The Muppets
I was beginning to run the risk of taking the word of Rotten Tomatoes as gospel truth. Time after time, I felt that I was at one with the great RT, that my mind harmonized with the frequency of the Grand High Tomatometer.
Then something happened.
Increasingly, I found myself asking "Huh?" in response to reviews. A new zeitgeist of charitableness seemed to be seeping into that old bastion of snark. Another thing occurred to me as well. A movie with a 98% tomato rating is not 98% good; it is just considered to be more good than bad by 98% of reviewers. I find this highly misleading and plan to sue RT at my earliest possible convenience.
This past Turkey Day weekend, I gathered up my dysfunctional family and, working on the sunny 98%-sure assurances of Rotten Tomatoes, dragged them off to the movies where we took in The Muppets. I thought it was a fail-safe way to keep us all from committing homicide for at least two hours on Sunday afternoon.
Wow, was I wrong.
I'm not saying that I murdered Auntie Mimi and stuck her dismembered body in a dumpster just because I saw a shitty movie. But I sure did want to. After a tortuously protracted string of previews and a superlatively unfunny Toy Story short in the Death by Disney mode, the big event finally began.
The plot in as few words as possible: Jason Segel has a freak homunculus brother who's a muppet and they decide to go on vacation to see the muppet studios in L.A. His girlfriend, poor long-suffering Amy Adams, (who, despite being 37 years old, a mother, and the owner of an impressive resume of big-girl roles is still not allowed to grow up) brings her usual sunshine and passive-aggressive finesse to the screen. Our three heroes arrive in L.A., where they discover the decrepit muppet studios in serious financial trouble, stumble upon sinister plans by the compound's new owner to drill baby drill under the site, introduce themselves to Kermit, come up with a half-cocked plan to save Muppetland, assemble the old gang, have adult relationship problems, sing childish songs, kidnap Jack Black and finally stage a massively dull telethon featuring lots of unnecessary cameos leading to the inevitable and inevitably improbable happy ending, despite the fact that they have only reached 1/10 of their fundraising goal.
Did I mention there are lots of forgettable songs strewn throughout? The movie could never quite figure out if it was trying to be farcical or sincere, and in the midst of all the waffling never succeeded at either one. The numbers weren't big and flamboyant enough to be muppet-worthy, but they were far too self-conscious to be taken seriously. It was during one of the duller ditties that the little monsters behind me started kicking in earnest at the back of my chair. I kept trying to concentrate, but it just wouldn't happen. Now, just a day after seeing this dud, I can't seem to put it back together in my mind at all, and I'm sure this isn't just because I dedicated a good half hour to turning around in my seat and beating down those little feet with my umbrella. You see, I can't even hold this review together. I think at some point this movie was trying to make a statement about the "trashification" of our culture and how only the stupid soulless shit makes it big these days; but the argument was put forth so feebly and unconvincingly that it just didn't fool me, or the other members of my family, or the bruised little bastards crying in the seats behind me, or probably even itself. There were nearly a dozen cameos in the film, in true muppet style, but not a one of them contributed anything of substance. Suddenly Doogie Howser was shown answering a phone and complaining that he should have been hosting. Then he was gone. Actually, come to think of it, that was the only time during those excruciating two hours that I actually remember laughing. Miss Piggy failed to deliver, as did Kermit, Gonzo, Animal, Rolf, Swedish Chef and all the other regulars from whom we've come to expect so much more. The movie was so frenetic and dissolved, never managing to genuinely reintroduce any of those beloved, flawed and furry creatures we love so dearly. And by furry creatures, I am not referring to Jason Segel's wang. In my opinion, anyone who has done a full-frontal dong extravaganza just isn't eligible to do a kiddie flick. Oh, fuck the kids. The truth is it was traumatizing to me. Every time he was on screen, all I could see was a huge talking wiener. A huge talking muppet wiener. The new muppet character wasn't named Walter. He was named Wiener, and he bore a striking resemblance to Jason Segel. In summation, the bad guys weren't bad enough, I didn't give a shit about the good guys, the musical numbers were eminently forgettable, and I swear to god, if you kick me one more fucking time, I will twist your little pigtailed head right off your fucking shoulders!
Don't see this movie. It was more bad than good, and only manages to look slightly passable against the background of the drooling shite cyclone constituting this year's movie selection. The people who made it don't need more money. If you want to see something truly worthwhile and full of characters who act like puppets on a string, go see Martha Marcy May Marlene. If you still have a yen for the Muppets, there's a lot of original stuff up on the Tube.
And in the privacy of your own home, you won't even get a foot up your ass when you watch it!
I was beginning to run the risk of taking the word of Rotten Tomatoes as gospel truth. Time after time, I felt that I was at one with the great RT, that my mind harmonized with the frequency of the Grand High Tomatometer.
Then something happened.
Increasingly, I found myself asking "Huh?" in response to reviews. A new zeitgeist of charitableness seemed to be seeping into that old bastion of snark. Another thing occurred to me as well. A movie with a 98% tomato rating is not 98% good; it is just considered to be more good than bad by 98% of reviewers. I find this highly misleading and plan to sue RT at my earliest possible convenience.
This past Turkey Day weekend, I gathered up my dysfunctional family and, working on the sunny 98%-sure assurances of Rotten Tomatoes, dragged them off to the movies where we took in The Muppets. I thought it was a fail-safe way to keep us all from committing homicide for at least two hours on Sunday afternoon.
Wow, was I wrong.
I'm not saying that I murdered Auntie Mimi and stuck her dismembered body in a dumpster just because I saw a shitty movie. But I sure did want to. After a tortuously protracted string of previews and a superlatively unfunny Toy Story short in the Death by Disney mode, the big event finally began.
The plot in as few words as possible: Jason Segel has a freak homunculus brother who's a muppet and they decide to go on vacation to see the muppet studios in L.A. His girlfriend, poor long-suffering Amy Adams, (who, despite being 37 years old, a mother, and the owner of an impressive resume of big-girl roles is still not allowed to grow up) brings her usual sunshine and passive-aggressive finesse to the screen. Our three heroes arrive in L.A., where they discover the decrepit muppet studios in serious financial trouble, stumble upon sinister plans by the compound's new owner to drill baby drill under the site, introduce themselves to Kermit, come up with a half-cocked plan to save Muppetland, assemble the old gang, have adult relationship problems, sing childish songs, kidnap Jack Black and finally stage a massively dull telethon featuring lots of unnecessary cameos leading to the inevitable and inevitably improbable happy ending, despite the fact that they have only reached 1/10 of their fundraising goal.
Did I mention there are lots of forgettable songs strewn throughout? The movie could never quite figure out if it was trying to be farcical or sincere, and in the midst of all the waffling never succeeded at either one. The numbers weren't big and flamboyant enough to be muppet-worthy, but they were far too self-conscious to be taken seriously. It was during one of the duller ditties that the little monsters behind me started kicking in earnest at the back of my chair. I kept trying to concentrate, but it just wouldn't happen. Now, just a day after seeing this dud, I can't seem to put it back together in my mind at all, and I'm sure this isn't just because I dedicated a good half hour to turning around in my seat and beating down those little feet with my umbrella. You see, I can't even hold this review together. I think at some point this movie was trying to make a statement about the "trashification" of our culture and how only the stupid soulless shit makes it big these days; but the argument was put forth so feebly and unconvincingly that it just didn't fool me, or the other members of my family, or the bruised little bastards crying in the seats behind me, or probably even itself. There were nearly a dozen cameos in the film, in true muppet style, but not a one of them contributed anything of substance. Suddenly Doogie Howser was shown answering a phone and complaining that he should have been hosting. Then he was gone. Actually, come to think of it, that was the only time during those excruciating two hours that I actually remember laughing. Miss Piggy failed to deliver, as did Kermit, Gonzo, Animal, Rolf, Swedish Chef and all the other regulars from whom we've come to expect so much more. The movie was so frenetic and dissolved, never managing to genuinely reintroduce any of those beloved, flawed and furry creatures we love so dearly. And by furry creatures, I am not referring to Jason Segel's wang. In my opinion, anyone who has done a full-frontal dong extravaganza just isn't eligible to do a kiddie flick. Oh, fuck the kids. The truth is it was traumatizing to me. Every time he was on screen, all I could see was a huge talking wiener. A huge talking muppet wiener. The new muppet character wasn't named Walter. He was named Wiener, and he bore a striking resemblance to Jason Segel. In summation, the bad guys weren't bad enough, I didn't give a shit about the good guys, the musical numbers were eminently forgettable, and I swear to god, if you kick me one more fucking time, I will twist your little pigtailed head right off your fucking shoulders!
Don't see this movie. It was more bad than good, and only manages to look slightly passable against the background of the drooling shite cyclone constituting this year's movie selection. The people who made it don't need more money. If you want to see something truly worthwhile and full of characters who act like puppets on a string, go see Martha Marcy May Marlene. If you still have a yen for the Muppets, there's a lot of original stuff up on the Tube.
And in the privacy of your own home, you won't even get a foot up your ass when you watch it!
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