A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

 

Director: Marielle Heller
Starring: Tom Hanks, Matthew Rhys, Susan Kelechi Watson, Chris Cooper, Maryann Plunkett, Enrico Colantoni, Wendy Makkena, Tammy Blanchard, Noah Harpster, Chirstine Lahti
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: PG

★★½ (out of ★★★★)

Continuing the push-back against more "traditional" biopics, Marielle Heller's well-made but empty A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood is the latest to sneakily attempt to give audiences a glimpse into the soul of its subject by not making a movie about them. You know, because regular biopics are thought to be so flat and predictable. And of course, by not actually being about him, this is supposed to give us an even deeper look into who he is and what he represents, but through someone else. In the case of Fred Rogers, it's one of the many lives he changed. While he would seem to be on paper the ideal person for this kind of approach, the bigger question is why someone would go so far out of their way to actively avoid making a movie about the life of a hero to millions of adults and children around the world?

After passing away in 2003, Roger's legacy has only grown by the day, with justiable praise being showered on Morgan Neville's brilliant, tear-inducing 2018 documentary, Won't You Be My Neighbor? The interest in learning more about this man and what he stood for is undoubtedly there. But it's likely the studio worried a biopic would be a bore if they couldn't dig up any dirt on Fred Rogers, of which there is none. Or at least not nearly enough to make him an exciting protagonist in his own film. So they solved this imaginary problem by making the movie primarily about a mopey journalist and cast the most universally beloved actor as Mr. Rogers to get audiences into the theater. And it has to be one of the safest and laziest casting choices they could have made. But that celebrity worship represents the very anithesis of what Fred Rogers stood for and accomplished with his program, which would be fine if the selection of Hanks even made sense given story they're trying to tell.

The film isn't a complete failure, containing some ingenious sequences, a clever framing device, and a recreation of Mister Roger's Neighborhood that's an awe-inspiring achievement in production design as well as nostalgia. If only all of that was at the service of a story worthy of it. This was a man who touched our lives by doing seemingly small acts that amounted to far bigger than could have been imagined. For a film "about" him, it just feels too slight, unbefitting of the giant imprint he left on the world. While it may be rash to judge this for what it isn't, the importance and magnitude of its subject calls for more, especially when that person doesn't seem to be examined at all. He just deserves so much better.

It's 1998 and Esquire investigative journalist Lloyd Vogel (Matthew Rhys) has earned a well-deserved reputation for writing negative and cynical attack pieces for the magazine until his editor assigns him a 400-word profile on Mr. Rogers (Tom Hanks) for their series on heroes. Lloyd initially recoils at the idea, thinking it beneath him to do a story on a children's entertainer in lieu of the hard-jounalism he's built his name on. Unfortunately, his name isn't worth much anymore since word got out how difficult and miserable he is to be around.

Lloyd's also struggling in his personal life, getting into a fistfight with his drunk, estranged father, Jim (Chris Cooper) while attending his sister's wedding with wife Andrea (Susan Kelechi Watson) and their newborn baby. His inability to forgive his dad for walking out on their dying mother when he was young haunts him to this day, part of that anger rooted in a fear he'll somehow repeat his father's mistakes.

Traveling to the WQED studio in Pittsburgh to interview Rogers and expose him as a fraud, he instead meets his match, a man who radiates empathy and kindness and is much more interested in Lloyd's life story than giving him the scandalous interview he came looking for. After his dodging questions and getting him to open up about his father, the frustrated reporter soon realizes Mr. Rogers' is unlike any anyone he's ever interviewed. And soon their conversations start to open him up in ways he couldn't have expected, forcing him to take a long, hard look at his childhood and the adult it shaped him into becoming.

The events in the film are inspired by journalist Tom Junod's 1998 Esquire article, "Can You Say...Hero?" and it's a great piece that you'd understand would be the go-to source in attempting to cut to the crux of what made Fred Rogers' life and career work so special without having to go the cradle-to-grave biopic route. And no one's suggesting they should have, as the concept of taking a relatively small, but important slice of a daunting subject's life can be a great jumping-off point provided the period or event justifies it. But the event covered here seems more like an afterthought for anyone other than the really insufferable Lloyd Vogel, and since the movie's plot revolves around him in every way, Rogers' is merely an intervening presence.

Rhys' performance is fine, if unengaging, but Lloyd's such a no-energy, downer with whiny stereotypical adult male problems that the scenario comes off as extremely low-stakes knowing how Rogers petitioned congress for public broadcast funding, talked to children about asssassinations and used his show to condemn racism. There were smaller victories as well, but this doesn't feel like one mainly because the lead character's so nondescript, too easily categorized as some guy with daddy issues. As Lloyd's wife, Susan Kelechi Watson is playing a smallish role that has echoes of her fiesty character on This is Us, which is actually a compliment since she gives the best performance in the film. But the plot feels like it could have been a leftover script from that series that never made it to air because it was too lightweight.

While this story doesn't feel like a microcosm of who Rogers was, nearly all the scenes that take place at the studio do, as we see him completely in his element, looking on in awe as Heller expertly depicts his rare gift being comfortable and accessible enough to be himself 24/7. There was no TV persona. Mr. Rogers was Mr. Rogers, on camera and off. Her treatment of the show itself, as well as its backstage elements, does Hanks many favors, as we're so taken by the painstaking recreation of the Mister Rogers' Neighborhood (complete with the living room set, puppets, trolley and the Neighborhood of Make-Believe) it's easy to forget he's not quite right for the part.

The movie is bookended with a dramatization of the show itself, shot in this 80's style videotaped format and incorporating Lloyd into it, most memorably in a trippy fantasy sequence. In fact, the sight of a confused Lloyd, injured face and all, wandering into the actual show provides the film's biggest and most strangely tragic laugh. There's even this amazing mini doc about the printing of magazines that's presented in the show's signature style for those classic educational segments.

Nate Heller's score is understated perfection, with an equally impressive soundtrack featuring music from the likes of Nick Drake and Cat Stevens. It succeeds in getting so many of these key details right, while giving us a rare, behind-the-scenes glimpse into the making of a public television series. An on-set visit during which Rogers makes a disabled boy feel like the most important person in the world with only a few words, and mostly by just listening, contains a certain magic that the rest of the picture could have used. If anything, it whets our appetites for a what a real Fred Rogers biopic could have been.

That aforementioned encounter is probably Hanks' finest moment, at least in terms of projecting how Rogers' always seemed to be looking outward, interested in everyone and everything. But most of the time, it's hard to get past the presence of Hanks playing him, trying to imitate Rogers without truly capturing his essence. There was hardly a minute where I thought it wasn't Tom Hanks trying to talk as slowly and softly as possible, dialing it way down. Rogers had a warmth to him, and while Hanks does as well, his entire demeanor is different enough that it never matches and you sense the actor trying to get there. And I'm not sure he ever does. A less identifiable performer should have been cast so we can discover him just as Lloyd simultaneously discovers Mr. Rogers, coming to realizations about him just as we do. That would have at least put the focus where it belongs.

Part of the problem just may be that we find it unfathomable today that anyone would doubt Rogers or consider him merely a "children's entertainer." Lloyd's take definitely hasn't aged well, so if the goal was to have an cynical, unlikable protagonist living in a time warp, this certainly accomplished that, regardless of the character's personal issues. The sad thing is that they had the most fascinating protagonist they could hope for and relegated him to a supporting player in what should be his own movie, miscasting the role on top of it. On the bright side, it doesn't overstay it's welcome and its 109 minutes feel more like 20, which could be a side effect of simply not having enough here. In a film that should be all about believing, it's disappointing that those involved didn't seem to believe enough in the impact of Mr. Rogers to tell a story truly celebrating what he left us. For now, we'll just have to rewatch the documentary for that.  

11.22.63

Creator: Bridget Carpenter
Starring: James Franco, Chris Cooper, Sarah Gadon, Lucy Fry, George MacKay, Daniel Webber, Cherry Jones, Kevin J. O'Connor, Josh Duhamel, Nick Searcy, Jonny Coyne, Tonya Pinkins, Gil Bellows
Original Airdate: 2016

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

There's always been this inherent problem in crafting any piece of entertainment around the altering an important historical event, especially one as controversial and heavily debated as the Kennedy assassination. For valid reasons it's rarely been attempted in either film or television, and the few times it has resulted in the material being handled with kid gloves, as if the creative forces at the helm were too afraid of tackling the event head-on, "changing" real history within a work of complete fiction. If altering too much brings with it accusations of exploitation and sensationalism, then anything short of that would be considered wimping out. This problem even affected the greatest time travel series, Quantum Leap, when the writers got an unusual case of cold feet when depicting the event in 1992's two-part season opener, "Lee Harvey Oswald."

11.22.63 on Hulu

Since the real conflict about attempting to stop the Kennedy Assassination lies in how far the writers are willing to go, it's only fitting that Hulu's original miniseries, 11.22.63, comes from the mind and pen of Stephen King. The author who's always had a problem with endings. And while he has a notoriously spotty track record with TV adaptations of his own work, it's to his and our benefit that this is a new era where the quality of these miniseries often exceed anything on the big screen, overseen by experienced showrunners that limit the need for King's creative involvement. With producers J.J. Abrams and Bridget Carpenter at the controls, this had as good a shot as any of his material at being a slam dunk adaptation. With the author's ideas usually working best as a jumping off point, it would be fascinating to see where they'd go with this, what they'd change or keep, and how the material could be condensed into 8 hour-long episodes.

With topnotch production design and direction, there's an urgency to the proceedings anchored by a phenomenal lead performance from an actor who initially seems miscast and an even better one from an actress who's career will undoubtedly skyrocket off the back of this. But most unexpectedly, the story transcends the assassination, with the event itself often successfully taking a backseat to the human drama and larger points made about society and the passage of time. It manages to go all in, taking a clear stand on the potential conspiracy and making no bones about the fact that our protagonist is there to physically stop this, regardless of the dangerous obstacles or consequences it would entail.

Jake Epping (James Franco), a recently divorced English teacher from Lisbon, Maine makes a stop into the diner of his good friend, Al Templeton (Chris Cooper), who offers him the opportunity of a lifetime. A chance to travel back to the 1960's via a portal in the restaurant's storage closet. But this won't be a vacation, as Jake's job is to complete a herculean mission Al couldn't pull off himself: Preventing the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. In Vietnam vet Al's view, that murder set off a chain reaction from which the country never recovered, altering for the worse the course of his life and many others he's known. He's not only prepared a detailed file for Jake with background and instructions on how to accomplish this task, but primed him on how to first determine whether there was a conspiracy.

Jake and Al survey the evidence

After a sudden turn of events leads to Jake reluctantly accept Al's challenge and travel through the portal, his trip to the past becomes more complicated when he becomes attached to the past, forming a relationship with Jodie, Texas school librarian, Sadie Dunhill (Sarah Gadon). But with the clock rapidly counting down to November 22, 1963 and the past's unseen forces working against him, he must find a way to neutralize Lee Harvey Oswald (Daniel Webber) and uncover the former Marine sniper's connection to the C.I.A. before The President's motorcade travels through Dealey Plaza in Dallas.

Having only read the first few chapters of King's novel before deciding to return to it after viewing the miniseries, there aren't many side-by-side comparisons I'd feel comfortable making. But after similar openings there is supposedly a point where this version deviates heavily, cherry-picking certain key elements to build its own universe that can fill the running time. As he previously proved in his short story, The Langoliers (itself adapted into a 1995 miniseries) the author is, if nothing else, a brilliantly twisted "idea man" when it comes to time travel. If in that tale, traumatized surviving airline passengers wake to discover the vacant past has moved forward without them, King presents an equally compelling notion here of the past "pushing back," stopping Jake from changing it. In a way, that makes perfect sense since the entire notion of altering the past is built on upsetting the universe.

You could imagine that in the hands of lesser directors and screenwriters than Abrams crew, that this idea of the past striking back (let's call it "subtly posing obstacles") could turn into a disaster, with plot contrivances and supernatural interference galore. There's certainly some of that and the Jake character definitely makes the past's job a lot easier with some ridiculous decision-making, but isn't this the hallmark of most time travel entertainment? Still, even if irresponsibility from the traveler is a perquisite for the genre, Jake is very dense.

Jake Epping arrives in the 1960's

How much of the protagonist's carelessness simply services the needs of the story, is the past's doing, or qualifies as just plain sloppy screenwriting is open for interpretation, but Jake isn't exactly careful when he arrives in 1960, a full three years before the assassination. That arrival time and the fact he's allowed to go back through the portal and reset (or erase) what he's done are really the only rules here, since Jake goes about breaking every other one Al warns him about, his actions constantly threatening to create a "butterfly effect" in the future. He doesn't exactly keep a low profile.

Whether he's buying a flashy period car, dropping his iphone and future news clippings about the shooting, giving impromptu tours of Dealey Plaza or placing sports bets large enough to make Biff Tannen blush, it isn't out of the realm of possibility to consider Kennedy was probably fine before Jake arrived. The first few episodes do in fact recall Back to the Future in how we have a crazed Doc Brown-like character in Al roping Jake into this plan and the initial scenes of our wide-eyed protagonist awed by an idealized 1960's that looks and feels authentically warm and inviting. But this is Stephen King. It won't last.

Boasting some of the more impressive photography, costuming and production for Hulu, it's clear they spared no expense and every bit of it is on the screen. With these kind of projects being shortchanged so many times throughout the author's career, it's nice to see one finally treated with the pedigree it deserves. One of the most impressive moments of the series comes when Jake's walking the hallway as school banners subtly change to indicate a jump forward in time.

Jake and Bill wiretap Lee Harvey Oswald

Preventing this culture-shifting event and managing the investigation accompanying it is really hard work. So much so that at one point Jake basically throws his hands up in the air and gives up, turning his attention to preventing another traumatic event that hits closer to his home. That is until he's forced out of necessity to bring along an assistant of sorts and go back to Dallas to finish what he intended to start. That assistant is high-strung bartender Bill Turcotte (George MacKay) and while that character's role is supposedly expanded from the book, he does accomplish something important creatively.

Without a sidekick, it's likely viewers would be forced to watch Jake plan all this alone, talking to himself as we're punished by long, drawn-out voiceovers reciting endless passages of King's book. At least here he has someone to bounce off of and share the screen with and their interactions provide some of the series' biggest laughs, whether intentional or not. Jake just leaving him above Oswald's apartment to record everything he does for months at a time while he goes to work as schoolteacher is a particular highlight. While it's easy to quibble with where they eventually take the Bill character and his overall purpose, the series wouldn't be nearly as entertaining without him or McKay's loony performance.

The big question of whether James Franco can do anything or just simply chooses to do everything he can should occupy the thoughts of most watching. Could they have picked a more jarringly modern-looking actor to play a character transported to the 1960's? Maybe that was exactly the point, but before long, Franco proves he's capable of this too, throwing himself into everything the role requires. And it gets surprisingly ugly at times since Jake rarely thinks of anyone beyond himself, frequently losing sight of why he's there. It's fun watching Franco continue to grow into the part with each passing episode, and as more is asked of him, he turns in this great old school leading man performance that's bursting with humor and humanity.

Sarah Gadon as Sadie Dunhill

It's easy to see why Franco's character is so distracted since Sarah Gadon is nothing short of a revelation as  small town librarian and accidental witness to history, Sadie. As a living, breathing artifact from a different time, it's perfect casting, but the actress goes beyond nailing easily noticeable 60's details such as accent and manner to adding little details that make her feel like much more than a love interest or plot device. An argument can be made the entire story revolves around her, and while Franco's terrific, it's at least conceivable another actor could have played Jake, albeit differently. Gadon is irreplaceable, and without her, so much of what occurs in the last few episodes wouldn't carry nearly the same resonance.

The rest of the cast is uniformly excellent, right down to Daniel Webber's psychotically unhinged portrayal of Oswald, which straddles an uncomfortable line of moral ambiguity we haven't previously seen in cinematic depictions of the assassin. He seemingly alternates from sad to scary at an instant. In a memorable supporting turn an alcoholic wife beater, Josh Duhamel finds a part he seems born to play, channeling that aura of jock cockiness into a raging 60's bully with greased hair and rolled-up sleeves.

T.R. Knight follows suit as Sadie's husband, delivering a creepy, threatening performance that's not only a far cry from Grey's Anatomy, but feels most at home in the Stephen King universe. And while their characters undeservedly get the short end of the stick in the closing episodes, Nick Searcy and Tonya Pinkins respectively shine in their scenes as the Jodie High School principal and administrator. Despite top billing, a haggard-looking Chris Cooper has similarly brief screen time as Al, present mainly to deliver time travel exposition that informs the rest of the series.

Oswald (Daniel Webber) poses for an infamous photo

As the hours, minutes and seconds close in it only makes sense that the past would push back harder than ever, throwing obstacle it can in Jake's path. The physical manifestation of this resistance comes in the "Yellow Card Man" (Kevin J. O' Connor) who pops up now and again throughout the series to warn our protagonist about the futility of attempting to change the past. Supposedly, the book goes into further detail about him, but despite my worries that this would indicate the supernatural side of King's brain taking over the screenplay, that doesn't happen. It's handled pretty well. After numerous disasters and miscalculations by the bumbling Jake, it's not a spoiler to reveal Oswald does eventually sit at his perch on the sixth floor of southeast corner window of the Book Depository with boxes stacked, armed with his Carcano carbine rifle

Whether he it's Oswald who delivers the fatal shot, whether the fatal shot is even fired, how many shooters there are, and the potential ramifications for history should this event not occur, are all questions the writers had to ask themselves since viewers will undoubtedly be asking them too, before demanding answers. It's a tough spot to be in and one made even tougher by the fact that they're adapting an author who often struggles with satisfying conclusions and had the original ending of this novel thrown out and revised by his own son. Readers will feel strongly attached to how the miniseries should end.

And as far as King endings go, this one's far from a disaster. The screenplay overemphasizes the potential consequences of an alternate outcome that probably played better in book form, but it's still immensely satisfying, at least committing to an finale that goes beyond the nuts and bolts of the history-defining event. The result ranks somewhere between the middle to top tier of King adaptations, certainly leaving in the dust some of the more problematic offerings that have sullied the author's cinematic reputation in years past. There are points that feel rushed and you can almost tell without having read the novel what was shortchanged, but it's kind of amazing just how immersive 11.22.63 still manages to be in light off its inevitable limitations. It's one of the rare King adaptations that doesn't feel entirely compromised, creating an experience you could hardly consider a waste of time.

The Muppets

Director: James Bobin
Starring: Jason Segel, Amy Adams, Chris Cooper, Rashida Jones, Jack Black
Running Time: 103 min.
Rating: PG

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

I knew within the first ten minutes of watching The Muppets that co-writer, star and lifelong Muppet fan Jason Segel nails it, putting to rest any doubts a new movie couldn't capture the true spirit of Jim Henson's original creation. Segel plays Gary and it makes perfect sense he would have grown up with a puppet brother named Walter. Of course they'd still live together as adults. And of course Gary would have a girlfriend named Mary who couldn't be played by anyone other than Amy Adams. And she'd worry that he still shares his bedroom with a puppet. This is the Muppets universe and Segel nails it even before they show up. A genuine joy from start to finish, the film asks whether there's still a place in our cynical world for the Muppets. Have we moved on? While the question is kind of horrifying, it's sadly not without merit considering how long they've been absent.

Attributing any favorable reaction exclusively to nostalgia would be kind of silly though, considering that's exactly what the movie's plot is built on. While kids will probably love this the movie's central concept leaves little doubt the primary audience just may be grown-ups who remember what it's like to be kids. That feeling is brilliantly conveyed through the new character of Walter who gets to tag along with Gary and Mary on vacation to Muppet Studios in Los Angeles. Now run-down and dilapidated, it's discovered the studio is being purchased by greedy oil tycoon Tex Richman (Chris Cooper) who plans to tear it down and drill unless the Muppets can raise 10 million dollars to buy it back. So now Walter, Gary and Mary have to track down Kermit and the gang and convince them to reunite for a telethon.

When we do catch up with Kermit, Fozzie, Gonzo, Animal and Miss Piggy it's relief to find out find out they return with their Henson era Muppet Show personalities intact. After Henson's death the property lost its way in the 90's with Muppets in Space and Muppet Treasure Island failing re-capture that magic, instead shoehorning them into parody. They've really been gone a lot longer than anyone's willing to admit. It was never that the public didn't want them anymore but rather they didn't want many of the misguided latter projects in which they appeared. What was always most endearing about the Muppets was how life-like each seemed, easily recognizable by not only their names, looks and mannerisms, but individual characteristics. As strange as it sounds to say of puppets, they seemed to have personalities that reminded us of ourselves at our best and worst, and that's where much their appeal came from. Those later movies took that away, and once you do that, there really isn't much left. Segel and Stoller bring it back, which becomes clear when we see Kermit again, reacting to news of a potential reunion exactly how Kermit should and would. Always the ringleader of the group and rallying the troops, this is the first time we've ever seen the character in a state of total hopelessness. In an empty, secluded mansion reminiscing of fun times with the gang that seem long gone (poignantly realized in the musical number "Pictures in My Head"), it's Kermit in need of inspiration this time. As for the rest, Fozzie's a failed comic, Animal's in anger management therapy, Gonzo's selling toilets and Miss Piggy is a fashion editor in Paris. It all seems in the spirit of how we remember them. 

It's one thing to be true to the original characters, but it's another for director James Bobin, Segel and co-writer Nicholas Stoller to somehow all these years later be able to recapture the exact tone and humor of the Muppets, which is very distinctive and fairly difficult to duplicate. It's a mistake, if not an outright betrayal, to have them be edgy or cynical, but the humor can't seem too juvenile either, as it's always featured inside jokes aimed at adults. Here the entire plot practically demands it. As was done in the original variety show and movies the fourth wall is broken to let the audience in on the fact that the characters get it. Early on, in response to Kermit's refusal of a reunion, Amy Adams remarks it's going to be a really short one. When it's time for a montage Segel's more than happy to let us know we're getting one. Chris Cooper's sneeering villain verbally brags (and at one point even raps) that he's the sneering villain. It's exactly that self-awareness and sense of fun that most of the post-Henson projects lacked and what made the 80's era projects such a communal viewing experience.

The Muppets being rooted in past provide some of the best in-jokes such as Kermit flipping through his old Rolodex looking for a celebrity guest and Walter being told it isn't 1978 anymore. And I'd say it's about time everyone be re-introduced to the awesomeness that is Starship's "We Built This City," as a pop song long derided as soulless corporate rock is redeemed here as the exact opposite, finding its place as an inspirational Muppets anthem and finally sounding like the nostalgic guilty pleasure it was meant to be all along. Segel and Adams, while ceding much of the spotlight to their puppet co-stars, seem to effortlessly slide right into this world. Not only does it feel very natural seeing them act alongside them (which can't be easy) but they're great together and look like they're having the time of their lives, especially during the many musical numbers. Segel has stated being able to make and act in this is a childhood dream come true for him, but what caught me off guard was just how much the performance reflected that. He's like a giant kid in a candy store and doesn't once hit a false or insincere note. Chris Cooper may own an Oscar but now he can say he played the villain in a Muppet movie. Take a guess which I think is the bigger accomplishment. There are many guest appearances and cameos, with two key roles going to Rashida Jones as a TV exec who thinks the Muppets are yesterdays news and Jack Black playing a version of himself. 

If I have a complaint about the film (and it's admittedly a really small one), it's that I expected bigger stars to cameo from what I read and heard about the production. Whether they weren't available, didn't want to appear or certain scenes were left on the cutting room floor I have no idea, but the filmmakers did the best with what they had, as many were cleverly placed and completely in sync with the Muppet tradition. But what's most in in sync with that tradition are the original songs written and produced by Flight of the Conchords' star Bret McKenzie, that meet, if not surpass, the standard of excellence set by classic Muppet songs like "The Rainbow Connection" (which of course also shows up). The two real standouts and likely Oscar nominees for Best Song are the infectiously catchy "Life's a Happy Song" and "Man or Muppet," the latter featuring a musical number so subversively hilarious it wouldn't seem out of place as an SNL Digital Short.

While we all know the two characters who will ultimately take center stage, and justifiably do, I have a feeling the puppet creation that may be most remembered from this movie is Segel's original one. It's a risky move introducing a new Muppet, but it's even riskier making him, not necessarily Kermit or any of the others, the protagonist of the story. Walter's no Jar Jar Binks. Performed by puppeteer Peter Linz and providing many lump in throat moments, he's a brilliantly realized character that not only stands in for all Muppet fans, but children and adults who must overcome a lack of self-confidence to face their fears. One of the more interesting aspects of Walter is his age, or lack of it. That's not a coincidence. He seems to be teetering between childhood innocence and adulthood, with the resolution of that struggle coming to a head emotionally at the end. It's the sophisticated writing of this character's journey that really takes this film to the next level making it a benchmark in family entertainment that should be enjoyed for years to come. And the finale actually warrants discussion in that it isn't exactly what you'd expect, but in a good way. I think. The final few minutes kind of reverses expectations to a point that it almost becomes confusing. Is it happy? Sad? Both? I don't know and it doesn't matter. What does is that this feels like The Muppets and it's great to have them back.