The Muppet Christmas Carol was also the first theatrical release during The Muppets’ troubled partnership with Disney. Despite Disney’s lacklustre legacy since their full takeover of The Muppets brand in 2004, A Christmas Carol enjoys a unique place in the Muppets chronology, benefitting from that sweet House of Mouse money yet enjoying more creative control. This concoction of incredible production value from Disney alongside the imaginative and creative prowess of The Jim Henson Company was the perfect storm. As such, The Muppet Christmas Carol is a chart-topping showstopper, considered by many to be the best of all Christmas films.

In this Movie List from The Film Magazine, all of The Muppet Christmas Carol has been put under the microscope and evaluated. Having explored each individual moment to see why this particular Muppets movie has become such a special festive favourite over the last 30 years, we have compiled a list of the most fun, emotionally resonant, powerful and beloved bits, for these: the 10 Best The Muppet Christmas Carol Moments.

Follow @thefilmagazine on X (Twitter).

10. Christmas Scat

By 1992, the technological innovation of the Jim Henson Company had come a long way since Jim himself had cut up his mother’s dressing gown to make his first sock puppet. The Muppet Christmas Carol is distinct from the previous cinematic releases of the Muppets as the direction took a bold step from camera angles akin to ‘The Sooty Show’, finally having the CG technology available to erase away pesky visible puppeteers. No more shots exclusively from the waist up! Thus, far more dynamic and exciting shots were finally achieved to truly fool us that the Muppets can inhabit our human world.

This technological innovation reaches its peak in this single scene of Bob Cratchit and Tiny Tim returning home from church whilst singing to each other. It’s hard to believe that this cute little scene was the most challenging to film, but the efforts in creating a free standing and dancing puppet will convince children that Kermit the Frog is just as real as Santa Claus.

Recommended for you: ‘The Muppet Christmas Carol’ at 30 – Review

9. One More Sleep ’til Christmas

For those who share in the tradition of watching The Muppets Christmas Carol on Christmas Eve, it is very likely due to this single song. Nothing is guaranteed to get young children as hyped and excited for Father Christmas’ imminent arrival as much Kermit the Frog does. After our first introduction to Michael Caine’s frankly terrifying Scrooge, no wonder his book-keeping staff are overjoyed by the prospect of having a day off.

This moment doesn’t just capture the excitement of the season, but also the solemnity. As Kermit sings the final notes of “One More Sleep ’til Christmas”, staring into the distance as a shooting star streaks by, a tangible melancholy fills the screen. The anxieties and hopes of the season come to a fruition for this single moment; will peace finally reign this Christmas? The whole mood is made more palpable knowing that Kermit’s performer Steve Whitmire was full of anxiety, filling his beloved mentor’s boots in the first feature film since his passing. Kermit’s pensive moment is as if a reassurance that Henson’s legacy is in safe hands.

In truth, all these aspects have to be considered, including more abstract qualities such as themes and impact on the course of cinema and wider society. In short, the films I have included are ones that have profoundly moved me in some way. Cinema is art that has the honour of enchanting us through its enriching in both the dimensions of time and space. And art therefore shall be assessed in this list by its emotive qualities.

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10. Ben-Hur (1959)

Kicking off the list is William Wyler’s directorial crowning achievement, the second of three Hollywood adaptions of Lew Wallace’s novel: “Ben Hur: A Tale of the Christ”. This film is often considered to be the definitive religious epic, with enough sweat and sand to be the envy of all other rival sword and sandal flicks.

Indeed, no aspect of the movie falls short of this description, from the next level ham acting from Charlton Heston in the titular role to the now infamous chariot scene which boasted an 18 acre set and 15,000 extras. Each element complemented a story of immense highs and lows filled with treachery, revenge and redemption.

The film’s extremely brief depiction of Christ remains one of the most popular with a rarely bestowed Vatican approval – a faceless Christ helping the ailing Judah Ben Hur with the gentle offer of water remains spine-tingling to this day. Consequentially, MGM’s gamble paid off, with the film’s return saving the studio from bankruptcy (for when accounting for inflation it is the 13th highest-grossing film of all time). It would also earn critical and peer approval, becoming the first film to earn the legendary 11 Academy Awards including Best Picture.

Ben-Hur is now such an integral part of Western Pop Culture it is often imitated but never bested, with numerous homages and parodies from the pod race in The Phantom Menace to the hilarious “A Star is Burns” episode of ‘The Simpsons’.

9. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)

Not only is this one of the most beautiful films to look at on this list, it is also the foundation of one of the biggest empires of the modern era.

The film project, based on The Brothers Grimm fairy tale, was nicknamed “Disney’s folly” during its production, as it was expected to flop. However, the revenue it earned was responsible for building the Disney Studios at Burbank: accounting for inflation, it remains the highest grossing-animated film of all time.

It would be difficult to argue that Snow White doesn’t deserve this accolade, considering its innovation and the sheer effort in creating the first-ever feature length animation – there are several stories of animator frustrations regarding the months of agonising labour put into sequences of cell-animation that would only last one minute on screen (the dwarves “Heigh-ho” march) or would be cut entirely.

These hand-drawn and hand painted efforts (actual rouge was used for Snow White’s rosy cheeks) were not in vain considering their legacy. The meticulous animation resulted in unforgettable characterisation, notably the Queen’s regal villainy and the charm of the dwarfs, particularly Dopey. The enormous production efforts poured into Disney’s gamble means this animation stands out as the most beautiful to this day, particularly in comparison to Disney’s Xerox era. Furthermore, Snow White was the last true animation trailblazer for decades until the advent of Computer Generated animation, meaning the success of most 2D animation productions is owed to Snow White.

Beyond animation, Snow White was a trend setter to other industry practices being one of the first movies to sell related merchandise on its release (which became another significant cornerstone of the Disney empire) alongside a released soundtrack – with Disney’s music now being just as famous as its animation.

As Snow White edges closer to its century anniversary, the film’s place on this list is validated by the fact that children around the world continue to be intrigued and enthralled by this film. Even if the Disney empire eventually collapses, the continuing popularity of Snow White means the name will still be regarded as legendary.

In the film, disaffected bureaucrat Theo Faron (Clive Owen) is tasked with shepherding the last pregnant woman in the world, Kee (Clare-Hope Ashitey), to a safe haven to escape the calamity. By adopting a hyper-vérité style akin to what Gillo Pontecorvo employed in The Battle of Algiers (1966), Cuarón offers a merciless conviction in his direction, using the documentary-adjacent style to achieve maximum effect.

The film uses its action as a vital point to create friction and heightens it through sequences that apply constant pressure to the characters and each of us. Children of Men creates tension unlike any film of the new millennium by maximising its long takes through composed pacing, definitive choreography, and a hardened realism. By combing all of those efforts, the film leaves a lasting impression and raises the bar on the capabilities of modern filmmaking.

Long takes in the modern age have become something of a gimmick when the director wants to show off their prowess as an artist, and they can often leave you wanting more as they simply buoy through a scene with no real purpose. Children of Men has several long take sequences that are incremented together, but instead of being monotonous and drawn-out they are all-encompassing, kinetic, and well-paced. By spacing out the one-takes, Cuarón makes these moments more palatable for us instead of having it feel like one long slide down to the bottom.

This is perhaps best illustrated when Theo, Kee and Miriam (Pam Ferris) attempt to escape from the Fishes (an anti-fascist resistance group fighting for social liberation) after learning some troubling news. The camera carefully follows Theo at ground level as he leads Kee and Miriam around the compound in the early morning and, despite the natural jitters that come with shooting handheld, is done in smooth and guarded fashion. It never shakes too much for it to be nauseating, nor does it feel sluggish, moving step-for-step no matter how fast or slow. Accompanying that with the ambient sound of dawn, it makes every noise heard (near or far) sound deafening. It’s the sneaking around version of driving the nitro-glycerine trucks from Henri-Georges Clouzot’s The Wages of Fear (1953) – any mishap could be catastrophic, and momentum is crucial.

Pacing a take not only affects the action of the current moment but can also reflect the stylistic tone of an entire film. A couple of examples of rhythmic difference in long-takes from the last few years can be that of Sam Mendes’ British World War 1 epic 1917 (2019) and Romain Gavras’ modern French uprising film Athena (2022). Both effectively use long takes but harness wildly different pacing styles.

1917 is designed to look like one continuous shot (with some small digital edits), and uses a variety of crane and Steadicam shots to take in the scenery of Northern France in World War One. In contrast, Athena is shot frenetically, as the bedlam of every scene is accentuated by a handheld dexterity that hits like a bolt of lightning, as it augments the banlieue (French for “suburb”) Athena to new heights. If the pacing of 1917 is methodical and Athena’s dynamic, Children of Men is able to find the sweet spot of the two more often than not by ramping up and down the action when needed to convey sensitive information. Now, there are times when the camera perhaps lingers longer than it should instead of just simply cross-cutting, but it works to keep tempo stylistically with the rest of the film.

In addition to each of the long takes being well-paced, they are also immaculately designed and choreographed. The blocking that is on display ensures that everything in the frame gets used and there is no dead space being packed into the shot. The scene that highlights this the best is the Canterbury forest ride ambush, which happens relatively early but sets the stage for the onslaught our heroes will be encountering.

It begins innocently enough, with Theo and his ex-wife/resistance leader Julian (Julianne Moore) playing a game of blowing ping pong balls into each other’s mouths and casually flirting, while fellow resistance member Luke (Chiwetel Ejiofor) drives. As they move through the forest, they are swarmed by a group of armed deserters who go on the offensive against our helpless heroes as the camera oscillates inside the vehicle, capturing the madness.

Beginning from Theo’s perspective in the car, and switching and forth during the blitz, the sheer number of people converging on the vehicle is overwhelming and makes a typically open space feel claustrophobic. It’s as though the characters are drowning on dry land, and the mania amps up even more when Julian is shot by chasing motorcyclists. There might be some lingering questions regarding the legitimacy of a small group being able to overwhelm the car so ineffectively, but it does add thematic context to the story of showcasing hope (what little there is) against despair.

But staging and pacing can only be properly utilized if there is truly exceptional camerawork that can create a definitive realism. The camera team behind the film – director Alfonso Cuarón and his long-time friend/collaborator Emmanuel Lubezki – craft a raw and murky modernity that makes the characters and environments feel lived-in, ranging from the bureaucratic and consumer-obsessed metropolis to the confines of a secluded log cabin.

When describing why he wanted to shoot Children of Men in non-fluid long takes, Cuarón stated that it “was to take advantage of the element of real-time.” This harkens back to the documentary-like style mentioned at the top and how each shot, no matter how extreme, provokes a visceral and truthful reaction against an imperial obstacle in a way that is plausible and terrifying. It puts a mental timer on the viewer and makes each subsequent choice more pivotal than the last.

The sequence that features this as a focal point is that of the climatic refugee camp warzone, where Theo has to rescue Kee from the Fishes as they do battle against the British military. This is the point of the film where the battle between these two opposing forces reaches its most hysterical.

As the hand-held camera follows Theo as he traverses this makeshift battlefield in the hope of rescuing Kee, the sequence intoxicates as the descending tanks and constant gunfire capture the tumultuous and bombastic elements of a real-time war unfolding. What makes this long-take so effective is the velocity of the violence that is taking place. The bullets whiz through everything like paper and deal swift death, while the explosions are practical and create a large shock not just in Theo but in each of us too.

A moment that is particularly striking, though brief, is when Theo has to take cover inside a bus as an armoured tank approaches and blood gets on the camera lens. The scene evokes the same deadly speed and emotional stakes as Steven Spielberg’s taking of Omaha Beach in Saving Private Ryan (1998), developing in a way that is both realistic and colossal. The films also share the characteristic of having its lens be muddied with blood and dirt to showcase the magnitude of their skirmishes.

Even though Saving Private Ryan is a brutal depiction of battle and portrait of valor, there are a few moments where the bravado of the soldiers and the spectacle of war as a whole overtake it to the point of it becoming pure entertainment and losing its gravitas. In Children of Men, you get the opposite effect. There is no lionizing of the characters, they are all deeply flawed people who have to claw their way out of every hellish situation, with each scenario becoming more unforgiving and vicious than the last.

Putting it all together, Children of Men cements itself in cinema history as an awe-inspiring tour de force in science fiction action. It puts us squarely into the headspaces of its characters and does so with authenticity and conviction. Fusing that with the brilliance of Cuarón’s direction, it creates visual splendor with each shot and subverts action convention at every turn. It’s nothing short of an emotionally rich film, one that was game-changing when it was released in theatres and remains nothing short of a miracle today.

Written by Mark Serravalle

You can support Mark Serravalle on Twitter: @MarkSerravalle

The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)
Director: Brian Henson
Screenwriter: Jerry Juhl
Starring: Michael Caine, Dave Goelz, Steve Whitmire, Jerry Nelson, Frank Oz, Steven Mackintosh, Meredith Braun, Robin Weaver, Raymond Coulthard

Even on its 30th birthday there remains a melancholic touch to the opening moments of The Muppet Christmas Carol. Its immediate dedication to Muppets creator Jim Henson and fellow performer Richard Hunt (the voice behind Scooter), each of whom had died before the film’s production in the January of 1992, has grown more bittersweet over the years in lieu of Disney’s complete takeover of the Muppets franchise (even owning the rights to the word “Muppet”). In witnessing these dedications in the current era, it is difficult to not think of the words of Jim Henson’s close friend and long-time collaborator Frank Oz, who in an interview with Hadley Freeman of The Guardian in 2021, said: “The Disney deal is probably what killed Jim. It made him sick.”

Disney only gained full ownership of The Muppets in 2004, but they had pursued the frog and pig show since the late 80s: according to Oz, Jim had expressed interest in selling the company so that he could focus more on creation as opposed to running a business. However, in getting into talks with Disney’s head at the time, Michael Eisner, a Pandora’s Box of greed swung open, with Disney’s intent being to buy ‘Sesame Street’, which Henson was vehemently against. Jim Henson died suddenly in 1990, not soon after the beginning of these talks. The cause: toxic shock syndrome from a streptococcal infection.

‘Sesame Street’ remains out of Disney’s grasp to this day (though it has sadly been messed around with by the HBO and Warner Bros. merger), but Disney has indeed massively benefitted from its Muppet purchase with their massive backlog of movies, TV specials and numerous episodes of ‘The Muppet Show’ fleshing out their Disney+ streaming service library. Of course, since its purchase, Disney have helmed their own Muppet productions with one of their latest series ‘Muppets Now’ being lauded as the Muppets renaissance; but Oz in the same interview doesn’t pull his punches with regards to this latest output. The original voice behind Fozzie Bear and Miss Piggy hasn’t worked on any Muppet productions since 2007 and believes there is a stark difference between the Henson and Disney era of the Muppets:

“The soul’s not there. The soul is what makes things grow and be funny. ” 

Indeed The Muppet Christmas Carol finds itself in the middle of this claim – it is often revered as the hallmark of Muppet film productions and hasn’t been surpassed critically or in popularity since. Made in the shadow of his father’s passing, Brian Henson was the one in the director’s seat and (in accordance with Frank Oz’s claims) struggled with protecting his vision from the criticism of the Disney overseers. Thus, The Muppet Christmas Carol very much remains in the Henson era camp, and represents the importance of creativity and soul when it comes to creating truly memorable Muppets moments.

As it celebrates the big 3-0, now is the best time to examine how and why The Muppet Christmas Carol remains the perfect Muppet movie.

Charles Dickens’ 1843 novella “A Christmas Carol” is one of the most adapted works of English literature in history. It has featured prominently throughout the entirety of film and television, from the silent short films at the very beginning of Hollywood to a BBC and FX-collaborated mini-series starring Guy Pearce in 2019 and a number of feature releases in the 2020s. It truly is a timeless tale.

Recommended for you: A Christmas Carol Films Ranked

The story of a cruel and miserly money-lender’s reformation and redemption by learning the importance of kindness and generosity during yuletide – via a series of hauntings from the ghosts of Christmas’ past, present and future – has become as integral to telling the true Christmas message as the actual Nativity story. But, as Dickens’ festive tale has become so memorable that any Christmas lover could tell it as easily as describing the back of their own hand, how does one make a truly unique re-telling?

Frankly, the whole production of The Muppet Christmas Carol is nothing short of genius; the very idea of using Muppets to tell one of the greatest fables of all time is beautifully subversive. The creative team’s self-awareness of the Muppets’ association with goofy fun made the shattering of expectations of an asinine re-telling that much more brilliant. Of course, every opportunity to make a gag is taken and, despite this laugh-a-minute approach, the authenticity of the production team’s handling of the source material means The Muppet Christmas Carol certifies itself as one of the most evocative and dark film adaptions of them all. Consequentially, children are never pandered to but instead thrilled, leading them to be enthralled by re-watches as adults.

“Boy, that’s scary stuff! Should we be worried about the kids in the audience?”

“Nah, it’s all right. This is culture!”

The Muppet magic begins instantly as the opening credits present the Muppets themselves credited in the different roles (with Rizzo the Rat as Himself), alongside the correct listings of the human players, such as Michael Caine as Scrooge. This seamless blending of humans and Muppets, in not just the principle characters but also in the numerous extras, succeeds in the creation of a little world ripe to be immersed within. As such, both the zaniness of the Muppets and the seriousness of the humans are normalised, allowing for rapid but not jarring switches in tone.

The film’s MC is Gonzo the Great in the role of Charles Dickens, who is essentially the guide of the story through his narration. This is one of the key features that contributes to this adaption’s distinctiveness (and why it is also lauded as the best version); for by taking the story-teller approach there are no issues with exposition, so no awkward plot backflips are made to address key literary points. It also leads to greater authenticity, as the film is consequentially littered with direct quotes. There is no awkward out-of-time modern dialogue, just the atmospheric narration of one of England’s greatest wordsmiths.

Gonzo and Rizzo’s narration is largely responsible for the changing tone throughout the runtime, providing comic relief amongst the dark themes of the narrative. Unlike many modern children’s movies however, intense emotional moments are not ruined by unnecessary quips or sarcasm. The narrative vehicle complements sorrowful story beats, such as Gonzo comforting an upset Rizzo after witnessing a younger Scrooge lose the love of his life, and at times even completely stands back to let a heavy atmosphere breathe, such as in the sequence with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come in which both narrators are completely absent. Conversely, their continuing shenanigans in trailing behind Scrooge during his ghostly journey helps to entertain younger viewers who may not be able to understand the main storyline, thus consolidating its universal appeal.

Gonzo and Rizzo being one of the main sources of the film’s comedy illustrates the intuitive casting of The Muppet Christmas Carol: human and Muppet. This is the first of the Muppets’ feature length movies in which the fuzzy puppets aren’t the narrative focus of the plot; the movie is more akin to ‘The Muppet Show’ in which the Muppets are the talented ensemble supporting the human guest star, and here they are used to their full potential. Many of the beloved Muppet characters have quite a short appearance (as many original puppets were necessary for the telling of this particular story), but they make their impact instantly, i.e Fozzie Bear’s simplistic optimism and Sam Eagle’s austere air (and his continuing American Patriotism even when trapped in a British novella).

Kermit the Frog has not only been the long-time straight man of the gang, but has also been the heart of most of the Muppet productions. The Muppet Christmas Carol is no exception. Here, our little green friend is cast in the role of Bob Cratchit, Ebenezer Scrooge’s underpaid clerk. If the magic of this film is to be summarised by one screen capture, it would be that of Bob Cratchit singing the last few notes of “One More Sleep ’til Christmas” whilst watching a shooting star fly past in the wintry cityscape. It is Kermit as Bob that steers the plot through its most poignant and saddest moments, soothing his family with wisdom relevant to those experiencing grief in real life.

Additionally, it is Kermit as Bob Cratchit who embodies the true meaning of Christmas through his joy. The joy of being able to spend time with his family, to share in their excitement of sharing a simple meal (but one prepared with love), and to feel pride in his children, particularly for their developing kindness and empathy. Even the usually flamboyant Miss Piggy manages to bring an understated tenderness and domesticity to her role as Emily Cratchit, pairing with Kermit in moments of sadness and the joy of family life (although she does manage to fling an insult at Scrooge’s fashion taste). And yet, the most ingenious Muppet casting of the film is Kermit’s nephew Robin as Bob Cratchit’s son, Tiny Tim.

Dickens had the unfortunate habit of making some of his main sympathetic characters absolutely detestable through their unnervingly sweet nature (looking at you “Oliver Twist”), so any depiction of Tiny Tim tends to be in danger of being utterly despicable. Luckily, when your cast is made up mostly of Muppets, nearly all of the characters have some guaranteed charisma, and quite frankly Robin as Tiny Tim is nothing short of adorable, the undisputed cutest performance of all adaptions.

Bob and Tim’s performance in the “Christmas Scat” is endearing, charming and joyful. Even when Tiny Tim leads the family in a song of “Bless Us All”, Robin’s performance avoids a sanctimonious air and is instead convincing as having a genuine love for his family and of those around him (especially as he seconds his father’s choice to name Mr Scrooge the founder of the feast). In what could have been something overly pious, unrelatable and cringe, the music and lyrics are inclusive through a non-denominational approach, with the prayerful intentions heartfelt and simple: the hopes for a happy Christmas and a happy family.

Credit must also be given to The Muppet Christmas Carol for portraying Tiny Tim as actually being sick: this lifts the adaption from clichéd disability inspiration into a fable of the injustice of poverty. Through his journey with The Ghost of Christmas Present, Scrooge is able to witness how his miserly ways and cruelty has a direct impact on the innocent people (and Muppets and creatures) around him. His wilful underpaying of his employees has threatened the health of innocent children and has potentially drastically shortened their life expectancy, and the guilt is etched all over Scrooge’s face. This represents the sincerity of this adaptation – Charles Dickens for all intents and purposes was the 19th Century equivalent of a modern-day social justice warrior who used his talents to channel his outrage over the poverty and mistreatment of the vulnerable throughout his society. In kind, The Muppet Christmas Carol makes every choice to give Dickens’ message as much impact as possible with no waste on dramatics and operatics.

The greatest shred of evidence of the production’s dedication to an authentic re-telling of Dickens’ story is the casting of Sir Michael Caine in the role of Ebenezer Scrooge. Michael Caine has admitted that he’d been dying to be a part of Muppet chaos since ‘The Muppet Show’ first aired in the 70s, which he was sadly never available to guest star on. As soon as he heard that a Muppets version of “A Christmas Carol” was in the works, he had his agent badger the production daily until he was offered an audition. He was duly offered the role that would become the most memorable to Sir Michael Caine himself, and would be the introduction to his incredible career for all generations that have been raised with this movie.

A common frustration with later Muppet features is the way human characters interact with The Muppets, often treating them as novelties or freaks, which can shatter the illusion. The same cannot be said of The Muppet Christmas Carol: Sir Michael Caine told director Brian Henson that he had the intention of acting as if he was doing a production for the Royal Shakespeare Company, which aligned precisely with what those behind the camera were reaching to achieve. A Scrooge acting as if it’s completely normal having a frog and rats work as his book-keeping staff is indeed the perfect recipe for top notch comedy. This is a key factor in the careful orchestration of this film’s tonal changes, allowing tension to be broken and giving young audiences a deeper insight into an often frightening story whilst providing them with raucously funny moments.

It is this sincere performance by Sir Michael Caine that carries most of the emotional weight of the movie and elevates Caine himself above other on-screen depictions of Scrooge. Many an actor’s version of Scrooge has been frozen into a curmudgeonly glower, particularly those offered by Albert Finney and Jim Carrey. In stark contrast, Michael Caine’s Scrooge is boasting the entire range, from cool derision to fiery rage and even a touch of gleeful sadism. Furthermore, his Scrooge lacks the initial twinkle in his eye that has often been employed in other adaptations, including Bill Murray’s and Kelsey Grammer’s; instead Caine employs the use of his iconic cold stare, the likes of which made him an unmissable movie star in violent films throughout the 70s and 80s, such as Get Carter. Michael Caine’s Scrooge is not only formidable but genuinely quite frightening, and therefore the progression of his character’s arc proves to be quite the wild ride as Caine’s performance through Scrooge’s tragedies and regrets is nothing short of incredibly moving. As Tiny Tim leads the Cratchit family in a round of “Bless Us All”, we melt as Scrooge melts; we see him fill up with guilt, regret, and even love and fondness – it’s etched all over his face. Scrooge’s redemption is not a case of us finding out what we knew all along, that Scrooge was a decent man deep down – Caine’s Scrooge is an actual transformation that had to win our sympathy through his moving experiences.

Thus it proves to be extremely frustrating that one of the most poignant scenes that provides significant backstory as to why Scrooge had become so cold is cut from the film. Meredith Braun as Scrooge’s fiancée Belle sings “When Love is Gone” when she ends her engagement with the young Scrooge as Caine looks on and shakily joins in with the last verse only to break down in tears. This scene was cut in the original theatrical release as Disney had thought it was too upsetting to younger audiences. It was subsequently included in the VHS version but was again excluded for the DVD, Blu Ray, television and streaming releases, much to the protest and dismay of those who grew up with the VHS version (especially at the news that the original master recording may have been lost, and especially as its exclusion leaves a jarring cut). Brian Henson revealed in 2020 that this version had been located and that the scene was hopefully going to be added back into later editions.

Ultimately, the cutting of this scene represents a lack of vision from Disney and supports their current reputation for preferring the least offensive and most lazy filmmaking, often coasting on the creativity of other innovators like Jim Henson, Stan Lee and George Lucas. When thoroughly examining the production choices of The Muppet Christmas Carol, it quickly becomes apparent that such powerful storytelling could never come from a boardroom, Disney or otherwise. The film’s message is not merely a reminder of being kind and generous during Christmas, it promotes the transforming power of kindness and preaches that the unfair hoarding of wealth is immoral, evil. Scrooge’s death in the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come’s vision is portrayed as brining joy to the townsfolk; the song “Marley and Marley” explicitly states Scrooge’s late partner’s greed as the cause of their damned afterlife (doomed to drag around heavy chains for all eternity). It really is a song many of us would want some of the current world leaders and public figures to sit down and listen to.

As such, the creative team behind The Muppet Christmas Carol have become a part of the rallying cry that has continued for well over a century since Dickens’ death. It is a film in defence of the vulnerable in society and denounces the greed of the super-rich. This is something that the tax dodging and anti-LGBTQ+ lobbying suits of the Walt Disney Company could never meaningfully achieve.

Score: 22/24

Recommended for you: The Muppets Movies Ranked

This adaptation, still the most famous film adaptation of the iconic DC Comics character, is of course headlined by the outstanding Oscar-winning performance of Heath Ledger as the Joker. Ledger, who was just 27 at the time of filming, dominated Nolan’s feature with a starring turn that is still regarded as the very best in the genre’s history, his untimely passing at the age of 28 only cementing the legend surrounding his masterful portrayal.

In The Dark Knight, Ledger’s Joker challenges Bruce Wayne’s beliefs at their very core, Batman’s mirror image and eternal foe causing the superhero an ideological crisis through an unrelenting and unpredictable assault on not only the Batman, but on Gotham and the systems that hold together much of modern society’s moral standards and beliefs too; Joker being a physical manifestation of chaos in an ordered world.

In this Movie List, we at The Film Magazine will be looking at each of the confrontations between Joker and Batman, and will be comparing them to the other iconic moments Christopher Nolan and his ensemble of star names created, to judge the very best moments from The Dark Knight. Whether they be memorable and iconic scenes, important moments of characterisation or unforgettable quotes, these are the 10 Best The Dark Knight Moments.

Read 10 Best Batman Begins Moments before you read this article.

Follow @thefilmagazine on Twitter.

10. Alfred’s Parable

“Some men just wanna watch the world burn.”

Wise old Alfred had always been a doddery old man in Batman screen media, but in Nolan’s Dark Knight Trilogy he held a rough-around-the-edges cockney accent, as well as all of the naturally occurring Michael Caine-isms that came with casting an actor of Caine’s calibre in the role; Caine’s natural charisma and history of work playing playboys, hard men, and menaces, offering depth to a character way less present than his impact suggests.

In The Dark Knight he tells a short tale of how he and a task team tracked a thief in Burma who’d stolen precious gems. At this moment in the film Joker is running rampant, he’s seemingly without cause, and Bruce Wayne (being a relatively young man) is sticking to his guns that everyone wants something, that all Wayne has to do is work out what that is. This is when Alfred becomes more than a butler, more than a surrogate father, he becomes a mentor; a vital cog in the Batman machine made for more than simply bringing Bruce morning smoothies and ordering parts.

It’s a one minute scene delivered in stunning monologue by an all-time great screen presence; a piece of writing that explains simply the maniacal methods of the antagonist whilst serving the protagonist with an invaluable lesson that shall shape his ideology moving forward. Alfred, when Bruce needed his advice most, reminded the billionaire from a well-to-do background that not everyone pursues things that are “logical, like money”, that some people “can’t be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with”, that Joker is in essence the counter argument to all that upholds our modern society and that Wayne, as Batman, must be willing to evolve and change in order to combat him.

9. The Assassination Attempt

After so many great Joker moments, seeing the actor underneath the face paint felt like something of a treat once it came in The Dark Knight’s assassination attempt scene. Such was Nolan’s intent for the character, it was only a brief glimpse, but as is often the case with the best moments in this director’s films, it came in the midst of an important story beat that enhanced characterisation and accelerated the pace of the narrative.

With Bruce Wayne following breadcrumbs in an attempt to uncover the whereabouts of Joker, an apparent threat to the safety of government officials at Commissioner Loeb’s state funeral, the noise of the public parade sinking into a silence as the mayor gives a speech, Nolan masterfully cuts between the main players at an increasing pace, the score roaring back into view as the information Wayne is pursuing comes to reveal itself. With the piercing thuds of the funeral’s gun salute comes gunfire towards our hero from secret service men stationed on rooftops and the reveal that the team performing the gun salute is actually Joker and his “goons” preparing to fire on the mayor. It’s a scene that masters the art of tension in such a context, bringing together any number of elements to best tell the circumstances of the scene but perhaps more impressively tell of Wayne’s centrality to so many important figures within Gotham City and how many people rely on the Batman to keep them safe.

This, of course, acts as a moment of herodom for James Gordon too, who “sacrifices” himself here to save Mayor Garcia, faking his death and going into hiding until he can capture the Joker himself. This crescendo to one of The Dark Knight’s many important high points of tension is a microcosm of this film’s most underrated quality, its pacing; a superb piece of filmmaking that served to better Nolan’s reputation but more importantly an already terrifically strong story.

Recommended for you: Live-Action Batmen Ranked

What Nolan put together was an all-star Batman movie in front of the camera and behind the scenes. Whether it be Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Rutger Hauer and Liam Neeson on the screen, or Hans Zimmer, James Newton Howard, David S. Goyer and Wally Pfister behind it, Batman Begins was more than what we had come to know of superhero movies to that point; it was a top-of-class cinematic experience in a sub-genre that to date had only ever seen Superman, Blade, X-Men and Spider-Man have a taste of success. Nolan was a director destined to change what we understand the modern blockbuster to be, and in Batman Begins he made his first steps, evolving superhero cinema in his image by eventising high quality tension-driven fare.

In this Movie List from The Film Magazine, we’re celebrating the work of Christopher Nolan and his ensemble of cast and crew to judge which of Batman Begins’ myriad of memorable moments are its most memorable, most important and most impactful, comparing the iconic to the memeworthy, from the prologue to the epilogue, for this: the 10 Best Batman Begins Moments.

Follow @thefilmagazine on Twitter.

10. Batman Meets Scarecrow

“Do you want my opinion? You need to lighten up.”

While the obvious challenges to Batman in Batman Begins may be the corporate deconstruction of Bruce Wayne’s business empire and his battling of the degradation of Gotham’s underworld, Scarecrow’s presence in Rachel’s life is one that grows in importance as Bruce’s desire to be with Rachel does, Batman finally confronting “the face of fear” as Gotham begins to crumble around him and Rachel gets in over her head.

By this point in Batman Begins, Dr Crane has already proven the power of his lethal toxin on mob boss Falcone, and in doing so has proven to us that he is capable of offering a far tougher test to Batman/Bruce Wayne than the physical altercations he has so far been in. Appropriately, the scene begins in darkness, Batman fighting from his position of strength, but as Scarecrow’s toxin is deployed we see Batman struggle while in his element, a painful reminder of the struggles of the first act and a clever foreshadowing of the mental games that shall prove his biggest test in this story’s third act.

The scene ends with a blow out that sees the Batman fall several stories whilst on fire – it’s quite the visual – Bruce Wayne waking to Alfred and Lucius Fox after dreaming of his father rescuing him from the cave, the words “why do we fall Bruce?” echoing into consciousness as we experience one last character development within a multifunctional scene.

9. Rachel’s Final Decree

“The man I loved, the man who vanished, he never came back at all […] Maybe once Gotham no longer needs Batman, we’ll see him again.”

After saving Gotham from city-wide destruction, Bruce Wayne’s childhood friend Rachel Dawes – the woman who has inspired his ideological stance and has been trusted with knowing that he is the Batman – offers a truth that serves as a painful blow: that for Bruce to save Gotham, he must learn forego all personal relationships.

It’s a scene representative of Wayne’s ongoing turmoil throughout the trilogy, a stark reminder of what Wayne must sacrifice for the greater good, and of course vital to how we understand him in The Dark Knight when he loses Rachel, and particularly The Dark Knight Rises when he has to offer the ultimate sacrifice of giving up on everything and everyone he knows. In the context of Batman Begins, it illustrates that for all the good Batman has clearly achieved, the man himself remains unsalvaged from the grief-ridden young man of the first act, his pain and darkness only growing deeper, his person having become more isolated, Bruce Wayne having become the Batman for better and for worse.

Made on budgets that doubled release on release ($16.5million, $33million and $63million respectively), and directed by Jay Roach (Meet the Parents; Trumbo; Bombshell), the Austin Powers films may have aged somewhat in the 25 years since the release of the first film (International Man of Mystery) in terms of comedic style and representation, but what remains of the movies beyond such cultural touchstones of controversial 90s culture are intelligent comedy hits that are as quotable and worthy of reference as the great films they are themselves referencing.

Inspired by Michael Caine’s The Ipcress File (1965) character Harry Palmer, right down to the iconic glasses, and obviously deconstructing the Sean Connery James Bond films, Austin Powers is a parody that lovingly pokes fun at the silver screen classics it’s mimicking, always has time for supporting characters to get their moments, and feels as on the pulse as great zeitgeist-penetrating hits whilst remaining timeless in its physical comedy and strong undercurrent of empathy and love.

In this edition of Ranked, we at The Film Magazine are looking back on Jay Roach and Mike Myers’ Peter Sellers-inspired hit comedy trilogy to judge each in terms of laugh-out-loud comedy, cultural importance, artistic merit and relative achievements in bringing joy to each of us, for this: the Austin Powers Movies Ranked.

Follow @thefilmagazine on Twitter.

3. Austin Powers in Goldmember (2002)

Austin Powers goes full meta with the inclusion of A-List cameos for an in-universe Powers movie titled Austinpussy. Meanwhile, Beyoncé ribs on blaxploitation heroines as this movie’s sidekick and Michael Caine debuts as Austin’s father (or “fazher” as titular character Goldmember would pronounce it).

Michael Myers’ favourite Austin Powers movie brings an even stronger focus towards parodying film tropes and in doing so loses some of the heart that proves to be such an important and underrated aspect of the first two trilogy entries.

Whilst certainly the most modern of the Powers films, not only in terms of release date but also in style – it featuring more memorable moments and quotable lines than meaningful characterisation or decisive story beats – Goldmember sits at the foot of this list because the real grit and artistry that tied the comedy together in films one and two is sorely lacking from this more vignette-style entry.

The budget was upped, the influence of Myers had grown as his independent comedy hero had become a mainstream icon, and the result was a less focused “play the hits” barrage of Powersisms; a funny movie for sure, but one without the same empathy or consistent belly laughs.

In this Movie List from The Film Magazine, we are counting down the 5 Best Christmas Films with Happy Endings; films that define our human and Christmas spirit.

Follow @thefilmagazine on Twitter.

1. It’s a Wonderful Life

It’s a Wonderful Life Review

Frank Capra’s 1946 film It’s a Wonderful Life tells the story of George Bailey; an everyman from Bedford Falls who is contemplating suicide on Christmas Eve to overcome financial difficulties for his small buildings and loans company. The film is predominantly told in flashback as we see the totality of George’s life, from his being a youngster on the ice in winter-time through to him stood on a bridge staring into the abyss at Christmas. A guardian angel by the name of Clarence comes down to show George what a gift he has been to the people in the town, and shows him a dark alternative world that would have resulted had he never been born.

George learns that family and friends are perhaps the most important aspect of not just his but anybody’s life – as the card from Clarence notes ‘No man is a failure if he has friends’. The film’s climax at the Bailey household finds George redeemed and reborn, full of mirth and joy, as he is surrounded by his wife Mary (Donna Reed) and a town full of benevolent friends. The cathartic release of the film’s finale helps George to prioritise family above money, love above ambition; these lessons are universal and explain the annual appeal of the film. As they sing ‘Auld Lang Syne’ in unison at film’s end, the message is clear that It’s a Wonderful Life is about friendship.

Much like George, the film gained a second chance in the 1970s when it was shown repeatedly on television in the United States; the message of unity through family and only knowing what you have once it’s gone speaks to us all, this masterpiece remaining iconic and beloved to filmgoers old and new year upon year.

Recommended for you: It’s a Wonderful Life – The Truest of Christmas Films

2. White Christmas

Directed by Michael Curtiz (Casablanca), White Christmas (based upon Irving Berlin’s hit single) stars Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye as Bob Wallace and Phil Davis – army buddies who post-WW2 go into showbusiness together. Over the Christmas holidays, they happen upon a holiday resort that is run by their former Major in command (Dean Jagger) and has fallen on hard times. With the help of sisters Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen they enlist their show to help the inn return to its former glory.

While Crosby does charm his way through the film, the star of the show is Kaye. As the buffoonish Davis, Kaye does wonders with a sidekick role and has the best dance number in “The Best Things Happen When You’re Dancing”. It’s feel-good filmmaking for the soul.

The ending is wonderful in that the whole platoon from the start of the film returns to pay homage and honour the service record of their former leader. All the soldiers appearing in uniform to respect their commander means more to him than anything else – a show of solidarity and brotherhood you could only find in the military. Then the film concludes with a rendition of the famous titular song by all the cast as snow descends upon the Vermont location. The magic of Hollywood.

Get Carter (1971)
Director: Mike Hodges
Screenwriter: Mike Hodges
Starring: Michael Caine, Ian Hendry, Britt Ekland, John Osborne, Geraldine Moffat, Dorothy White, Bryan Mosley, Alun Armstrong, Petra Markham

50 years after its release, you would imagine that Get Carter would have lost some of its initial sting, especially as the social perception of this film has now been condensed into a few iconic yet nonetheless reductive moments: a bollock naked Michael Caine with a shotgun in hand and an unfortunate dive from a high-rise car park being prime examples. But, no. Even the most hardened fans of gore and violence are still shocked by the sheer brutality that is Get Carter.

Mike Hodges’ adaption of Ted Lewis’ novel “Jack’s Return Home” was certainly one of the films that marked the shutting of the door on what was the hopeful and colourful decade of the 1960s; and what better antithesis is there to Swingin’ 60s London than bleak 70s Tyneside? Newcastle Upon Tyne has never shook off the grim depiction it earned through Get Carter – though the people of Tyneside have never proven too displeased with their association, dire depiction and all – so it is no surprise that the area is still used as the setting for films regarding poverty and destitution, such as I, Daniel Blake and Sorry We Missed You, to this day.

Here, Michael Caine plays the part of Jack Carter, a gangster working the London scene who, despite the pleas of his mob boss, returns to his hometown of Newcastle on the premise of attending his brother’s funeral but with the actual intention of investigating his brother’s mysterious demise in a supposed drink-driving accident. After the many unsuccessful attempts to wheedle any information from the uncooperative faces of the Newcastle criminal underworld, Carter eventually uncovers the pornographic scandal his family has gotten tangled in. This discovery unlocks a primal fury in what is already an extremely dangerous killer, and in his quest for vengeance Carter quite literally paints the town of Newcastle red.

Get Carter’s plot is initially a convoluted affair, which causes a little difficulty in following the story. All the ugly faces of the Tyneside criminal underworld meld into one, making the game of working out who is actually who on the same level as following the characters in a badly translated version of one of the great Russian novels. In some of these brief moments of confusion you are left with the sinking feeling that you may have missed some important exposition. Patience, however, is a virtue, and eventually these concerns simply evaporate away as any prior pretence of plot is immediately eradicated as we become fully transfixed onto the terrible transformation of Carter. Important plot points remain as Carter ties up the loose ends of his vengeance, but only the bare minimum details of the “whodunnit” are actually required to enjoy the sight of Carter stabbing and brutalising his way through the ganglands of Tyneside.

Mike Hodges’ subversion of our expectations is what makes Get Carter still so fresh and raw to this day: his illusion of the film being a plot piece when it is actually character focused and driven by emotion helps it to stand out against the plethora of gangster films preceding and succeeding it. And at the heart of Get Carter‘s numerous thrilling deceptions is the casting and performance of Michael Caine in the titular role.

Both in 1971 and 2021, Michael Caine is one of the most recognised and esteemed British actors; his enduring charisma has audiences geared to adore whomever he portrays. In Get Carter, it initially appears that Carter will gladly fit into the jolly tropes often associated with British gangster films that often dance into the territory of comedy – Caine has, after all, often dabbled in the morally grey but utterly likeable types before. As Carter wins the allegiance of his dead brother’s associates, smiles at the larger than life characters that could only be found in his quaint hometown, and generously doles out money for the damage and inconvenience caused by his troublesome criminal lifestyle, it is easy to chalk up Carter as an anti-hero, a diamond geezer. But as his quest to find the truth about his brother’s death continues, any illusion over Carter being some hard knock cheeky chappie disappears: Carter is just a straight up cold-hearted bastard. Although Carter’s affairs are strictly within the criminal underworld, it still doesn’t stop his mission from sucking in the innocent bystanders who aren’t always spat out whole. This, combined with some of the nightmarish deaths of the sleazy gangster associates Carter directly and indirectly causes, ensures we can be nothing other than stunned as not one ounce of remorse or shame is given. Jack Carter is not an anti-hero, he’s a monster.

What makes Carter so monstrous is the brutally efficient (almost economical) approach to both Caine’s performance and Hedge’s direction, effectively fleshing out Carter beyond a two-dimensional villain and into something terrifyingly real in the briefest of moments. The complex and sorrowful relationship with his hometown is summed up in one line – “[…] the only reason I came back to this crap house […]” – while the depth of his humanity is entirely illustrated in a single moment of pathos: silent tears at the uncovering of the truth. These tight, punchy moments of emotion may succeed in getting us to empathise with Carter, but the path of violence he leads us down leaves us with little doubt that he is still one evil bastard. For the most part, Caine plays Carter with a devastating coolness, only occasionally dispensing the barest indication of disgust when trawling the Tyneside underbelly, but as he comes close to actually getting a hold of the truth, he goes berserk and the fullness of his fury and rage is let out in a matter of seconds. Carter’s two stabs to the gut release as much power as the Hiroshima bomb and yet it’s over before you realise.

The hugely effective minimalistic methods used in the depiction of Carter are in fact seen throughout all elements of the film, making Get Carter an excellent example of great production value. Absolutely nothing goes to waste as Director Mike Hodges and Producer Michael Klinger get the best from their resources. The film went from concept to completion in only ten months, the musical theme was produced on a budget of £450 with it being recorded directly alongside the playback of the picture (yet still achieving a score quintessentially gritty and British), and not one shot within the film is meaningless – all are packed with either symbolism or fore-shadowing, promising something new on each rewatch. The cinematography in of itself is a major part of the film’s entrancing power. Most clever is the use of unusual close-ups that helps to thrust us into the middle of all the action, making us feel partially responsible for the depraved underworld activities we witness. This forced voyeurism is heightened to an almost meta level when close ups are used as Carter dabbles with some phone sex with his fiancé and our attention is focused on the eaves-dropping landlady, enjoying herself with a good listen.

The use of Newcastle-upon-Tyne and locations all over the North East of England is in hindsight a stroke of genius. The most was made of the local talent, such as Alun Armstrong who would go on to have an illustrious career in film and television, the eccentric Denea Wilde who highlighted the uniqueness of the region with her portrayal of a flirtatious club singer, and the immortalised six-fingered extra appearing in a shot set in a local pub. The area has always been fantastic for lending a sense of grittiness and harshness to a production, but in 1971 the heavy industrialisation of the area made the place look like a terrifying alien planet. Chases through the mix of the iron industrial and concrete brutalist architecture heighten the sense of danger and obstacle in Carter’s mission, adding to the anxiety of the whole affair. The setting of the film’s conclusion at a coastal colliery where the contents of a slag heap is mechanically dumped into the sea achieves a sense of desolation that has not been seen in a movie since, and will probably never be seen again given the dismantling of the coal mining industry in the region throughout the 1980s.

Get Carter may tackle themes and concepts that are difficult to stomach – with the level of misogyny and the brutality of violence, it is certainly not a film for the faint-hearted – but it certainly rewards the brave. A film like Get Carter will never be made again, and is thus a hugely significant part of British Cinema history. Through its production value, excellent direction and a performance from Michael Caine that comes from close to home for him (he often refers to Jack Carter as the ghost of Michael Caine, referring to a path he could have gone down if he had taken a wrong turn in his life), Get Carter is possibly one of the only gangster films to truly illustrate the actual horror of the real criminal underworld, and does the most effective job of convincing us that crime doesn’t pay without any pontification or gimmicky comedy. Get Carter is a film that is fifty years old in 2021 and is guaranteed to stay in our memory for another fifty years.

22/24

Muppet Treasure Island (1996)
Director: Brian Henson
Screenplay: Jerry Juhl, Kirk R. Thatcher, James V. Hart
Starring: Tim Curry, Billy Connolly, Jennifer Saunders, Kevin Bishop, Dave Goelz, Steve Whitmire, Jerry Nelson, Kevin Clash, Bill Barretta, Frank Oz

For all those involved in the creation of what is The Muppets’ fifth theatrical release, surely only in their wildest dreams could they have envisaged that in 25 years time, their song “Cabin Fever” would be the unofficial anthem of the whole world. The fact that this song comes to mind to those down in the doldrums of prolonged indoor living, decades after its initial release, is a testament to the ongoing popularity of Muppet Treasure Island, and confirms that it can give all of its rivals a run for their money for title of Most Beloved Muppet Film.

After the huge success of The Muppet Christmas Carol with Disney, it made perfect sense for director Brian Henson to do another period piece. After a toss up with King Arthur, it was Robert Louis Stevenson’s novel “Treasure Island” that was gifted with the most outlandish film adaption in cinematic history. The story follows Jim Hawkins (Kevin Bishop), an orphan who works in the Benbow inn alongside his friends, Gonzo the Great and Rizzo the Rat, where they are often regaled by their regular, Captain Billy Bones (Billy Connolly) and his stories of the villainous Pirate, Captain Flint, and his buried treasure. These stories quickly turn into reality when Blind Pew, one of Billy’s old shipmates, arrives at the inn to give Billy Bones “The Black Spot”- a pirate’s death sentence. It turns out Billy Bones had Captain Flint’s treasure map in his possession the whole time, but whilst trying to escape from his old murderous shipmates he suddenly dies, passing down the map to Jim, who seizes the opportunity to follow in his late father’s footsteps and go on a sea adventure. He pitches the treasure quest to the dim-witted Squire Trelawney (Fozzie Bear) who agrees to finance the voyage, which he leaves the enigmatic Long John Silver (Tim Curry), a one-legged ship’s cook, to organise. However, Billy Bones’ dying warning (“Beware the one-legged man”) goes amiss, and no sooner than they have weighed anchor does it become obvious that the voyage has been sabotaged by pirates. Jim and Captain Smollett (Kermit the Frog), must then race against the pirates to find the treasure and escape Treasure Island alive.

Each Muppet theatrical release always had something new to bring to the table, either in terms of storytelling or technical innovation. The Muppet Movie (1979) was obviously a game-changer, accomplishing many puppetry feats such as Kermit riding a bike and Fozzie driving a car; The Great Muppet Caper (1981) had the muppets in high octane action sequences including Miss Piggy’s iconic motorbike chase; The Muppets Take Manhattan (1984) had Kermit and Miss Piggy finally tying the knot; and of course The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992) became one of the greatest film adaptions of all time, with its emotionally poignant yet silly retelling of the great Dickens tale. So what did Muppet Treasure Island have to bring to the table?

The movie doesn’t really cover any fresh ground, and although it had a much bigger budget than other Muppet films, it lacked some of the production value of its immediate predecessor (the recreation of Victorian London in the winter really was breath-taking). There is no major break through in the Muppet puppetry, and in terms of story it isn’t particularly original – not being the first Muppet period piece or the first “Treasure Island” film adaption – but Muppet Treasure Island does take all of the best elements of the previous Muppet film releases (and productions in general) and balances them perfectly in one of the most universally appealing family films of all time. For those who grew up on the works of Jim Henson, Muppet Treasure Island is the last of the truly great Muppet films, with all of its successors not quite managing to hit the ultimate sweet spot that fans have craved ever since.

The secret to Muppet Treasure Island‘s ability to enthral adults and children alike is its superb writing and direction. Both Brian Henson and Jerry Juhl are Muppet veterans, with Juhl providing writing since ‘The Muppet Show’ and Henson being enlisted in the family business since The Muppet Movie. And, judging by the huge box office and critical success of The Muppet Christmas Carol, both know how to do source material justice.

Robert Louis Stevenson’s original book is actually packed with murder and death, which if completely faithfully translated to film would prove to be a frightening watch for very young audiences, but the darker moments of Muppet Treasure Island are quickly balanced-out with comedy, breaking any tension. This isn’t just a benefit for any kids watching, Juhl’s comedy prowess is smart enough or at least absurd enough to leave most adults in hysterics. One such notable moment (of which there are many within the 99-minute runtime) is when Long John Silver fires his pistols to defend himself from his angry mob of pirates: one pirate is left grieving after one of his shipmates is apparently fatally wounded by Silver’s gunfire, to then be gently reminded:

” But Dead Tom’s always been dead – that’s why he’s called Dead Tom!”

Muppet Treasure Island is full of these brief, humorous sketches to keep the story light-hearted, making this Muppet film most akin to ‘The Muppet Show’, which was on the same level as ‘Monty Python’s Flying Circus’ in terms of breakneck surrealist comedy. These brief diversions from the action of the main storyline, such as the ongoing sub-plot of Brooklyn city rats using the voyage of the Hispaniola as a cruise, help to maintain the youngest of audience members’ attention. Whenever there is exposition, a joke is not too far away.

It would be a lie to say that, with this constant onslaught of gags, Muppet Treasure Island doesn’t come across as annoying just as many other children’s films do, with some reliance on long-drawn, unnecessary squealing and noise from the more silly Muppet characters. However, it has the edge over most contemporary family films as so much of its comedy doesn’t spawn from lazy pop culture references. Furthermore, despite it rivalling the laughter rates of comedy juggernauts like Airplane! (1980), the humour of Muppet Treasure Island doesn’t actually detract from the story itself. The straight men of the Muppets entourage such as Kermit and Sam Eagle are brought out for moments of peril, but most of the emotional poignancy is achieved by the human characters, namely Jim Hawkins and Long John Silver.

The balance and interaction between the Muppets and their human co-stars is one of the most important factors for a successful Muppet flick: in its predecessor, The Muppet Christmas Carol, Michael Caine (as Ebenezer Scrooge) was the focal point of the film’s plot, which hadn’t been done before by the Muppets. It’s a major reason that The Muppet Christmas Carol is one of the most popular Christmas movies of all time, achieving an impressive depth and seriousness that does Dickens’ philanthropic message justice. In Muppet Treasure Island, the plot centres around Jim Hawkins, played by child actor Kevin Bishop. Bishop’s lack of experience, having only previously appeared in children’s TV series ‘Grange Hill’, meant he struggled to carry the plot single-handedly, ultimately leaving much of the film’s emotional weight to screen and stage legend Tim Curry in his role as Long John Silver.

It is curious to note that whilst Michael Caine played the part of Ebenezer Scrooge as straight as he would in a Royal Shakespeare Company production, Tim Curry totally hams it up – the man is practically one of the Muppets. Still, even with this larger than life screen presence, he manages to navigate quieter moments with his human co-star, creating a very believable relationship between Hawkins and Silver, making Silver’s treachery all the more shocking and hurtful. Muppet productions, despite their reputation for wackiness, have always had substance, with each of their movies having a moral to their story, and as such Tim Curry’s Silver is a dangerous figure who helps to build the thrilling adventure story at the heart of this film, his flamboyance and camp touches making him the kind of villain who is impossible to not love, a key component of what makes Muppet Treasure Island so memorable and fun. Backed up by the experience gained from the four earlier Muppet movies, Juhl and Henson, along with Curry, knew how to nail the serious drama of “Treasure Island”, and it’s in getting this story right that the film production was able to give The Muppets a free pass to go absolutely nuts.

It truly is the craziness of Muppet Treasure Island that has made it so memorable for the 25 years since its release – there isn’t really a comparison to any other family film that can rival its unrestrained madcap comedy, capable of orchestrating a continuous stream of belly laughs from its audience. The fact that most of the human co-stars were unable to resist joining in with the hilarious Muppet antics is simply delightful.

The best demonstration of Muppet Treasure Island‘s ability to offer cheer is its musical legacy. One of the most underappreciated elements of all Muppet productions is their wealth of original songs, with these films being the most over-looked entries of musical cinema. Not only does the film boast a pre-Pirates of the Caribbean score from Hans Zimmer, but it has some of the most popular songs of the Muppets’ discography – it is very clear that all the stops are pulled out for this film’s musical numbers.

“Upstage Lads! This is my only Number!”

Much of the adoration garnered by Muppet Treasure Island is due to these musical numbers. All are relevant and integral to the plot, and they each help to create the joyful and adventurous mood of the film. They are essential to keeping true to the adventurous spirit of the original novel, being a vehicle for the best moments of Muppet comedy, and for illustrating the warmth and joy of this production. In The Muppet Movie, Kermit expresses his wish to be able to make millions of people happy, and this ambition more than comes true with Muppet Treasure Island, one of the smartest family comedies of the 90s and beyond.

For those who first saw the film released in 1996, we have never forgotten it, but the secret to its ongoing popularity even 25 years on is because it doesn’t disappoint. It never falls short of the expectations of those who return to the film as adults after first seeing it as children. Muppet Treasure Island is just as hilarious and as fun as we all remembered it back in the day, and while there are moments in which it can go over the top, and while it doesn’t necessarily offer anything new to long-standing fans, Muppet Treasure Island has set the bar for where we hope Muppet Productions in the future will eventually reach again.

17/24

Recommended for you: The Muppets Movies Ranked