Jim Henson and the ABCs of Filmmaking

Jim Henson always loved the prospect of innovation. From his early days in public television and advertising to his more ambitious film projects later in life, Henson sought to create worlds that felt larger than the scope of human imagination. His brand of creative motivation that has carried over into our modern blockbuster sphere, but sadly hasn’t retained that same enduring spirit. Few characters have managed to keep such a universally heartwarming quality as The Muppets, or as devoted a cult following as Labyrinth. What was that secret sauce that helped Henson stay indelible as a storyteller even 30 years after his death? 

The craft of his worlds is a clear, surface level reason. Back when Henson first created primitive puppets for the children’s program Sam & Friends for Washington DC public TV station WRC-TV, he had little to no experience in stagecraft. On a dime, he created crude versions of puppets like Kermit the Frog from the scraps of his mother’s green coat, and ping pong balls. This swift rush allowed Henson to find creative solutions to staggering problems. He had a real “necessity is the mother of invention” attitude that got him noticed by advertisers, talk shows, and eventually The Children’s Television Workshop while they were developing a show called Sesame Street.

Even in these low budget frames, one can see Jim Henson honing his craft. Early Sesame Street really only had the budget for the puppets, a few random props, and child actors to react off of the professional performers. Henson, alongside collaborators like Frank Oz, Richard Hunt, and Carroll Spinney, managed to create a rapport with each other and the human actors that made up for technical limitations. An early Sesame Street skit involving Kermit trying to get a young girl to recite the alphabet, only for her to interrupt with shouts of “Cookie Monster!” is a prime example. Kermit’s frustration, the young girl’s giddy excitement over that frustration, and the eventual sweet resolution gives us a simple story that represents the large emotional spectrum of this world. Kermit’s personality and desire to keep the edutainment mission of the show while being vexed by silly antics gives us the anarchic conflict that any Muppet production thrives on, ultimately culminating in a delightful interaction that gives the audience an earnest moment of earned cuteness. All while, the two of them are in front of the plainest blue background.

This simple yet heartfelt interaction evolved into the crucial dynamics of The Muppet Show. The experience on Sesame Street allowed Jim Henson and his team of puppeteers like Oz, Hunt, and Dave Goelz to bring over elements like the sketches, musical numbers and interacting with human guest stars. However, aside from one human guest star per episode, each episode relied more on the back and forth between puppet characters. The backstage shenanigans of The Muppets may seem simple on their face, but adding these realistic dynamics was crucial to having any of the shenanigans work at all in a series like The Muppet Show. Through a basic formula of recurring gags, the world of The Muppet Show’s backstage production becomes more lively and endearing as each episode progresses. 

Even a familiar character like Kermit gained a new layer by the time of The Muppet Show. After appearing in smaller segments of Sesame Street, where his presence was far more cool and collected, The Muppet Show gave Kermit more responsibility as a character. He was running this show, wrangling the zany acts, and trying to keep the celebrity guests from leaving out of fear for their sanity. Kermit became even more of an avatar for Jim Henson as he led the ship of a variety show with a charming, chaotic energy. Kermit’s ringmaster energy became so strong early on that his chemistry with other characters only became more streamlined, and the world better established. This is particularly highlighted in Henson’s chemistry with Frank Oz, which resulted in an underrated comedic duo. Whether it was Kermit trying to explain why a joke didn’t work to Fozzie, or struggling to tamp down the diva attitudes of Miss Piggy, Oz and Henson knew each other so well as performers that these roles (and various others) gave way to a comedy that wasn’t just entertaining; it also gave the backstage antics personality.

After five seasons of The Muppet Show, and two feature films with the characters still at their height of popularity, Jim Henson sought more daring stories. Henson’s directorial debut, The Great Muppet Caper, had taken the characters to grander comedic set pieces with more ambitious styles of puppetry than he had dreamed of on syndicated television. Yet, Henson wanted to create a larger scale world without the assistance of human characters, or even recognizable puppet ones. This led to The Dark Crystal, an ambitious fantasy epic with no human characters, and strange puppet ones that were created full cloth for this daring production. At the time, audiences didn’t flock to The Dark Crystal, and even modern fans of the cult film can agree it’s far less penetrable than Henson’s other works.

Henson decided to find a middle ground for his next major project – one that would serve as a middle ground between the zaniness of The Muppets, and his ambition for larger-scale worlds. Enter Labyrinth, the fantasy musical involving goblins, monsters, and David Bowie. Labyrinth has an anarchic spirit to it in the vein of Alice in Wonderland with its central danger in the form of our lead Sarah’s (Jennifer Connelly) baby brother potentially being lost in the titular puzzling maze’s Goblin kingdom as a goblin forever. There are more stakes here than in Lewis Carroll’s prose, but the nonsense logic remains throughout. Whenever we get a new set piece introducing a new creature, there’s a maddening spirit that feels wholly unique to the individual puppets, with Connelly’s Sarah as the primary anchor to provide some structure to the chaos. Each one of them feels almost like a sketch on a variety show. Almost like… The Muppet Show?

Yes, Labyrinth essentially feels like an elaborate Muppet Show episode extended to feature length. One can even draw a more specific parallel to a season 5 episode of The Muppet Show that’s a production of Alice in Wonderland, with guest star Brooke Shields as Alice, and The Muppets taking on the various fantastical characters. Both that episode and Labyrinth have a principal human figure to guide us through the story, and feature fantastical puppet characters to bring these creatures to life, all with a jovial, goofy tone. Sarah is ostensibly an Alice-style character, mixing wide-eyed curiosity with a determination to leave as a dominant motivation. Labyrinth’s biggest evolution are its more concrete stakes, and involving a second human character in Jareth the Goblin King (David Bowie). Still, Jareth has a similar function as Sarah in his scenes in the Goblin Kingdom, constantly reacting to the antics of the various creatures, but in a far more of a fed up, tired state.

Clearly, Henson designed Labyrinth to appeal to a larger audience after The Dark Crystal failed to do so at its time of release. Jareth and Sarah have functions in the story that puppets could not fill, but also have more dramatic weight than the average Muppet guest star. Bowie’s songs bring a lively energy to the proceedings, and allow for bizarre musical sequences that give way to creative music video style aesthetics. Even the designs of all the creatures are far more appealing than the more alienating designs of Skeksis and Gelflings in The Dark Crystal. Characters like Ludo (Ron Mueck), Hoggle (Brian Henson), and Sir Didymus (Dave Goelz) have a more human or animal-like faces that audiences can attach to, and captivating personalities that resemble those of Muppet characters brought to life by familiar performers like Frank Oz and Dave Goelz working with more advanced puppetry than Henson had ever used before. Yet, it’s not just a cynical recreation of a formula. Henson sought to convey the themes of coming of age and sexual temptation for Sarah through the prism of juxtaposing these childish characters with the intimidating yet inviting presence of Jareth, and succeeded in selling the darker themes underneath cute side characters.

Ultimately, Henson knew that the best stories never forgot to keep characters with an earnest heart at their core, no matter how inhuman their designs may be. His use of technology was mainly used in the pursuit of dazzling audiences with new characters who still had the heartfelt performances behind them. No matter if it’s a suited performer inside of the massive Ludo puppet, or a hand inside of Fozzie Bear, the eye for character and endearing personality still remains key. Most modern filmmakers stop at the mere advancement of technology. Henson at his best kept true to his spirit, while developing the technology to service that spirit, not the other way around, and learned from his mistakes when he lost touch with the reality of the audience. He knew what they loved, but also never forgot what he loved about that process. It’s beautiful, and it’s what filmmakers should want to be.