In the Dark Reviews

'Jim Henson Idea Man' celebrates imagineer

Kirk Boxleitner | Jun 06, 20240

Courtesy photo count

Even after he grew out his beard, which itself grew gray, Jim Henson remained a grinning kid with his Muppets, as chronicled in "Idea Man," now streaming on Disney+.

"Jim Henson Idea Man" sees Ron Howard apply his best directorial strengths to a fittingly heartfelt biography of the man who made his name as the creator of the Muppets, although Howard follows Henson's own example of being quick to credit all of Henson's many creative partners, starting with Jim's since-deceased widow, Jane.

Jim Henson was only 53 years old when he died in 1990, and yet, his imagination birthed more characters, television shows and movies than even his more devoted fans can easily keep track of, and what "Idea Man" underscores is that, if his life or career had zigged instead of zagged, he could have revolutionized multiple artistic fields that were entirely removed from puppetry.

Perhaps surprisingly, Henson only got into puppetry to begin with as a means of getting into television, and he was recruited as one of the co-creators of "Sesame Street" in spite of his protestations that he wasn't in the business of entertaining children, since the Muppets started out as much darker comedians than our sanitized memories might credit them with being.

Henson was an impeccable sketch artist and an instinctive graphic designer who, in spite of not being a musician himself, had a real knack for incorporating music into visual productions.

Before "Sesame Street," "Idea Man" revealed that Henson was already an experienced experimental filmmaker, who was seriously considering starting an avant-garde nightclub.

Jim Henson's first creative partner was his wife Jane, who even played early incarnations of Kermit the Frog on occasion, and hearing about their well-intentioned but ultimately misfiring relationship reminded me of the troubled creative partnership between Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird, co-creators of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Jim and Jane were both animated by strong creative visions, which led to conflicts as Jim took on an ever-increasing number of other work partners, such as fellow puppeteer Frank Oz, even though Jane herself was actively recruiting a number of those collaborators, because their family business rapidly outgrew the Muppets and the Hensons alike.

Whatever their differences, what I found inspiring was the mutual respect Jim and Jane retained, even after their marriage had effectively ended, because they shared a belief in, and a commitment to, their shared creations, enough that Jane didn't hesitate to support Jim's financially risky move to buy back that creative stable, after it had fallen into strangers' hands.

"Idea Man" also reaffirmed my belief in the importance of a nurturing, freeform upbringing to fostering creativity, since so many of Jim Henson's ideas seemed to stem from his relatively idyllic, untroubled childhood, during which he was afforded not only the time and opportunities to explore random tangents inside his own head, but also the quiet permission to recreate what he came up with, in there, out here in the real world.

"Idea Man" hammers home how profoundly Henson's output impacted society as a whole by sharing a succession of clips from "Sesame Street" and "The Muppet Show," each one of which arguably constitutes its own generation-wide shared memory, since nearly every kid my age counted to 12 using the same song from "Sesame Street."

However ambivalent Henson might have been about being boxed in as a children's entertainer, "Idea Man" validates the notion that the right kind of children's entertainment can benefit kids' learning and evolution, into ever-curious and empathetic human beings, which Jim supported as a father to five kids of his own, just about all of whom are now part of the family business as smiling, gray-haired adults.

My only real criticism of "Idea Man" is that, for all its focus on Henson's early commercial period, followed by the twin towering successes of "Sesame Street" and "The Muppet Show," the full decade of his output during the 1980s receives relatively short shrift, to the point that "Fraggle Rock" is introduced with a Henson quote about how he conceived of that TV show as a way of ending war, except that ambitious statement never gets followed up on.

As briefly as 1982's "The Dark Crystal" and 1986's "Labyrinth" are touched upon, though, it was heartening to me to see them treated by "Idea Man" as classics that simply weren't appreciated sufficiently during their time.

For all the other fascinating details that are revealed about Jim Henson's life and work in "Idea Man," I would argue that two of the most telling moments in the film come first when a platonic male friend and coworker recalls how one of the last things Jim said to him before dying was simply, "I love you," and then when Frank Oz recounts how Jim's last words to him were a message about a new idea he'd just had ... and then, he died.

Jim Henson demonstrated not only a delightfully twisted sense of humor, but also a tremendous capacity for love, as well as a restless compulsion to explore whatever his next big idea was, and "Idea Man" was a welcome reminder of the tangible ways in which he made my life measurably better.

So, thank you, Jim.