Muppet Treasure Island 1996

[7.7/10] You could pluck Michael Caine out of The Muppet Christmas Carol, pop him into a BBC adaptation of the Charles Dickens classic, and not have to change a thing. One of the remarkable elements of the first Brian Henson-directed feature is how Caine holds the center of the piece in a way that acknowledges the lunacy all around him, but also delivers the pathos and gravity of the story’s themes.

One of the most remarkable elements of Muppet Treasure Island is that Tim Curry gives almost an opposite performance -- a delightfully hammy, scene-chewing, eye-bulging masterclass in extraversion -- and it suits the material just as well. I don’t want to say that it’s the type of delivery and presence that could only work in a Muppet movie. In truth both he and Johnny Depp are pulling from the same Robert Louis Stevenson-inspired archetypes, but there’s more than a few shades of Curry’s performance here in Jack Sparrow.

And yet, it’s the type of performance that soars when surrounded by Jim Henson and company’s creations. There may be no actor better suited to deliver an outsized persona that can meet or exceed the expressive absurdity of the Muppets than Curry. He is a total star here, never missing a beat among his felt-forged costars, and oftentimes even exceeding them in silliness and joie de vivre, no small feat.

He even sells the small bits of sentiment present in this irreverent take on the 1800s classic. Curry’s presence represents the big distinguishing factor from Christmas Carol to Treasure Island in the Muppet movie canon. The former holds onto the terror and pathos and sentimentality of its source material, whereas the latter mostly chucks it in favor of full-blown comedy built around the spine of the original novel’s plot.

But to the extent Muppet Treasure Island indulges in such emotionality, it comes right from the book, in the warm and paternal relationship between Long John Silver and Jim Hawkins. Curry hams it up with gusto throughout the picture. But when called upon to do so, he offers genuine affection for his young would-be ward, selling a true fondness for the boy that plucks the heartstrings in just the right melody to sweeten an otherwise bonkers rendition of the tale. As much as Curry lets his freak flag fly here with goofy expressions and infectious flair, in that rare moments when it’s needed, he offers the authenticity and more down-to-earth character work that he’s no less good at.

The movie isn’t really about that though. It amounts to roughly 2% sentimentality, 28% adventure, and 70% off-the-wall comic shenanigans, a ratio that suits the muppet performers well. Whether it’s a credulous Jim Arrow getting marooned in the guise of a longboat safety inspection, a blind pirate who mistakes a clock for an adversary, or an extended “Cabin Fever” number that sells the deep sea crazies as a brain-addled boogie down, a creative team of Brian Henson, veteran Muppet scribe Jerry Juhl, then-newcomer but eventual Muppet stalwart Kirk R. Thatcher, and James V. Hart mainly use the nautical tale as a springboard for the wiggling dolls’ particular brand of humor.

It works like gangbusters as always. The “casting” is superb. Kermit the Frog makes a sterling (if you’ll pardon the expression) Captain Smollet, himself capable of vacillating between the dramatic and decent and the zany and swashbuckling. Gonzo and Rizzo’s two-man Greek chorus continues to sync well with the classic material, and they make good sidekicks to Hawkins when needed. Piggy’s turn as a jilted grand dame lamenting the scoundrels she dates is a hoot. And Sam the Eagle nearly steals the show as Arrow, overinterpreting his mild-mannered captain’s “whims”, letting his by-the-book impulses get the best of him, and adding a dose of strait-laced dry humor to balance out the standard Muppet insanity.

Along the way are also the sort of fourth-wall breaking gags and self-deprecating humor that began with this crew of knuckleheads in The Muppet Movie. One running gag features Rizzo having sold passage on the Hispaniola to a group of fellow rats who treat it like a modern cruise, replete with shuffleboard, island tours, and a dinner show, adding some levity and a sense of “It’s just a movie” to the scarier elements of the flick. In the same vein, Statler and Waldorf are transformed into the figurehead of the ship itself, but are undaunted in taking potshots at the quality of the film and their co-stars. The trademarks of the Muppet brand of yuk-raking remain and still generate laughs in the post-Jim era.

The only major knock against the film comes from one of those “Of its time” elements of the film. The depiction of the boars on the local island as angry natives is not great. Their presentation is drawn right from the book, so it’s not as though the Henson Productions crew pulled it out of whole cloth, but it still veers into some unfortunate stereotypes. Otherwise, the only issue is that the Kermit/Piggy romance well runs a tad dry when there’s more interesting story beats afoot, and their love song is arguably the weakest tune in the film.

But that's no sin when the music is this good. While Paul Williams is sadly absent from the piano once more, songwriters Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil craft some absolute bops for the piece. The aforementioned cabin fever track is a ton of fun, and everything from the boffo opening pirate shanty, to Silver’s arch number about how pirates are misjudged and misunderstood, blends toe-tapping tunes with a type of winking, wooly humor that fits with the tone of the film.

It’s a tone exemplified by the most substantial human performer in the movie. Curry plays his role to the hilt, exhibiting guile, glee, goofiness, and even a touch of warmth whenever the story calls for it. Muppet Treasure Island follows his lead. There is a solid arc here, about the quest for adventure and what it means to find a family when you have none. But more than that, the movie is a superb excuse to clown around in a pirate tale in the way that only the Muppets can. With the man who once strolled a spooky mansion in platform shoes rather than a seafaring vessel’s planks in a pirate’s bilgy boots, the felt and foam characters find a joker tailor-made to play along.