R-rated movies featuring Jim Henson-style puppets–as opposed to realistic monster puppets or the murderous toys of Puppet Master–are so far and few between that when the first trailers for The Happytime Murders hit, every cinephile’s immediate go-to reference was Peter Jackson’s 1989 Meet the Feebles, a $750,000 gross-out parody of the Muppets that had been a commercial flop at the time, but has since recouped due to the director’s subsequent fame. The only other obvious comparison is to the Sesame Street spoof Avenue Q, the stage musical with 2,534 Broadway performances that has inexplicably never been made into a movie. It’s possible fear of legal action keeps many from trying; in the case of Happytime, it’s somewhat immunized by being a Brian Henson film from the adult wing of the Henson company itself, though that didn’t prevent a (dismissed) lawsuit from Sesame Workshop over a tagline (“No Sesame. All Street.”) specifically designed to distinguish the two properties.
As it turns out, The Happytime Murders isn’t much like Meet the Feebles or Avenue Q, lacking the extreme gross-outs of the former and the poignancy of the latter; its grossest gag has already been revealed in the trailer. Instead, it’s more like a Shane Black buddy-cop movie that just happens to have puppets in it. The screenplay by Todd Berger (It’s A Disaster) could easily have been written for an all-human cast, with minor tweaks, and while the banter is sharp and the mystery element decent, it could have stood to get even weirder than it actually does. For all the marketing that depicts the movie as being outrageous, it’s no more so than something like The Nice Guys.
We’re presented with a version of Los Angeles where puppets live as second-class citizens, and one named Phil Philips (Bill Barretta) is a P.I., having previously been both the first puppet police officer and the last, after a shooting-gone-wrong cost him his badge and led to a law being passed forbidding more like him. His brother Larry (Victor Yerrid) is an actor on the popular “integrated” sitcom The Happytime Gang, which is about to go into syndication for a sweet payday to all involved. Perhaps that’s why the actors are being murdered, one by one, and all conveniently when Phil happens to be nearby.
Phil’s brought on the case as a consultant, which means reteaming with former partner Connie Edwards (Melissa McCarthy), who hates him for various reasons, some of which involve straight-up bigotry. As they investigate strip clubs, drug dens, beachfronts and all the most scenic locations L.A. has to offer, the hatred turns to grudging respect as the pair survive danger and come to terms with their own weaknesses. It’s not as witty as Kiss Kiss Bang Bang or The Nice Guys, bit those are plainly the inspiration. And you can easily be “not as witty” and still be pretty darn funny, as this is. (Assuming you find sudden non-sequitur asides like “My wife’s dead” funny in context, which I do.)
Where it falls short is in really going into the differences in puppet culture. The one key quirk we’re given is that they’re easily addicted to sugar, and create super-strains that would kill a human with instant diabetes. But it’s also hinted that they have a natural proclivity to sing and dance that has to be actively avoided, in the sort of narrative planting you’d think would pay off at some point, but doesn’t. We might also wonder if there’s a hierarchy between humanoid and animaloid puppets, but that’s not explored either. Too many asides go for a solitary one-off gag, where an actual Shane Black script might have had every single one come into play again later when you least expect. Like Black, however, Brian Henson clearly loves L.A., and makes it look like a beautiful place to be despite the copious puppet-killings.
As for McCarthy, well, it’s nice to see her stick to a script and really nail dialogue written for her. As much as I enjoy the comedies that her husband directs, she does seem to mostly be free-forming in them half the time, and while that’s funny in a one-woman show kind of way, it neglects the fact that she can deliver written lines with relish when she has to. It’s no coincidence that some of her best work has been in collaboration with Paul Feig, and it feels here like forcing her to use what she’s been given forces more creativity from the performance. And her hot tub fight scene with puppet Phil would make Bela Lugosi and Ed Wood proud (in a good way).
Ignore the hype that this is some sort of unprecedented or X-rated concept, and the low-key action comedy really comes together. If you were hoping to see cloth genitalia, vomiting, STDs, bathroom humor and gory mass-murder, however, Meet the Feebles is the one you want.
