[yasr_overall_rating]
A recently divorced father and his kids head to the quaint town of Turkey Hollow to spend Thanksgiving at the farm of his eccentric aunt. The holiday threatens to take a bleak turn when a scheming neighbor frames the aunt for turkey theft, but the fractured family teams up, along with some surprising new friends, to save the day.
Films about Thanksgiving have had a hit-and-miss run, ranging from classics (“Hannah and Her Sisters,” “The Ice Storm,” “Pieces of April”), in which Turkey Day serves as a catalyst to spark relationship turmoil, to utter – ahem – turkeys (“Dutch,” “Son in Law,” and the recent, computer-animated debacle “Free Birds”), which use the holiday as an excuse to assault audiences with slapstick gimmicks and cliches. Just as any American film revolving around a festivity, even the better examples tend to follow a familiar trajectory: families unite, argue and eventually come to realize the true meaning of love and reconciliation.
There aren’t many Thanksgiving films aimed at the young ‘uns, and as such, “Jim Henson’s Turkey Hollow,” a Lifetime film, falls squarely in the middle of the cinematic Turkey lore. It does not by any means redefine the genre, and adults will groan their way through the formulaic dialogue and gag-inducing sentimentality, but kids will enjoy its simplicity and adventurous spirit. As for the the creatures, courtesy of the titular production house – they are a joy to behold for anyone, no matter the age.
“Turkey Hollow” starts with a narration by none other than a hilariously playful Chris “Ludacris” Bridges (an offbeat casting choice for a film aimed at toddlers), introducing us to the town of Turkey Hollow and the Emmerson Family: divorced father Ron (Jay Harrington), snarky teenager Annie (Genevieve Buechner) and the young, gullible Tim (Graham Verchere). They’re on their way to spend Thanksgiving with Aunt Cly (Mary Steenburgen, who seems to pop up in every TV production these days).
A local at a souvenir shop reveals the town’s “tall tale,” the Hideous Howling Hoodoo monster, whose wooden statue graces the central square. “Should you hear that horrible, high pitched moan,” the local warns, “run as fast as you can.” Young Tim is terrified and excited, while his older sister has more of a pragmatic outlook. Ron asks them not to bring up the Hoodoo in front of Aunt Cly, as her husband was allegedly kidnapped by the monster and “nearly eaten alive.”
Aunt Cly, a tree-hugging vegan who rescues turkeys and runs a sustainable farm deep in the woods, without internet or TV (the horror!), isn’t nearly as excited about their arrival as Ron expected, instantly accusing him of feeding his kids too much processed meat. Her home resembles a hallucinogenic greenhouse, crammed with plants and lava lamps. Plot complications arise: turns out, Ron’s ex-wife cleaned him out during the divorce (or, as he stubbornly refers to it, “mutual uncoupling”), leaving him no choice but to dump his kids on Aunt Cly to get some work done.
Little Tim soon discovers his uncle’s secret diary, filled with mysterious names like Burble and Squonk. It eventually leads the kids to an enchanted forest, with a group of “monsters” who eat rocks; one of “Turkey Hollows”’ unexpected highlights involves a slow-motion sequence of rock consumption, scored to Johann Strauss’ “The Blue Danube Waltz”. There’s also the evil Eldridge Sump (Linden Banks), owner of a nearby turkey farm, whose turkeys “have more hormones than a high-school drama club.” Tim accidentally lets a flock of his birds loose, which leads to the Emmersons having to pay off Eldridge ten grand within a certain time period – or else.
Jim Henson’s creatures are a highlight, as was expected. A lot of work and care went into those monsters, and the practical effects are refreshing. Maybe it’s my old-school upbringing, but I’ll take an intricately-designed puppet, with fur characters can actually touch, over a million digitized hairs on Sully, any day. The magic is just more… tangible. In addition to the small group of aforementioned monsters, “Turkey Hollow” boasts pumpkins with faces and dancing trees… and, well, that’s about it. The sparsity with which Henson’s creations are displayed make the budget limitations that much more glaring. The Creature Shop, whose art was so rich and detailed in films like “Labyrinth,” or “The StoryTeller” series, deserved a better comeback than a low-fi Lifetime movie.
The thin, plot-hole-ridden plot barely holds things together. Characters behave robotically and, at times, nonsensically (e.g. the truck chase sequence towards the end, which could have ended much faster – and to better effect – had our protagonists jumped to the side, instead of running down a straight path). Dad keeps calling his daughter Anne “Banana” – which proves as annoying to us as it is to her. (Harrington does get to deliver a surprisingly funny line that involves Liam Neeson.) Steenburgen embraces her zany side, fully committing to her portrait of Aunt Cly. “This room is nothing but bad vibes,” she proclaims casually at one point. “There’s a fine line between providing… and hiding” – another particularly memorable line the Academy Award-winning actress manages to utter with much conviction. The kids are just okay.
Ludacris’ appearances are insane. The rapper-cum-actor hams it up, at one point appearing in ludicrous (yep, had to be done) camouflage, at another sitting behind a set of drums and actually saying “rimshots” with a straight face, and at yet another poised in front of a blatant green screen, reading the film’s script, in a little dash of meta. It’s goofy and weird… and strangely likable. I never thought I’d say this, but this film could have used more Ludacris.
Kirk R. Thatcher’s direction is somewhat perfunctory – one expects more from the helmer of puppet-driven tales like “Muppet Treasure Island.” Again, lest we forget, it’s Lifetime, and the network’s staple balance of cheesy line readings, sappy moments and easily-digestible themes (in this case, overcoming parents’ divorce and, you know, Believing) are all on display. The filmmakers even managed to incorporate an environmental, anti-GMO message within the film, which is both laudable and a little jarring, in what should have been a wholly magical journey into “Henson Land.” And the green screen is just too much, especially in the finale – c’mon, guys, America is a beautiful country, send your crew to Montana for a day, for Squonk’s sakes!
“Jim Henson’s Turkey Hollow” barely passes as family entertainment, mostly due to its nostalgic value, Steenburgen’s stalwart presence, and appeal to youngsters. Perhaps one day there will be another children’s Thanksgiving film to rival “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown,” but for now, the little ones will have to gobble-gobble this up.
“Jim Henson’s Turkey Hollow” premieres November 21st at 8pm ET/PT on Lifetime
