I begged. I pleaded. And, finally, it happened: they brought back The Muppet Show. For years, I’ve been in torment, the agonies of a certified Muppethead (Muppetian? Muppetaniac? What do we call ourselves?) witnessing endless Disney-led reboots of our felt icons in search of some elusive, modernised form. We had the Muppets as The Office with 2015’s The Muppets. We had the Muppets as YouTubers with Muppets Now. We even had The Muppets as Daisy Jones & The Six with The Muppets Mayhem. They had their moments. They had their charm. But nothing stuck.
That’s because the Muppets were born and bred for the variety show. When first conceived in that brilliant head of Jim Henson’s, they were envisioned as oddball guests for late-night talk shows and commercials, with an educational branch that would eventually become Sesame Street. And, after a brief stint on Saturday Night Live, they debuted as the gang we know and love today in 1976’s The Muppet Show. It was perfection.
The Muppet Show feels like family. It feels like coming home. Or finding a home in the very first place. It’s chaos, plans go awry, and there’s always a withering joke to be made by Statler and Waldorf up in the balcony. But, with Kermit the Frog as beneficent leader, there’s a sense that, ultimately, good will and fairness are here the rule of law.
Put aside the slapstick and cutesiness for a moment, and it’s clear that audiences feel so emotionally tethered to these characters because, for many, they, alongside Sesame Street, were some of the earliest examples they encountered in media of a functional community: safe and united no matter the conflict that might arise, and no matter what Miss Piggy’s ego might wreak.
And this, a one-off revival of The Muppet Show commissioned to celebrate its 50th anniversary, even with its noticeably inflated budget and starrier bill (while there’s the usual guest host, a role filled here by Sabrina Carpenter, there are additional cameos from executive producer Seth Rogen and Maya Rudolph), still captures that rambunctious charm perfectly.
The gags never feel overwritten or too flashy. They’re often silly (Gonzo performs one of his Evel Knievel stunts while reciting Best Supporting Actress Oscar winners), occasionally fly right over children’s heads (Kermit: “We’re still working out a few kinks.” Carpenter: “I love a kink!”), and never try too hard to cash in on current trends (there’s a Bridgerton sketch that’s really just a Pepé the King Prawn showcase, and a musical performance by Rizzo the Rat of a song that’s five years old by now).
Carpenter is a perfect Muppets advocate, in this respect: she’s versatile talent—a singer, actor, and comedian—who always performs to the camera but never acts like she has one over on us. She’s the funny, smart friend who’s always a willing ear for any of our dating troubles (and don’t pretend like you don’t think of Fozzie Bear the same way!). The Muppet Show takes full advantage of her participation: not only in the way her hit “Manchild” sounds even better with a chorus of clucking chickens, but with her bouncy Dolly Parton curls and closet full of feathers and sequins.
The Muppet Show, for now, has no confirmed future. I can’t say what’s going on behind closed Disney doors, but it’s clear the Muppets themselves—or, to break the illusion, lead Muppet performers Bill Barretta, Dave Goelz, Eric Jacobson, Peter Linz, David Rudman and Matt Vogel—are eager for more. As Kermit announces: “We are so excited to be back on the very stage where it all started, and then ended, and then is maybe starting again, depending on how tonight goes.”
Personally, I’m of the opinion Disney are conducting deliberate Muppet sabotage if they don’t order at least a dozen more episodes. Pedro Pascal next, please?
