Part of the process of forming the basic framework of The Muppet Show involved running The Muppet Show: Sex And Violence and The Muppet Valentine Show through a variation of the Koozebanian Mating Ritual, ramming the two pilots-cum-one-off-specials into each other at full speed—with explosive results. Like the offspring created in that sketch, The Muppet Show isn’t a carbon copy of either of its parents, but it does bear some of their distinct traits. For instance, it got At The Dance and The Electric Mayhem from Sex And Violence; from The Muppet Valentine Show, it inherited an important angle that would eventually help sell the show to adult viewers: Guest stars.
Of course, a good variety show or sketch-comedy program should be able to succeed on the merits of its core cast; after all, no one looks back at the first season of Saturday Night Live and credits the show’s reshaping of the TV-comedy landscape to, say, Desi Arnaz and Anthony Perkins. (Then again, no one credits it to the season-one regulars from The Land Of Gorch, either.) A good guest star can take a variety show to the next level—witness Steve Martin’s work on both SNL and The Muppet Show—but if the talent that’s there every week is lacking, then the show has little hope for survival.
The Muppet Show is one of those variety series that endures thanks in large part to the bounty of talent pooled among its cast and crew—but the guests are still a critical ingredient in the show’s recipe. The guests don’t make or break any episodes of The Muppet Show (see this week’s installment with Lou Rawls) but the right or wrong match went a long way toward ensuring an episode that’s memorable for the right reasons (see the second of this week’s episodes). Henson and crew were the ones who were there to make sure The Muppet Show never collapsed under the weight of its concepts, characters, and ambitions, but it takes a certain type of onscreen human collaborator to make those concepts, characters, and ambitions really sing.
Episode 215: Lou Rawls
“With our special guest star”: There’s no denying that Lou Rawls possessed an insanely rich, soulful voice, the type that could imbue even the alphabet with a silky coolness. The strength of the man’s comedic chops and timing are more debatable, and the hesitant, wide-eyed take he gives to camera at the top of his Muppet Show episode doesn’t bode well for the rest of the half-hour. Rawls appears more relaxed elsewhere, but he’s obviously most comfortable in musical-performance mode, laying into the groove and letting the soul pour forth on numbers like the Gamble and Huff compositions “Groovy People” and “You’re The One.” When he’s integrated into the runner involving Fozzie’s roller skates, Rawls manages to score a big laugh—though it requires him to be little more than a streak across the screen.
“The most sensational, inspirational, celebrational”: The way this episode plays, it’s as if the writers knew they’d be limited in the way they could utilize the guest star, and therefore churned out a prototypical Muppet Show that could stand on the main ensemble’s considerable strengths. There are several solid instances of signature segments—Muppet News Flash, Veterinarian’s Hospital, At The Dance, and Muppet Labs each make an appearance—with Dr. Bob and his associates putting in the episode’s funniest, most adventurous work. The sketch burns through its jokes—all revolving around the physicians “losing” their patient—before The Narrator butts in, the characters question him on his identity, and his answer initiates a second, swifter take on the scene. Given that Rowlf, Piggy, and Janice’s punchlines here all involve the ethereal, their interrogation of the narrator isn’t as emptily meta as it initially seems. It’s such a fun spin on the Veterinarian’s Hospital format that it wouldn’t matter if it was emptily meta—besides, Nelson’s narration is already so full of character, it was only a matter of time before it became a character.
“It’s like a kind of torture to have to watch the show”: With its Talk Spot and the black-out-like scene between Rawls, Animal, and Floyd, this episode is also reminiscent of an installment from the first-season. The former segment is a more successful integration of the guest and his counterparts in The Electric Mayhem than the latter, which is a bit of character building for Animal with no jokes outside of the typical “Animal’s unhinged” material. The laid-back R&B star and the wild-child drummer make less suitable comedic partners than you’d expect.
“It’s time to play the music”: Here’s an improvement on a type of segment debuted at the top of the second season: Link Hogthrob’s version of “Sonny Boy” for a live piglet puts a humorous spin on the “Rowlf sings ‘What A Wonderful World’ to a real dog” segment from Episode 201. It’s not that I think The Muppets should never do anything that’s warm and sincere without being funny—I just think Link’s puffed-up persona makes him better suited for a spoonful of saccharine like this. (It doesn’t hurt that the persona also makes it funny… ) As a character, Rowlf would see right through this sentimental junk; Link would probably think it would earn him an Emmy nomination.
“It’s time to raise the curtain”: When Rawls glides by during the outro, it provides insight into how Frank Oz and Fozzie move so smoothly through the background of Episode 215. Oz was either on some sort of track, or he was just tearing around the soundstage without moving his arms to and fro.