The Muppets (2012)

Did puppeteer Jim Henson know, all those years ago, when he first began to develop his surreal felt vaudeville troupe, just how successful, and how beloved they would become? That they would have fans in every walk of life, and from every corner of the globe? One of those fans is Jason Segel, and like any good fan he was distraught with the Muppets' fall from favour in the early 90s. Unlike most fans however, he has starred in several successful comedies, giving him the chance to put his heroes back on our screens. He also plays the part of Gary, a lifelong Muppets fan who, along with his girlfriend Mary (Amy Adams) and his Muppet obsessed and suspiciously felt like brother Walter, travels to LA to tour The Muppet studios and theatre. They find the studios derelict and about to be sold to evil oil tycoon Tex Richman (Chris Cooper, clearly having the time of his life) who secretly plans to demolish them and drill for oil. After tracking down the now lonely and reclusive Kermit in his mansion, they persuade him to track down and reform the old gang to put on one last show and save the theatre.

Above all else, the reason that the new Muppet film works so well is that it has clearly been made by people who love, know, and most importantly, understand The Muppets and their appeal. They have beautifully retained the anarchic, subversive and self referencing humour that shows little regard for logic, narrative conventions or even the laws of physics. Even the celebrity cameos never feel smug or forced, and the songs from Flight of the Conchords' Bret McKenzie are simply superb.

Just as with the Toy Story films however, the bravest decision has been to give the film a real emotional depth. There's a deep and melancholic sadness to much of the film, as the Muppets are forced to battle against the fact that the world has moved on, and that they are seen as relics of a bygone age. When Kermit roams his mansion, gazing longingly at the portraits of his former friends, it seems incredible just how much sadness and loss is conveyed by a green felt puppet. But one of the greatest triumphs of The Muppets has always been that we never see felt puppets. We see fully rounded characters, from the harried Kermit to the perennially optimistic Fozzie Bear, and every step of their journey seems as real as it would with live actors. When Kermit begins a rendition of the original Muppet Movie's 'Rainbow Connection' and is joined onstage by the rest of the Muppets for the song's finale, it's hard not to be moved (or in my case, not to cry). For this has always been the real brilliance of The Muppets: the certain knowledge that even when everything else is looking grey, a song, a dance and a badly cracked joke will always make the world that little bit better.