Being nice is back. Though the days of humor at someone else’s expense will never entirely fade, a consensus seems to have been reached within the comedy community; for the time being, it’s more fun to be excited than it is to be miserable. The triumphant return of the Muppets to the big screen signals a collective decision among our country’s funny-makers to be silly instead of angry, to laugh with the audience instead of at them.
Like all things, comedy goes through a cycle of phases, each in response to its predecessor. The 90s were characterized by angry “alternative” comedy in response to the flashy excess of the 80s. Comedians like Louis C.K., Marc Maron, Patton Oswalt, Janeane Garofalo, and Dave Attell raged about the state of the nation on stage. The following generation just didn’t have the same anger as the generation before it, and satirized their anger with the overuse of irony. The comedians of the early Aughts turned to less traditional, more absurdist forms of standup. Mitch Hedberg and Demetri Martin spouted clever one-liners (predecessors of the modern tweet?) on stage, propped with guitars, easels, and skateboards. The VH1 classic I Love the… series made sarcasm a national pastime. But comedy, like all things, is cyclical, and the era of irony has come to pass. In a recent episode of the Fox sitcom New Girl, a male lead spoke of a potential flame who was so nonstop ironic that he couldn’t tell when she was being serious. This sentiment taps into a collective exhaustion of irony – its extreme overuse in the past decade has left the public yearning for clear-cut sincerity.
The anger of the 90’s alternative comics has now largely subsided. Infamously angry alt comic Marc Maron has conquered his addictions and overcome a low point in his career through his podcast, WTF! with Marc Maron. The podcast is like comedic therapy, where comedians talk about their lives and the traumas that have shaped who they are. The podcast is also a public forum for Maron to make amends: many of these comedians are people Maron offended during his angry past. The raw honesty in these podcasts is simply astounding. The comedians aren’t afraid to tell Maron where he’s wronged, and Maron isn’t afraid to post the episodes unedited. In a particularly noteworthy episode, comedian Louis C.K. confronts Maron for letting his professional jealousy get in the way of being a good friend. It’s riveting stuff, and while it’s not always funny, it gets to the heart of this new sincerity running through comedy. Comedians seem to be letting go of the brutal anger they had in the 90s, and audiences seem more interested in this resulting emotionally honest work than the more emotionally detached comedy of the past decade.
Maybe there’s so much to be angry with in the world right now that if we really allowed ourselves to be upset over everything we could be upset about, we’d be eternally depressed. When Jon Stewart hosted the Oscars in 2008, he said of the films nominated for Best Picture: “Does this town need a hug?” Maybe the return of the Muppets is Hollywood’s response to that question – we are getting more optimism and happiness in our entertainment because we have to. Because we need it.
The first Muppet film, The Muppet Movie, came out in 1979, a time eerily politically similar to our own. There was a disappointingly ineffectual Democratic president in office, war in the Middle East, and, in a scene right out of 1979, the British embassy in Iran was recently stormed and looted. In another scene out of 1979, Kermit the Frog first sang “Rainbow Connection.” The Muppets came at a time when audiences needed unconditional entertainment and humor, and now they’re back.
It makes a difference that the generation who grew up with the original Muppet films are the ones now creating our entertainment. More importantly, it’s a key player from the Apatow School of Comedy who has rejuvenated the Muppet franchise. The relationship between Jason Segel’s character and the new Muppet Walter in The Muppets clearly descends from the traditional I Love You, Man bromance, providing a good lead-in for audiences who may now be more used to bromances than they are to Muppets. Apatow films like The 40-Year-Old Virgin, Superbad, and Pineapple Express have become a key link in the cyclic nature of comedy, bridging the gap between vulgarity and sincerity. In the same cyclical manner, the Muppets are both the clear predecessors and successors of the Apatow School of Bromantic Comedy. While they may communicate in R-rated terms, Apatowians generally mean well and communicate friendship and acceptance, similar to the Muppet message. The Apatow actors themselves are rather Muppet-like – they’re “everymen,” but strangely shaped, oddly voiced, and overly expressive. The Muppets addresses these Muppetly men in a song called, “Man or Muppet?” – and if Seth Rogen isn’t the human Rowlf, then there are no Muppetly men. In the three films he’s directed, Judd Apatow has embraced the 40-year-old virgin (Scooter), the well-meaning slacker (Rowlf), and the aspiring comedian (Fozzie the Bear). More than that, Apatow films are silly, funny, and never mean-spirited – values integral to the Muppet persona.
In the December 12th issue of The New Yorker, co-writer and star of The Muppets Jason Segel talked about rules he was given by the Henson crew for writing about the Muppets. Chief among them was that “Muppets never lie, at least not to each other.” There is a straightforward trust guaranteed by the Muppets that’s refreshing in today’s atmosphere of disingenuous sarcasm. The Muppets are always genuine. Jim Henson’s right hand man, Frank Oz (the voice of Miss Piggy, Fozzie Bear, and Sam the Eagle, among others) refused to take part in the new addition to the Muppet franchise, voicing concerns that the script didn’t respect the characters. Segel addressed the original Muppeteer’s concerns in the New Yorker article: “There was a worry, I’m sure, that I was doing this with a sense of irony,” he said. “It took longer than I thought for them to realize, ‘Oh, no, this guy is making a love letter.’” This perfectly articulates that sense of rediscovered sincerity in comedy today.
“Everything is great, everything is grand. I’ve got the whole wide word in the palm of my hand,” begins the opening number of The Muppets. The song is entitled, “Life’s a Happy Song,” and it perfectly encapsulates Muppet optimism and enthusiasm. The return of the Muppets has brought comedy full circle. Until comedians can’t help but get angry again, it looks like we’re in a period of sincerity.
Kari Koeppel is a senior in CAS & COM. This piece was originally titled, “The Lovers, The Dreamers, and Me: A Return to Sincerity in Comedy”.
