A Reel Review: THE HAPPYTIME MURDERS

In the last decade or so, the art and skill of puppetry has fallen by the wayside; replaced by the pixels and mouse-clicks of CGI characters. The old talking sock has fallen into the realm of nostalgia; bringing back memories of kids’ TV shows and ensemble musical films. The new film by Brian Henson (son of Jim), THE HAPPYTIME MURDERS, looks to capitalize on those old, fuzzy feelings while bringing the art into new territory.

In a world where humans and living puppets co-exist, puppet private investigator Phil Philips (Bill Baretta), reunites with his old partner, detective Edwards (Melissa McCarthy), to find a serial murderer who is knocking off former cast members of The Happytime Gang TV show.

It’s always an odd experience to see humans interacting with puppets. To keep things grounded, Henson and screenwriter Todd Berger hang the film’s hat on the peg of nostalgia. HAPPYTIME at its core is a classic, Los Angeles-based noir film, using all of the classic tropes on its way to find a killer. Familiar items such as narration, a down-on-his-luck P.I., an angry ex-partner, an angrier police lieutenant, a sexy and mysterious client, a string of murders, and the seedy underbelly of the city. In fact, HAPPYTIME sticks to these old tropes too close. The plot is paper-thin, and even the attempted twists and surprises can be seen from a mile away. Even if we put aside the fact that we’ve seen this old story old before, the story is laid out so plainly that it’s horribly predictable. Predictable leads to boring.

Seemingly aware that the story is so much like a waif, Henson goes for the shock factor to balance things out. His puppets swear all the time, have violent sex, film pornos with dogs, cows, and octopus, ejaculate with endless streams of silly string, and use insults and one-liners that only a 13 year-old boy would find funny. It’s crude for the sake of being crude, and isn’t very funny in the least. Most of the gags just come off as stupid.

The script starts to lay down decent foundations for the characters and their world, but fails to develop them any further than the first page. In this world, puppets are treated like minorities; a fine idea that is forgotten about too quickly. Edwards and Phil have a past that is an odd one; Edwards hates Philips despite owing her life to him. HAPPYTIME also plays it loose with the rules; the puppets don’t get hurt when they’re punched (according to Phil, it’s like fluffing a pillow), but a bullet to the head can kill them. It’s inconsistent and weird. The designs range from classic humanoid to large animals to a few that make no sense.

If it’s good puppet-work that audiences want, then HAPPYTIME does deliver. Using a combo of classic puppetry and digital trickery, the puppets walk freely (bizarre to see, but effective), soak in hot tubs, and smoke cigarettes convincingly (Henson seems to be proud of the smoking effect, Phil lights up for what seems like 900 times). The puppet-deaths are a bit of a hoot as they have their heads blown off with shotguns and torn apart by dogs which sends stuffing flying everywhere; one of few moments of earned laughter.

Convincing us that a puppet is real requires good acting from the humans, and HAPPYTIME doesn’t meet that bar. Melissa McCarthy is bland as ever, and her endless F-bombs are meaningless. Elizabeth Banks and Joel McHale pop in but it always looks like they are not enjoying their time with the talking socks; we half-expect them to not keep a straight face. Maya Rudolph shows up as Phil’s secretary, and is probably the only one that understands that she’s in a ridiculous movie; she acts like the film is a running joke and it works.

After a finale that (again), can be seen from a mile away, HAPPYTIME ends with a shrug, and it’s staggering that a film full of puppets can be so blah. It’s not funny, very stupid, and can’t even get juvenile crudeness to earn a laugh. If puppets are ever to make a comeback, this is the movie to act as the example of what not to do. There’s no happy time here.

BOTTOM LINE: Fuck it