There’s a new Muppet movie. I view it, as I view all post-1990 Muppet activities, as an abomination. I’m sure Jason Segal is a nice guy, and I’m sure he’s well-intentioned, but it won’t be right.
I’m obviously not the only one who think so. This piece over at the Awl (pointed out by my friend Christina over on Facebook) really, really nails it. A few bits:
From 1955 to 1990, Kermit the Frog was voiced and performed by Jim Henson. After that, Steve Whitmire, known for his smart-mouthed Rizzo the Rat, took over. Whitmire’s Kermit sounded a lot like Henson’s, but his voice was a little thinner, and his singing more rhythmic and less melodic.
Let me preface my next statement by saying that I know it will seem ridiculous to the casual reader, inflammatory to a good many fans, and downright specious to the expert of rhetoric, but for me watching Steve Whitmire’s Kermit is akin to watching someone imitate a mythic and longed-for mother — my mother — wearing a my-mother costume in a my-mother dance routine. This person’s heart is in the right place, which only makes it worse. “You should be happy,” the person pleads with me, “Look, Biddy! Your mother is not gone! She is still here.” Now, no one would ever do that. No one in her right mind would think it would work. A child knows his mother’s voice like he knows whether it’s water or air he’s breathing. One chokes you and one gives you life. Strangely, I feel the same about Kermit. Whitmire is an amazing performer — especially as the lovable dog Sprocket on “Fraggle Rock” — but, when he’s on screen as Kermit, I can feel my body reject it on a cellular level.
And on the Disney-fication of the Muppets, and their ultimate choice to continue with a non-Henson Kermit:
What if, in 1990, instead of recasting Kermit — something that had been done to Mickey and Bugs Bunny before him — the Muppets had continued on Kermit-less, as “The Simpsons” did after Phil Hartman died. […] Someone else could lead the gang of weirdoes. If a bigger part was in the cards for Whitmire, how about as Kermit’s long-lost brother? How about another nephew? Jerry Nelson’s assertive Gobo Fraggle led a Muppet cast that functioned perfectly well without major roles for Henson or Frank Oz.
It would’ve made more artistic sense than what happened. Instead of an organic personnel shift, Whitmire became Kermit, which wasn’t only a disservice to that character, but also a real disservice to Whitmire. There was no place for him to take the role. If he strays too far from Henson, embodying Kermit with the parts of his personality that weren’t in Henson, nostalgic fans will be disappointed. He can only attempt the same impression over and over. It’s not the kind of art Henson produced. It’s very un-Muppet.
What it is, though, is very, very Disney — not in the original spirit of Walt, but in the style of a corporation that runs on licensing. This is “art” defined as mass duplication, not wonderment. It is the art of selling Tigger toys to millions of people all over the country who have houses filled with Tigger toys.
It’s not all about the Kermit re-cast, but that’s definitely a key point in the whole analysis. Go read the whole thing; it’s worth it (as are, I’m finding, many pieces the Awl runs).
The only thing I don’t like about such talented writers is that they leave precious little room for my electrifying commentary and amendment.
I love me some Kermit, and yes, it is painful to endure the fake new Kermit because he was more a direct extension of Henson’s inimitable creative personality than a written, transferable character.
Here is where I plug one of Houston’s best kept (and free) secrets: Cinema Bomar. It was at one of their wonderful little 16mm shows where I first saw Henson’s 1965 film short, “Time Piece”.
That “The Dark Crystal” is available on Blu-Ray is proof that God is real.
I must now return to the day room for medication and pudding. I am told that today we get chocolate instead of the usual vanilla.