‘Muppet Babies’ Review: The Hellscape Of The Muppet Baby Mind

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Incredibly, the fantasy monster doesn’t totally incapacitate the Muppet Babies’ fragile young minds. They valiantly press on, and attempt to overcome Beaker’s fears through the magic of song. Their song, “Good Things Happen In The Dark,” delves into what you’d expect.

There is a mild reprieve from all things slime monster, and images of drive-in theaters, chasing fireflies, romantic moon beams and cricket serenades permeate the Muppet’s senses. Fozzie, however, dashes these emotions to the rocks for Beaker. He stupidly mentions how, without the dark, there also would be no “scary, creepy, awful haunted houses.” He then says campfires wouldn’t be as enjoyable, and that, without campfires, there would be no scary ghost stories. This of course sets Beaker off again, his squeals like the starting pistol in a race against the Muppet’s collective madness.

Bunsen and Beaker descend into madness. (Photo: CBS/Claster)

In little time at all, the slime monster makes a triumphant return, relentlessly pursuing his targets as if it’s his sole purpose in the universe. As before, I could just imagine this beast’s jaws clamping down on Beaker, gnashing and gnawing him to a bloody pulp as he squeals one last squeal before his aghast face is unrecognizable.

These would certainly be Beaker’s fears, if we were to extract them into real-life terms. Beaker’s symbolic intestines would be dangling from the teeth of his own mental demons. It’s almost perfectly symbolic of the already advancing decline of his youthful innocence and eventual decay.

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Almost out of nowhere, Nanny interrupts their slime monster fantasies. She admits that, as a child, she too was afraid of the dark. She says she wore a sleep mask during the day to get over her own fears. This functions as a confession of Nanny’s own fragile mind, as well as practical advice.

Fozzie’s sincerity makes his inadequacy seem all the more pathetic. (Photo: CBS/Claster)

But how to get Beaker to finally go to sleep? Sleeping pills? Hypnosis? What?

When the idea of counting sheep is mentioned, Fozzie’s idiocy adds hurdles yet again, as he says, “I always count baby ducks hopping over chili dogs into a bowl of tapioca and bumble bees!” This nightmarish imagery is powerful, and is very much an open window into Fozzie’s vast yet vacuous mind (in the realm of psychology, this type of speech might be called “word salad,”potentially indicative of advanced schizophrenia). Incredibly, Beaker is able to overcome Fozzie’s stifling inanity, and actually thwarts the slime monster with the power of his imagination.

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In the end, though, one wonders if it isn’t too little, too late. Beaker is undoubtedly forever scarred by the experience, as such crippling fears never seem to totally go away. We can only hope Beaker’s fears have been allayed forever, because that slime monster has one hell of an appetite, and there are so many Muppets on the menu!