasure they were going to get their hands on anyway. Half of these (Muppet) pirates go with Silver and a captive Jim to the island, while the other stay on the ship to tie up the various A-list Muppets the movie no longer has any use for (Fozzie, Bunsen, Beaker). Kermit, Gonzo and Rizzo, meanwhile, have independently headed inland to rescue Jim from Silver.

The ship goings on barely matter now, but we still have two central plot threads here. The thread that actually conforms to the novel, Silver’s quest for the treasure, follows fairly true to Stevenson’s outline. Only Stevenson never wrote a song titled “Professional Pirate,” which is the sort of thing like “The Pirates That Don’t Do Anything” that struggles to make pirates kid-friendly. ‘Cause, of course, kids love pirates, but adults don’t want ‘em to like pirates qua pirates. Oh, life’s silly little paradoxes.

Meanwhile, Kermit’s trio has quite a non sequitur experience (another one) that has absolutely nothing to do with the novel that is ostensibly being adapted here. It has more to do with an unseemly desire to readapt King Kong with pigs in place of more overtly racist stereotypes. So, in this version, Treasure Island is inhabited by a tribe of cannibalistic pigs, who have frog-, rat- and whatever-napped Kermit, Rizzo and Gonzo in order to eat their delicious felt bodies. That crazy ceremonial dance from King Kong, the one where they were about to sacrifice Fay Wray, is recreated as “Boom Shakalaka,” which is pretty much just the same thing – with Muppets. And along comes a massive cage containing whatever the pig cannibals’ holy beastie is. With great, dramatic emphasis, the cage is opened to reveal:


Miss Piggy! Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!

Piggy here plays Benjamina Gunn. Er…okay then. There’s a character in “Treasure Island” named Benjamin Gunn, marooned from the original treasure-burying trek. That’s all well and good, but in a film full of arbitrary Muppet casting, this is easily the most arbitrary. You wanna make a movie where you can (eventually) include the beloved Miss Piggy, you adapt a story with a female character. Still, Treasure Planet making Benjamin a robot called B.E.N. is maybe an even stupider indignity visited upon this poor, unsuspecting fictional character.

As in the original story, Silver is unable to find the treasure as per the treasure map, since Benjamin (er, Benjamina) has snatched it away – that is, if I remember correctly a book I last read in the late 80s. To hell with you, Wikipedia! Whatever the case, this leads Silver to a faceoff against Piggy, one where he ultimately learns of the treasure’s true location. The cannibal pigs have to get involved here, because they’re in this movie, but they can’t have any impact, because they’re awkward additions. I’ll bet someone who hadn’t read Stevenson could ID the bizarre mutant limbs on this thing.

But meanwhile, Jim has escaped Silver’s clutches (and crutches), and freed Gonzo and Rizzo (new characters) from the pigs’ clutches (new characters). They aim to get back to the ship out in the cove, which is made over-simple for them since Sam the Eagle suddenly appears in his lifeboat (original character, but long deceased originally). It ought to be that Jim alone swims out to the ship, and has a harrowing encounter against the nastiest of Silver’s underlings aboard the mast. This is perhaps the highpoint of the novel, and I haven’t seen a single film adaptation that matches it. They don’t even try here, since the Muppets are rather allergic to adventuring, so all those pirates on board are simply scared off – they think Sam is a ghost of himself.

Silver, ever the more obvious villain here than usual, ties up Kermit and Piggy by ropes over a seaside cliff. There’s little room in “Treasure Island” for the usual faux-insipid lovey-dovey lampoonery we’re used to getting when the pig and frog are on screen together, but they try their best anyway. See, apropos of nothing in any other adaptation, Kermit has a romantic past with “Benjamina” (that’s a fan-fickish notion that would be truly wrong in a normal version). Thus they dangle helplessly together, singing the bland romantic duet “Love Led Us Here” while Silver’s pirates go for a treasure hunt in a treasure hut. They’re going for “ironic juxtaposition,” only…ah hell, these things hardly ever work! It’s probably just done here because it’d be too boring to watch a pig and frog sing and dangle motionlessly for three whole minutes otherwise.

Commanding the Hispaniola, “Captain” Jim Hawkins steers directly under pig and frog just in time for them to plummet and be caught by the anthropomorphized bow sprites (which surely wouldn’t be as fatal as hitting the ocean about 10 feet further down). Then the ship runs aground on the beach, just as Silver and his comically inept pirate crew emerge with their treasure. Cue a big swashbuckling sword fight climax – with Muppets! Which makes it kind of awkward and not at all swashbuckling. And somehow, despite the setting and the mass of pointy, pointy swords, the potential for death is avoided at all turns, just like how all the gunplay in the old “G.I. Joe” was similarly nonfatal. Amidst all this insane inanity, Kermit engages Silver to a duel. It’s a really awkward physical matchup, like Stallone versus Lithgow in Cliffhanger, meaning the screen cap below is the only moment where Kermit and Tim Curry convincingly appear on screen together. And then Silver loses, because Kermit is no longer allowed to look bad.


The treasure is now in the hands of the rightful robbers, non-pirates, as the Hispaniola sails off for the sunset. In the original novel, Silver escapes from the brigs to flee with part of the treasure, and is sent on his way by Jim, realizing there is some goodness in this man. Ah hah!, but painting Silver as a morally grey character would be too much for a kiddie flick to do, so we can’t give him an open-ended exit like that! Sure, Jim still lets Silver go, as he always does, only in this one Silver’s lifeboat instantly sinks – he’s the bad guy here.

Now it’s off into the sunset. “Here we go again,” Gonzo says for absolutely no reason. Just as randomly, we plummet into the ocean for the first time in this ocean-themed movie, to see a few aquatic Muppets just as the credits play.

Despite my relative issues with it, Muppet Treasure Island is the second highest-grossing Muppet movie, after the unassailable Muppet Movie. That it could only make $30 million in 1996 dollars indicates just how minor these Muppet movies have always been. That they retain any sort of pop cultural cachet has less to do specifically with their films, and more to do with the overall Muppet impact, through television, theme parks, et cetera. They’re just recognizable (like Mickey, Donald and Goofy), even if most people have never seen them in any real narratives (like Mickey, Donald and Goofy). Their inexplicable continued cinematic presence is evidence of a deeply stagnant production company more than anything innately interesting about them as a narrative property.

The Jim Henson Company could try self-contained puppet-based films, such as Dark Crystal and Labyrinth, but they don’t. Perhaps there’s little call for puppet movies in this day and age; Star Wars suggests it was once a valid movie practice, but the dreaded Prequel Trilogy suggests no longer. Danged audiences today are, sadly, not sophisticated enough to accept the reality of something as blatantly unrealistic as the Muppets. They want themselves some photographically realistic thinguses like those hideous robots from Transformers, even if their animation is the furthest it could be from nuanced. Consider the relative critical love for Fantastic Mr. Fox, versus its box office take.

I surely don’t know what kind of movie could be told entirely with puppets. Maybe it’s not a valid question. But there’s gotta be more to the medium than just Muppets…Of course there’s always Team America – there you go!


Related posts:
• No. 1 The Muppet Movie (1979)
• No. 2 The Great Muppet Caper (1981)
• No. 3 The Muppets Take Manhattan (1984)
• No. 4 The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)
• No. 6 Muppets From Space (1999)

Red Hair - Paris Fashion Week

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Bracelets X2 - Paris Fashion Week

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Fashionspiration: O... First Lady

This week has been crazy busy, there has been lots of visitors to see and spend time with, and it has been lovely. So, I apologize for the slow week of blogging and hope to have plenty of delicious travel photos for you soon on the most recent Italian Adventure of mine. In the meantime, why not channel your inner Jackie O, walk a life of luxury in your pearls and pillbox hat, and swoon all those you pass by.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Smile - Rue de Turenne - Paris

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Some pictures I made disappear in limbo
and one day they just pop up. I don't know why
That's the way it is ...

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)

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