[yasr_overall_rating]
When the puppet cast of an ’80s children’s TV show begins to get murdered one by one, a disgraced LAPD detective-turned-private eye puppet takes on the case.
Who corrupted Brian Henson? Son of the prominent maestro of celluloid puppets, Jim, Brian used to make cozy, family-friendly fare, such as “The Muppet Christmas Carol” and “Muppet Treasure Island.” With age, the filmmaker/puppeteer seems to have gotten sick of cutesy puppets, if not exactly matured. Or perhaps it was Todd Berger and Dee Austin Robertson’s deliberately obscene take on the Henson-world that sent Brian guffawing hysterically. “What a great idea,” he may have thought, leafing through the script (the pages that weren’t stuck together, that is), “to do a send-up of the very thing that made me who I am today!” Because such a stalwart is behind the camera, “The Happytime Murders” is smarter than one may expect a film about jizzing puppets to be, yet it’s still as juvenile as a horny 15-year-old.
Emulating a film noir isn’t exactly a novel concept; the genre has been parodied to death in the 1980s (see: “The Naked Gun,” “Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid,” “Fatal Instinct,” “Who Framed Roger Rabbit”). Henson, along with his duo of relatively-untested scribblers, valiantly attempt to bring back that off-the-grid cinematic subgenre. Though Henson’s approach may aim for sophistication – allusions to black-and-white mysteries of yore, with damsels in distress, a ton of cigarette smoke and witty banter – its reliance on copious amount of toilet humor – we’re talking urine/excrement, purple pubes, crack and lots and lots of the aforementioned jizz – prevent it from embracing class. Its creaky storyline – a puppet private eye teams up with his ex-partner to solve the murders of a TV show cast – brings nothing new, narrative-wise, to the table. It serves merely as a vehicle for the jokes, which come harder and faster than its stuffed protagonists.
Some of the jokes land. There is a hilarious homage to “Basic Instinct.” Melissa McCarthy shakes off some of the stink of her recent Ben Falcone collaborations (who produces this film and appears in it briefly, of course) and actually delivers her lines with verve and a renewed energy. The puppets must have inspired her. And the puppet-inhabited world the film establishes on a measly $10 million budget is quite impressive. The sheer variety of creatures on display – from a sleazy bird who owns a porn shop to a funky dude with one tiny head on top of a large one – is wildly impressive. This is Henson flexing his muscles.
The disappointment comes from the knowledge that you are just a second away from being gagged by another dildo… gag, or a puerile reference, or both. What grates even worse are the tacked-on films of police brutality, racism and even a dash of the #MeToo movement thrown in for good measure. Those elements jar with the otherwise gleefully immature effort.
Look, I can’t deny I chuckled a few times, mostly reflexively, the kind of laughter you feel bad about later. It’s a knee-jerk reaction, to crack up at an ejaculating puppet, a puppet that looks so much like the ones we grew up on, the ones that hailed from a magical Henson kingdom of our dreams, hopes, and aspirations. If you can’t wait to see those dreams jizzed on by a drooling, cracked-out Fozzie Bear-like muppet, then “The Happytime Murders” will provide the happy ending to your yearning.
In theaters Friday, August 24th
