The Global Op sunk lower into the theater’s plush leather
seat. The owner’s way of atoning for the
subpar sound system, he thought. In front of him, a figure bobbed up and down,
obscuring the faded ads upon the screen. Across the aisle, silent muzzle like
flashes erupted as someone’s tricked out sneakers kicked against the seats. Children.
He was surrounded, and more kept coming in. It was his own damn fault, he’d
known there would be no peace at a PG movie on the day after Thanksgiving, but
he’d come anyways. Some dames you just can’t say no to. Miss Piggy was special
like that. Still, he was nervous, and it wasn’t just the swarming children that
were keeping him on edge. It had been over ten years. He had changed. The world
had changed. And then there was Hollywood. They didn’t know how to leave well
enough alone. He knew the odds weren’t good, but he had to hope. It was the
Muppets after all. Shouldn’t anyone who once convinced the world that a well
worn hat was the only thing standing between a frog and a bear being identical
twins be right at home in this all too absurd world?
Two hours later and he couldn’t help but smile. The name of
the game here was nostalgia, and they had played it well. It didn’t take a
detective like him to see through the plot holes, but sometimes a man knew when
to look the other way. In another world, another movie, it would have mattered that
the writers’ main plot impetus (that the Muppets had broken up) was never
justified or given the slightest reason for being. But, within the confines of
a Muppet movie, he not only allowed it, but welcomed it. For the film moved
fast, really fast, 100 dollars lying on the sidewalk fast. The plot was
secondary, a vehicle to reintroduce the world to some old friends, to give each
of the main players a moment to remind us what all too many had forgotten: the
Muppets were funny. Not gut bustingly funny, not cynical smirking funny, but
apple pie funny. The kind that started as barely a laugh, but it sure as hell didn’t
dissipate. Bite after bite, it built up in you, until you were left sated and
full of all too rare winsome joy.
Yes, he would have preferred more Gonzo, more Pepe, more
Rizzo (Selena Gomez should never have more lines than the rat), but there would
be other movies, other times. Strolling out of the theater with the haunting
Mahna Mahna still in his head, he felt a deep sense of relief. The Muppets were
back, and with that knowledge, he thought, maybe, just maybe this world had a
chance.
