Beaker's Dozen: Ranking the Muppet Movies (6-1)

As I can't seem to refocus my mind to work on the next part of the Scooby Doo story until I finish out the Muppet list, here is the second half.

 

 

6. The Muppets (2011):

The 5^th and 6^th place spots were REALLY close for me. But after consulting my wife (who was moved to tears by the end of The Muppets) we both agreed that this movie still belonged in the 6^th spot.

A couple of things bugged me about the premise of this movie, which I can overlook for the purpose of evaluation but I still want to point out. The Muppets have gone their separate ways and it becomes a bit of a ‘we’re getting the band back together’ formula. Now I realize the Muppets have less continuity than the Zelda franchise; for example. Gonzo has gone on record saying that he was grateful to have learned that he was an alien but then he ran into Frank Oz who reminded him that Muppets From Space was “just a movie”. (Fozzie: But Gonzo never misses a chance to fire himself out of a canon! Hey! Wakka Wakka!) Be that as it may, this movie treats the gang as if they haven’t seen each other since they took Manhattan. They’ve been together! I have the DVD’s including Letters to Santa!

Okay second issue, they’re putting on a show to save the Muppet Theater from a greedy villain. Um, didn’t we just do this in It’s a Very Merry Muppet Christmas Movie?

With that out of the way, the movie is very funny. The chaos of the old Muppet Show is back, albeit tempered down a bit. It’s a lot of fun to see the theater recreated and to finally see the backstage area from the second floor perspective. The script was clearly written out of love for the Muppets, and it pays tribute to the great Jim Henson.

Now Walter, who makes up a bulk of the story, initially felt pointless to me. I had the same complaints many others had about the usurping of Robin, as well as the fact that sometimes the script refers to him as Gary’s brother and sometimes as his friend. (One question I really don’t want answered, did human parents procreate Walter?) But where Walter’s purpose starts to come through here is in his outsider’s view on the Muppets. Gonzo will always be the stunt artist without really thinking about the consequences and Fozzie will always tell the jokes he finds funny without asking himself if an audience will respond favorably. Walter serves as the voice of reason that Kermit was too stressed, Robin too young, and Scooter too people-pleasing to have. Walter would never have worked in the eighties, but there’s a place for him now.

Jason Segel. He clearly loves the Muppets enough to have worked so hard co-writing a script for them. But all the problems of the movie can really be traced back to him (and co-writer Nicholas Stoller). As much love as Segel has for the Muppets, I don’t think he really understands them. With the exception of Miss Piggy, who actually demonstrates some multilayered-ness to her performance, the Muppets are all trapped playing the most simplistic versions of themselves. And then there’s the subplot with Amy Adams that clutters up a third of the movie and never leads to any sort of payoff (except for Segel I guess, who wanted to work with Amy Adams).


5. The Great Muppet Caper (1981):


So the 5th place spot was neck and neck between a movie that paid tribute to Jim Henson and one that actually had him in the director's chair. The latter wound up being the trump card.

There are so many wonderful sequences in this movie. The opening number has to be the most energetic fourth wall breaking song since the climax of Blazing Saddles. The bicycle scene is a thing of understated beauty. There's Beauregard's driving, John Cleese's bewilderment, Oscar the Grouch's abrupt cameo, and a wonderful MGM homage with "The First Time it Happens".

Together Jim and Frank are a golden comedic duo whose Bert/Ernie, Kermit/Fozzie, and Swedish Chef/his own hands are worthy of comparison to the legendary comedic duos of Hollywood's black and white era. But the chemistry usually falls into a sometimes awkward territory whenever Kermit and Piggy try to convey romantic feelings; the big exception being this movie. Piggy's less favorable qualities are toned down in The Great Muppet Caper allowing her to actually have a charm that she ordinarily only pretends to have. As a result, I find myself rooting for the relationship in way I'm more often indifferent to.

Of course Kermit also rarely has to compete for her attention, and the love triangle with Charles Grodin really works much better than I imagine it ever looked like it was going to on paper. Grodin is spot on with the level of silliness he's required to play his admitted villain yet still demonstrating a sophisticated degree of restraint when the plot requires it. His character of Nicky is attracted to Miss Piggy, and Grodin throws every nuance of infatuation, lust and regret into the way he looks at her. You really can accept that Nicky is falling for a foam and felt sow operated under the floor by a man speaking in a falsetto voice. It's a brilliantly surreal performance.

There's only one real problem with this movie, but unfortunately it's a big one. The plot is lifeless. It's not to say that it doesn't work, but it only serves as a framework for the individual sequences that fly beautifully; i.e. the sum of the parts are greater than the whole. And some of those parts suffer in contrast. The Esther Williams parody is delightful on its own, but in context it feels more like an obstacle than a contribution. The Muppets playing baseball with the Baseball Diamond should have been funny, but it never reaches the energy needed to serve as a climax.

Worst of all, nothing ever really feels like it's at stake in this movie. Even the plot of Muppets From Space had a destination that mattered (despite it being the wrong destination). I think it's safe to say that Jim Henson was a genius when it came to short films and sketches, but he hadn't quite mastered the recipe of a ninety minute storyline. But still, that bicycle scene...


4. Muppets Treasure Island (1996):


You know how the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy (plus) presents pirates as heroic rebels? Well screw that! THESE are pirates, and they're in a freaking Muppet movie! They're cutthroat, vengeful and dishonest. Even if they sing and dance they're still dangerous.

I've seen this movie at least twenty times and my jaw still drops at that opening number; "Shiver my Timbers" is probably the only Muppet song with the word 'murder' in the lyrics. It starts in a dark place with gunfire and the death of Billy Connolly before finally reassuring us that this is in fact a Muppet movie with Kermit and friends, but that disconcerting feeling stays with us in the form of Tim Curry's Long John Silver.

Johnny Depp never deserved an academy award nomination for playing a pirate, no matter how likeable he was. Tim Curry deserved one for this performance. His Long John is charismatic, seductive, ruthless and surprisingly vulnerable. No matter how funny he is, the serpent inside is lurking just beneath the surface. When I saw this movie in the theater I had to marvel at just how dark the humor was willing to go, exemplified by Long John's manipulation of Sam the Eagle into being cast off in a rowboat in the middle of the ocean. There was a child in the theater who turned to his mom and asked "Did he die?" That's how good Tim Curry is, you can believe him to be capable of murdering a beloved Muppet.

And let's not forget the sophisticated acting of fifteen year old (looking like he's eleven) Kevin Bishop. His interactions with Gonzo and Rizzo are so genuine, I was convinced Bishop was actually Jim Henson's youngest child. And once he connects with Long John, every facial expression conveys that building of trust and pain of betrayal. Without really spelling it out, Bishop's Jim Hawkins is ultimately searching for that father figure and never quite finding it, even in Kermit's Captain Smollett. Instead what he gets from Smollett is the affirmation that he's come of age and has become his own father figure, which is an impressively deep theme.

There's not a problem with this movie, just a bit of an oddity in the fact that the Muppets almost get swallowed up in their own movie by the emotions of the human cast. The movie could conceivably have been titled Treasure Island (by the way with Muppets). They essentially serve as the comic relief to a story that could have felt a smidge too heavy handed for young kids. But the bottom line is, when the movie isn't being ominously true to its source material it really is a lot of fun to go sailing for adventure on the big blue wet thing.


3. Muppets Most Wanted (2014):


I was a bit surprised myself that this movie beat out Treasure Island for the number 3 spot. I'll explain why in a bit, but let me start by saying how funny this movie is. The jokes in The Muppets sometimes worked, and sometimes didn't, but Nicholas Stoller is in the zone here. The funny bits come fast and in bulk, almost on the level of the Abrahams-Zucker classics.

Some critics complained that the plot didn't come together with any coherency, but in truth it does just without taking the time to let you realize it. There's a lot going on in this movie and it may take a few tries to realize how carefully crafted it really is. My wife and I recommend the extended Blu-ray version if for no other reason than for the greatest obvious fourth wall joke ever.

Many of our classic characters have their personalities returned to them even if they still don't quite get the attention they deserve (Rowlf, Scooter, Sweetums). Sam the Eagle actually gets his own subplot with breakout performer Ty Burrell, and that's wonderful to see considering how often his character is neglected in other Muppet projects. Walter's voice of reason is also put to good use here, proving that the new guy has some welcomed staying power.

But let's talk about Constantine, who proves to be the MVP of this particular story arc. To work plot-wise all Constantine really had to do was not be Kermit, but luckily the production team doesn't stop there with him. His character is 'fleshed' out into a full-fledged villain. His failures at impersonating Kermit are hilarious, but he really comes to life when you see how much damage he's capable and willing to cause.

I'm not talking about explosions (because they're Muppets, they can withstand having pianos dropped on them) or theft of the crown jewels (because who cares?) but the psychological damage he's in a position to wreak on Kermit's blindly trusting compatriots. Miss Piggy finds herself in the most dangerous wake of it, and watching the movie for the first time I found myself really concerned for just how hurt she had the potential of being. I think at one point I even muttered "You son of a bitch" in the theater.

But it works, because like so many of the great Muppet movies, this one is about Kermit; who and what he is and isn't. While Tina Fey's Gulag guard Nadya doesn't quite develop the way you're hoping, her aggressive love of Kermit serves as a testament to the cynical adult world that still hopes for purity and innocence. And Kermit's ability to create a show out of the other Gulag's prisoners feels heroic.

My wife and I aren't the biggest Ricky Gervais fans, but he's great in his role as Dominic Badguy, the sympathetic criminal just sadly wanting recognition for his skillset. I imagine if Constantine had never been a part of the picture Kermit might have been persuaded to give Dominic a shot at the theater spotlight.

But here's why Muppets Most Wanted is in the number 3 spot. It feels like something happens in this movie that will have an affect on the Muppets from here on out in regards to Kermit and Piggy's rocky relationship. Piggy has pursued Kermit for decades, demanding he return her affections. In this movie she finally faces the sense of getting what she thinks she wants, and the conflict she feels about it causes her to grow. For the first time she seems like she's happy the way things are. And Kermit, as much as he waffles about non-work related feelings, suddenly finds himself possessive of Piggy in a way that is both exciting and unexpected.

And it all comes to a head when Kermit slaps Constantine for what he's done. Repeat, Kermit the Frog resorts to violence, and no part of me blames him. Now that's the work of a villain.


2. It's a Very Merry Muppet Christmas Movie (2002):


As my wife says, "I feel like Jim is back."

Following Jim Henson's death we saw Kermit as Bob Cratchit, Kermit as Captain Smollett, and Kermit as a supporting player in a Gonzo movie. This was the first movie in eighteen years with Kermit as himself front and center of a Kermit centered movie, albeit a TV movie. Steve Whitmire knocks it out of the park.

Whitmire has become confident enough to take some real acting risks with Kermit. The emotions are intensified in Kirk Thatcher's wonderful movie. Kermit isn't just happy, he's ecstatic. He's not just angry, he's furious. He's not just sad, he's in despair.

In fact he's as close to suicidal as a Muppet is ever going to get. Being a rewrite of It's a Wonderful Life, writers Tom Martin and Jim Lewis neatly sidestep the pertinent plot point by having Kermit deliver an "I wish I'd never been born" rant, but the subtext is there and it's powerful to see the frog wrestle with it.

Pushing Kermit to the brink of his soul is Rachel Bitterman, played with short-fused delight by Joan Cusack who may very well have ad-libbed most of her performance. Bitterman may be a small woman in a tall body with a cartoonish glee about causing the Muppets misery, but when she pushes the knife into Kermit's heart she does it with so much conviction you almost start to agree with her. It's an electrifying scene. And this movie may be the hardest Kermit has ever had to work for a happy ending.

But on his side is Daniel, his guardian angel, played with a wellspring of sincerity by David Arquette. Daniel couldn't be more frightened, echoing Kermit's own insecurities about being in over his head, but like Kermit, Daniel has a strong sense of what is right even when there's no discernible pathway in that direction. It's in their collective ineffectualness and seeming lack of accomplishment that the magic bond between the Muppets and the Christmas season finds its voice.

It's a Very Merry Muppet Christmas Movie also marks the feature debut of Muppeteer Eric Jacobson, whose Fozzie is admittedly still finding his footing. Jacobson's Piggy on the other hand comes out swinging, and the chemistry between the pig and the frog is on a whole new level. To put it bluntly, Frank Oz, for all of his brilliance as a Muppeteer, seemed afraid of Miss Piggy's feminine side, while Eric Jacobson embraces it. The karate is still there, but she doesn't resort to it as a shield for her own emotions anymore. Piggy has always carried pain with her, but this movie is where she really starts to own it instead of projecting it. The journey is fascinating to watch unfold.


1. The Muppet Movie (1979):


Was there ever going to be another option?

It's not a question of if the original is the insurmountable apex of Muppet cinema, but why. Let's start with Austin Pendleton, who played the well-meaning Muppet of a man Max. Pendleton admitted that the filming of the movie was truly unpleasant. Jim Frawley was a talented director but he wasn't part of the Muppet family, and he evidently didn't want to direct the movie. When you also factor in the puppetry techniques that were being developed for this movie hadn't been tried before, the mood on the set must have been really stressful. Jim Henson spent an entire day in a 50 gallon drum submerged in a swamp.

But none of that shows up in the final product. The road trip plot come off as nothing short of magical as the familiar TV characters demonstrate a level of wisdom and soul (and feet) that they hadn't before. This movie changed the Muppets forever, demonstrating that they were larger than television would allow them to be; in essence, this was the shedding of a skin. From the single most emotional banjo riff to the final shot of the family portrait, this movie is about reaching for the stars and surprising yourself when you find them in your hand.

And the songs. My God. Have you ever just read the lyrics to The Rainbow Connection without pretending your arm is being controlled by a rod? It's ambiguously poetic. Each song packs a punch as strongly as the best of Disney's music library. And then there's Gonzo's song, the one that I sang at my mother's funeral because nothing else would suffice. I can't think of another soundtrack that succeeds at being so deeply philosophical.

The Muppets are, and always will be, more human than human; more discerning of what's really important; more guiding of moral principles than just about anything one's inner child can wrap its developing mind around. Nowhere is this more fully realized than the original 1979 triumph.

"De flim is okeydokey!" -a true artist

Beaker's Dozen: Ranking the Muppet Movies (12-7)

I don't know what it is about the Muppets, but somehow they tap into something deeply human (for better or worse). Between the perpetual promise of being able to accomplish anything as long as we all work together, and the looming threat of being blown up or eaten at any moment just to entertain the audience who manage to react to things backstage, the Muppets just seem to stand right on that sweet spot between innocent reassurance and nightmarish absurdity. I sometimes wonder if Wizards of the Coast ever considered designing a campaign world on Koozebane, teetering dangerously over the Cliffs of Terry Gilliam.

I thought it might make for a fun blog to list the Muppet catalog in order of what I think the least best to most best movies are. After all, I don't believe the Muppets and close relatives have ever had a bad movie (despite what my characteristically back-biting criticism might otherwise suggest), but they have had a few mediocre entries. In fact, let's look at one right now.


12. The Muppets' Wizard of Oz (2005):


The first problem with this movie should be immediately apparent: The Wizard of Oz never needed to be retold with Muppets. There's a huge difference between the Muppets putting on their version of Robin Hood on an episode of The Muppet Show and devoting a whole hour and a half slot to retell a familiar story. On top of that, unlike A Christmas Carol, there is a definitive version of Oz which casts a shadow over everything else Oz related, meaning you really have to push the boat out to get anyone to see you as more than a Judy Garland knockoff. The Muppets don't pull it off.

Ashanti is less engaging as Dorothy than Diana Ross was, to say nothing of her ability to play off the Muppets. Incidentally Hilary Duff was a finalist for that role and she was born to play opposite Kermit. As for the Muppets themselves, they really seem forced into their roles (Fozzie the Lion?) all supporting the reality that this simply wasn't the story to Muppetize.

Probably the biggest issue I have with this movie is how little of an impression it left on me. There were a few good jokes scattered around, and like I say, the movie isn't bad but it's not good either. The Muppets deserve better. It's also a sad waste of David Alan Grier.


11. Muppets From Space (1999):


Which is worse, a movie that leaves a bad impression or one that leaves no impression? While I'm unwilling to commit entirely to my answer I'm going to give credit to the bad impression for allegedly taking some kind of a risk even if it doesn't pay off.

First off, let me stick my neck out and suggest that the first two thirds of this movie is actually pretty entertaining, even if it's still not on par with the rest of the Muppet library. I love Gonzo, and being the misfit in a world of misfits his character has always demonstrated a poignant hyperactive sadness that I'll always admire him for. The 1990's was the decade of Gonzo. After the deaths of Jim Henson and Richard Hunt, as well as Frank Oz's determined exit from the troupe, Dave Goelz's alter ego was the perfect choice to assume the keystone position in the Muppets.

But in addition to the third act slowing down way too much in pace, the movie makes a fatal mistake. Gonzo is a weirdo, plain and simple; a whatever, an ambiguity, a metaphor for that part of us all that doesn't and will never fit in. He's not an alien with his people being 'out there'. As nice as it is to see Gonzo take center stage, the revelation of his identity is (dare I say) controversial.

There was an earlier draft of the script where the aliens mistook Gonzo as being one of them, which I imagine would have resulted in a heartfelt acceptance that it's okay to be different as long as you realize that when people care about you those feelings really matter. Why in the hell didn't they go with that ending?

And, oh yeah, couldn't they bother to give us a few original songs?


10. The Muppets Take Manhattan (1984):


I don't think anyone is going to debate me on those first two selections, but I expect from here on out I might be ruffling a few feathers. I don't really know what's going on here. Are the Muppets making a movie about this story? Is this an alternate timeline where they went to college together? Did Kermit and Piggy get married after the audience vanished?

Well let's forget about meta-context and focus on the movie as a stand alone (and forget that this territory was already covered brilliantly in The Muppet Movie). First off, Jim Henson's acting is on a whole new level in this movie. Rizzo and his rat posse have a pretty innovative kitchen sequence (needless, but innovative). There's also some really dramatic moments when the indifference of reality seeps into the Muppets' world. And I can't think of a greater emotional sucker punch in Muppet history than seeing Kermit get hit by a taxi.

On the downside, the Muppets spend way too much of the movie apart from each other. Sure, they each get their mini-adventure (about 45 seconds worth) but did we really have to make room in the running time for that damnable Muppet Babies song? For the record, I don't care how well the cartoon drills in the lesson of using one's imagination, I will NEVER respect the concept of Muppet Babies.

But the bottom line, even as a kid I didn't understand what I was supposed to be feeling at the end of the movie. I know for the sake of comedy you make allowances for questionable traits like Miss Piggy's violent streak and the fact that she resorts to stalking in this movie, but when it came to the fake/real/wtf wedding ceremony I didn't get that Kermit was receiving a happy ending. He seemed more like he was being pressured into the marriage. Just, not my favorite.


9. Sesame Street Presents Follow That Bird (1985):


If you're wondering where Elmo in Grouchland is, one: I haven't seen it, two: I'm not GOING to see it, three: my wife has and she doesn't object to me leaving it off the list.

With that out of the way, not only does this movie have a charm to it, but it also serves as a bit of a time capsule in Sesame Street history with all of the human veterans and Muppeteers appearing, save for the late Will Lee (aka Mr. Hooper) and 'David' actor Northern Calloway, who's absence from the film is unexplained.

So any flaws to gripe about? No not really. The movie is sweet, funny and entertaining, the songs are all memorable, and even Cookie Monster's destructiveness seems to be fixable. So why isn't this higher on the list then? Target audience I guess. This is a kid's movie, whereas the Muppets always aim for family audiences. Being able to appeal to multiple generations of viewers is an impressive feat, and certainly one worthy of a higher standard. But Follow That Bird is what it unapologetically is, and it deserves an inclusion to the ladybug picnic.


8. The Muppets Christmas Carol (1992):


Jim Henson died in 1990 (on my last day of high school) throwing the future of the Muppets into question. The decision to continue on without the Muppet godfather had to be an uncomfortable one. Also with the passing of Richard Hunt, there were a few key Muppets (Rowlf, Scooter, Janice) who became understandably silent for quite a while, while Waldorf and Statler proved that even the deaths of their Muppeteers wouldn't keep them quiet. But nowhere was the loss of loved ones more felt than in Steve Whitmire's Kermit.

The frog didn't have the luxury of silence, and even though Whitmire proved his talent and versatility as Wembley on Fraggle Rock, there was no way he couldn't have felt the eyes of the world on every mannerism and syllable. So it made sense to have Kermit's first post-Henson outing be as a frog actor playing a supporting character in a familiar story.

So unlike Wizard of Oz, A Christmas Carol was a good idea. But the movie also had a self-consciousness to it. A lot of the jokes feel like they're trying to work, and nearly succeed, but the ordinarily larger-than-life personalities of the Muppets are clearly using the Dickens plot not only as a vessel but as a bit of an awkward shield.

That is, except for Gonzo and Rizzo. David Goelz really stepped up to the plate when he was needed, and Steve Whitmire is using Rizzo to find his courage for this movie. I don't think those two characters would ever have been paired together if it weren't out of necessity, but the chemistry proved golden.

Ultimately it falls to Michael Caine to carry the film. In the past, I've been more critical of his performance than I should have been. Caine is a gifted actor, but I never got the sense that his internal barometer was in tune with the Muppets the way John Cleese's or Carol Burnette's were. According to imdb, Scrooge opposite the Muppets was Caine's most treasured role, so he may have been intentionally playing the character as straight as possible amidst Muppet mayhem. To me it still feels like he's in a different movie than the rest of the characters. Probably there was no way for this movie to not be uncomfortable, all things considered.


7. The Dark Crystal/Labyrinth (1982/1986):


It's a cheat putting these movies together, but taken separately neither one would have shown up on the list at all. Both movies have strengths and weaknesses, but they also both take some serious risks which gives their collective placement at number seven justification.

Starting with The Dark Crystal, you can tell this was Jim's pet project and he really believes in the film. The creature design really is wonderful, and one can't deny the impact Brian Froud had on Jim Henson's Creature Shop. The big problem here is, while the concepts of The Dark Crystal are interesting, the characters are not. Even as a child, I found myself rooting for the Skeksis Chamberlain over anyone else, simply because he showed the most personality in the movie. Henson wanted to create a horrific world for children, and to a point he did (that coral reef inspired woodland scene still creeps me out) but he never succeeded at engaging me with his world. The Dark Crystal was a beautifully constructed museum of the unusual where every exhibit was inaccessible. I can respect it, but I don't care about it. Hell, earlier when I mentioned sliding down the Cliffs of Terry Gilliam, I think that happened here.

So instead let's turn to Terry Jones, who had some early influence on Labyrinth even if my online information suggests things went a different direction. Labyrinth is accessible to me. It's open and inviting, there's a soundtrack, some humor. I also have a clear view of the things that don't work about the movie. Hoggle works. Ludo works. Sir Didymus does not (what is the point of his character?). The door knockers and the Helping Hands are cool. The Fireys just feel too Muppet Showy to ever seem threatening. The labyrinth itself is awesome except for the Bog of Eternal Stench which Jim should have been ashamed of. The masquerade scene was flawless. The story was great. The dialogue needed some help. I wouldn't be opposed to seeing this movie remade.

A lot of people love the movie and love Jennifer Connelly. I love the movie and do not love Jennifer Connelly. She's simply not convincing in this role, In fact, she comes dangerously close to pre-empting Kristen Stewart. I don't think she says a single line with any conviction. Connelly has had better performances since then, but in Labyrinth she's the weakest link. David Bowie on the other hand is great in his role. Maybe a little too great. The climax is where the problem with his casting shows the most. Yeah, Connelly isn't giving him anything to work off of; she says her line "You have no power over me" as if she got a first round trivia question correct. She needed to BE the stronger character and she wasn't. But failing that, Bowie needed to demonstrate that his character was capable of being weaker than her, which he doesn't. When she rejected him he needed to have a childish tantrum about it, instead of the "Ah well, I guess I'll go do that video shoot with Mick Jagger" shrugging off of the whole ordeal.

So The Dark Crystal succeeds and never makes me love it. Labyrinth fails and I love it dearly. That's why these two movies are placed together at the number seven spot.

Scooby Doo's Unsolved Mystery ~Part Two: Velma's Scrapbook

Click here for the Table of Contents for Scooby Doo's Unsolved Mystery.

Part Two

After my interview with Shaggy, I was feeling really enthusiastic about doing a piece on Mystery Inc. but my editor was being less than supportive, so for a few months the transcript stayed untouched on my laptop. It wasn't until I was assigned to cover the opening of The Casey Kasem Experience at the Radio History Museum that I noticed my flight had a layover in the city where Velma Dinkley's bookshop was located. My curiosity got the better of me and I shelled out the $50 fee to take an earlier flight so I'd have time to drop by.

The street on which the bookshop was located had a distinct village feel to it, as if it was geared towards a very specific kind of tourism. The streetlights were shaped like oil lanterns and the buildings had been constructed in a Colonial American style. There was also a faint smell of 'horse' in the air, suggesting the possibility of a carriage tour were I to arrive at a different time. Right now the street was empty. It was just me and my hope of uncovering the lost Mystery Inc. mystery.

I stepped into the bookshop, immediately trying to think of an adjective other than 'quaint' because it's clichéd and I never actually figured out what 'quaint' means in the context. Old-timey? Traditional? Clearly inspired by artist depictions of Edgar Allen Poe's study maybe?

From the moment I bumped the overhead bell with the door frame I felt like I was being taken back to a more innocent yet enlightened time; where books were portals to knowledge and revered as such. The darkly painted wood on the inside of the shop managed to convey not a sense of dismalness, but an invitational silence.

I crept past the front end shelves, arranged to resemble a tiny library with fiction organized on the shelves to the left and non-fiction to the right, and a box on the floor full of Ben Ravencroft books marked 'Free. Please take one." Why I crept, I don't know. It just felt natural given the atmosphere.

The back of the shop was a much more open space, as if it was meant to be a reading/meeting area with the proprietor's work station overseeing the half-room like a hotel desk clerk. A few masks hung on the wall behind the desk; ghoulish things. I recognized them by sight, even if the names of said specters weren't coming to me.

I was scanning the station for a second bell to ring when I realized there was a large figure standing behind me.

I turned.

And I had a single moment permanently etched into my brain.

It was a wax figure in a glass case, I get that. But it was a realistic one, and in that moment I could only process those large green-skinned hands reaching for me. My mind supplied the low moaning that I would have attested to under oath was coming from this monster. "Greebus!" I called out as stumbled backwards over my own feet.

And with that, Velma was behind her desk, jovially snickering at my outburst.

"I see you've met Mr. Carswell," came the cheerful yet sly voice behind me. I jerked my head to see where it had come from. Velma Dinkley. Same turtleneck. Same glasses. Same blatant disregard towards the ability of others to have a heart attack.

"I wasn't expecting that," I said trying to regain my composure.

"I probably need a bigger sign out front mentioning that he's in here," she laughed. "He gets some interesting reactions. 'Greebus' is a new one."

"Yeah, I'm not sure where that even came from."

"It happens to the best of us." Velma slipped around the counter to admire her wax centerpiece which stood twice as tall as her.

"Mr. Carswell isn't actually inside there is he?" I asked only half-jokingly.

"It's a wax replica. One of our fans made this for a convention and then donated it to the shop. The original costume was four inches shorter but the details are surprisingly accurate."

"Indeed," I said while consciously trying to keep 'greebus' from downloading into my mental lexicon.

"Now these guys back here," she pointed to the pair of masks mounted on the wall behind the her, "they're the real things. The Strawberry Phantom and the Snow Beast. And the glass casing on the counter contains the actual cat medallion Dr. Bell used to hypnotize Daphne's aunt." Velma smiled proudly. "I've also got Zombie Cleopatra in the back, but I've never felt right about hanging her up."

"Don't you ever feel a little uncomfortable with them staring at you while you work?"

She laughed. "They're just masks. I've actually got a lead on the Chocolate Phantom mask. I would love to get all three of them together again."

I wasn't sure how to respond, kind of getting lost in this bizarre reality that I was standing next to THE Velma Dinkley in all of her knee high stocking glory. I wondered what kind of impression she had made on the various criminals her ever-analytical brain had put in prison. She came across as warm, friendly, and easy to underestimate. But listening to the confidence in her soft voice for longer than ten seconds left me feeling like she was fully in control, kind of the early adult version of Miss Marple.

"So which of our mysteries did you want to ask me about?" Velma asked me, with her eye's twinkle visible through her very thick glass lenses.

"Mysteries?" I repeated, wondering just how transparent I was.

"You've never been in here before," she explained, reading my mind, "but you barely looked at the books. So you're not browsing. You're here for a reason. Something you didn't want to call ahead for."

Well, my cover story was irrelevant now, and frankly I wasn't too disappointed. "The Spooky Soothsayer."

She smiled and disappeared behind the counter, returning a second later with a scrapbook. "No mystery there."

"Shaggy said you never unmasked the culprit," I said.

"This is true," Velma admitted. "We didn't need to. It was obvious."

"Velma obvious, or bystander obvious?" My flattery got a giggle out of her.

She sat down on one of the sofas in the center of the room and patted the cushion beside her, indicating I should join her there. I took one last defiant glance at Mr. Carswell before accepting half of the open scrapbook in my lap.


A newspaper article showing a massive structure surrounded by woods

"This was the home of C.S. Barley, a carnival emcee and master of hoaxes. He made an impressive living by convincing spectators of such nonsense like charms, fortune telling, and mythical creatures. When he retired, he turned his home into a museum displaying the collection of oddities he'd accumulated throughout his life. And this...

Another newspaper article showing a thick white coffin

"was the coffin he used to have displayed in his front room. Barley would wait in the coffin while the tour groups filed in and looked around at the various minor trinkets. Then when he was certain they were not expecting it, he'd pop out of the coffin to give them a premature startle. Always the showman."

"So, is he actually dead now?"

"Yes. At the age of seventy-three."

"Was he buried in the same coffin?"

"No, but let's not get too far ahead."

A magazine photo of an attractive dark haired woman

"This is Lindsey Channing, AKA The Angel Swan, an upcoming trapeze artist. She was nineteen when she and Barley got married. He was seventy-one. When he died, Lindsey's family went into an extensive court battle over her inheritance with Barley's former wives. It took twelve years for that to get sorted out."

"Did you guys meet her?"

"How did you know?"

"Shaggy said there was a glamazon in the museum."

"We happened to show up the night Lindsey was signing over what was left of the house to the city."

"Was that a coincidence?"

"Part of mystery solving is figuring out when a coincidence is and when it isn't. We were at a paranormal convention when we first heard about the existence of Barley's museum, and that Lindsey was about to sell it off. Freddy made a special trip out there so we could check it out before the place closed forever, and that's when we encountered...

A hand-drawn sketch of a long armed, ghastly figure in a cloak with glowing eyes

"the Spooky Soothsayer."

"Who drew this?"

"Scooby did. He's a dog of many talents."

"Was the Soothsayer supposed to be the ghost of C.S. Barley?"

"That was one thing that never really made much sense. Usually the fake ghosts at least try to tap into some sort of legend about the place they haunt. This one just seemed sort of generic. In fact, Shaggy was the one who named him the Spooky Soothsayer. You could just as easily have called him the Blue Banshee."

"So the Soothsayer was trying to scare people away from...what?"

"We never found that out either. Money. Jewels. Something valuable."

"And yet you knew who it was?"

"I did. But Freddy's trap didn't work out so well."

"What happened?"

"Three words. Danger Prone Daphne. And without being able to catch the Soothsayer red-handed, there was no proof, just circumstantial evidence. No arrest was made. In fact...

Another newspaper photo of a large man with a Sheriff's badge

"Sheriff Braxton was furious with us. He said if he ever saw any of us 'meddling kids' and our 'blanket-blank dog' again he'd throw us in jail on principle."

"Shaggy mentioned another person there."

"Daniel!"

An advertisement image of a young attorney

"He was the lawyer overseeing the transition of the house's ownership to the city."

"He looks pretty charismatic."

"Freddy insisted that Daniel was flirting with me. But I still hold true to my original theory."

"Which is?"

"Hang on, we're not quite there yet."

Another drawing, this time of a stone ankh

"This is something we found pretty early on but we weren't sure what it was for. It turned out to be the key to Barley's coffin."

"What was in there?"

"We never found out. It was locked when we first got to the museum, but after Fred's trap failed we found the coffin unlocked and empty."

"Who had the key last?"

"I did. But I lost it when my glasses were knocked off."

"So who was it then?"

"Do you want to take a guess?"

"Lindsey."

"Why Lindsey?"

"She was a trapeze artist, so she had the skills to pose as a ghost. Maybe she was trying to scare off Barley's former wives for whatever was in the coffin."

"That's a good thought, but that court case had already settled, and Lindsey had no real motive to dress in a costume since she already owned the house. She could have spent as much time as she needed searching the place."

"So Sheriff Braxton?"

"That was actually my first thought, considering how odd it was that the town sheriff was personally overseeing a real estate venture. But then we found this...

Half a crumbled ticket stub to PhantomCon

"This was the clue that solved the mystery. We had just come from PhantomCon ourselves where we'd first heard about Barley's museum. And at one point Daniel had made an offhanded comment about the latest Mile Selinker game which had made its public debut at the convention."

"So while he was at the convention Daniel discovered something was of value in the very mansion he'd been in charge of handling the paperwork for?"

"Exactly!"


Velma sat next to me, still pleased with her own deductions. I, on the other hand, felt less than satisfied. Perhaps it was a combination of the lack of a definite conclusion and the fact that my idea for doing a piece on Mystery Inc. was dead in the water.

"Do you know he even had the nerve to wink at me as we drove off?"

"You think that was a victory wink?"

"He got away with it, despite our meddling. Maybe even because of it."

"How so?"

"Well, one thing that bugged me for a long time was why he'd go through the trouble of creating a costumed character in order to steal something, but then I realized that Mystery Inc. was getting recognized. People knew us wherever we went. Even the town store where we stopped just before the Barley Museum sold mugs with Scooby's face on it. Daniel knew our methods, and knew that with a ghost to catch we'd all get too distracted with trying to solve a mystery to notice the valuables being slipped out from under our noses."

Velma sighed, briefly losing her aura of confidence for just a moment.

"It's a stain on our record. We may not have been outwitted, but we were beaten."


Everything went really fast after that and I just barely made my flight, but finally with several hours to do nothing but sit and think I spent a fair amount of time just feeling lousy. Selfishly, I'd really thought this was going to pan out in my favor. I could also tell that the undefeated Soothsayer still bothered Velma, and I couldn't help but empathize to a degree.

After I was done just feeling lousy I started sketching out as much information as I could remember Velma telling me, just to see if there was anything not adding up.

If there was I wasn't seeing it.

Except-

Okay, it was a long shot, but there were a huge number of gaps in the story. Even the explanation Velma had put forth, legitimate though it was, was anything but airtight. I had one question gnawing at me: What if Velma was wrong?

At first it felt to me like I was being disrespectful to her by questioning her explanation, but by the time the plane landed I'd convinced myself that even Velma wasn't entirely satisfied with her own conclusion, and the most respectful thing I could do for her was try to prove her wrong. If nothing else, I'd fail at that and wind up supporting what she already believed.

Regardless, I wasn't finished.

I checked into my hotel and went straight to the internet, single-minded of purpose. My editor was going to have to indulge me, or at least tolerate what I was doing.

My search engine came up on the screen and I entered my credentials. I filled in the 'who do you want to search for' tab and hit enter.

And honestly, as the search engine took a minute to do its thing, how could I resist saying these words out loud in the only time in my life I'd ever be able to utter them professionally?

"Scooby-Doo, where are you?"


Scooby Doo's Unsolved Mystery continues with Part Three: Scooby's Snack.

Editorial: Is Rock and Roll Dead?

Since I started this blog in March I've worked up a decent sized library of stories, poetry, backbiting, etc. and I thought it might be worth actually making the choice to churn out at least on blog entry a week. We'll see how that goes.


But as Gene Simmons has rather modestly declared Rock and Roll dead, I got to thinking about the topic and whether or not there was something to be said on that front. So today I'm happy to present my first editorial:

Is Rock and Roll Dead?

No.

Okay, I just previewed what I've written and for a blog it's a bit on the short side, so maybe I should expand on my opening statement.

First off, I've never really gotten what is and isn't Rock and Roll or what qualifies as Rock but not Roll. I can say Danny and the Juniors is usually not the first group which comes to mind (being a doo-wop quartet) but I find a certain truth to their hit Rock 'n Roll is Here to Stay.

So what exactly is Rock and Roll? Not even Wikipedia is sure. Music historians trace the origins of Rock back to Blues, Gospel, Country, Folk, and Jazz. Fair enough, but that doesn't really answer the question. Maybe the question should be, does Rock and Roll even exist? After all, the roots from which we perceive Rock and Roll to have blossomed are still in existence today. Maybe Rock is only an illusory hybrid in as much as we simply believe it to be.

It's still not a satisfactory thought process. You could just as easily argue that purple doesn't exist because it's merely a red-blue hybrid. Yet the general population accepts that there is in fact a color identifiable not only as purple but also as not-red and not-blue (and for the record, people who insist that color is only a perceived trick of the human brain are just killjoys).

I think we all accept that Rock and Roll exists in all of its subsets; hard (Pat Benatar), soft (Elton John), punk (The Offspring), progressive (Pink Floyd), and all those other adjectives to describe everyone from Violent Femmes to Breaking Benjamin. So perhaps it's safe to say that Rock and Roll truly does exist but as an ambiguity, like morality or humor.

So we can't really define Rock and Roll and we don't know where it really came from, so what if we instead ask "Why does Rock and Roll exist?" I've always assumed it caught on because it sounded good, and possibly because the teenaged culture was in a period of change. I'm sure if you posed the question to the music industry, they'd say "It exists because it sells to the fourteen year old demographic".

You know what? Let's explore that for a minute. Since its alleged birth, Rock and Roll has carried a stigma of being a teenaged thing. Well I'm sure nobody is going to challenge me in the comments section on this (hell, I have YET to receive a comment on any of my blogs) but being a teenager sucks. You don't really know who you are and you're suddenly getting responsibilities dumped on you and you're not getting the accompanying freedoms that the adults are clearly reaping the benefits of. Rock and Roll becomes your voice for the things you're feeling but don't really understand.

Maybe that's what Rock and Roll is: the challenge to someone else's imposed boundaries. That explains why Bill Haley & His Comets can seem like sooooo last century but still have left a defining rebellious mark on music history. Rock and Roll at its core is a defiance of the system, sometimes as a losing battle but sometimes as an actual jolt of 'sense' to outdated notions; the zeitgeist's 'soul' if you will (and you better!).

So then, is Rock and Roll dead? On the one hand Gene Simmons seems to be voicing a concern the world has been discussing since Lou Pearlman was handed a fountain pen; the music industry has tamed the beast. Well maybe. We don't really have pioneers of music anymore, we have a 'here today gone tomorrow' revolving door of substitute icons with funny names and poor fashion sense. And to Simmons's defense, the modern system probably has choked the life out of the modern Tom Pettys and Joan Jetts.

But on the other hand Rock and Roll has a history of thriving on repression. Life...ah...finds a way. We're beginning to see the first round of internet celebrities popping up, and they're willing to commit to their craft whether they get paid to do it or not. Lindsey Stirling is huge right now, and she's practically sidestepped the whole powers-that-be structure. She won't be the last. While the exectives are still fumbling around trying to figure out how to make money off the digital age, creativity will continue to seek its outlet.

So, no. Rock and Roll isn't dead. In hibernation? Yeah. "There is a passion for declivity in this world" but there is also the call to artistic expression against all odds. Rock and Roll came into being because we needed it, just as we need it now. It's quite possible the music industry is dying, and good riddance to it. But it won't take music with it because, again, we need Rock and Roll.

You know, if there's one thing Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure got unquestionably correct it's that Ludwig van Beethoven would have used electric instruments if he'd had access to them. I for one believe that Rock and Roll existed well before the 1940's; as far back as humanity was able to play instruments. It's ingrained in our species. It simply cannot die, in spite of our inherent laziness in nurturing it. To give Danny and the Juniors the deserved final word, "I don't care what people say, Rock & Roll is here to stay".