How Muppets Now and The Not-Too-Late Show with Elmo Return to Jim Henson’s Strengths
Photo Courtesy of Disney+ and HBO Max
When Sesame Street made its debut in 1969, TV was already hard to escape—and kids didn’t even have iPads back then. Now, with Baby Shark pumped out of every electronic device available, Paw Patrol the topic of White House discussion, and kid-aimed YouTube rife with strange content creators gaming its algorithmic system, the screen has solidified its formative place in modern life. And those in the ‘60s could see it coming: the prime directive of Sesame Street was to “master the addictive qualities of television and do something good with them.” When The Muppets hit ABC in 2015, that idealism had been updated to exhausted disillusionment. That might not have been an inaccurate change, but it’s certainly not what The Muppets excel at. Thankfully the summer’s new Muppet shows—Disney+’s unscripted Muppets Now and HBO Max’s The Not-Too-Late Show with Elmo—may exist in a radically different pop culture zeitgeist, but they still embody puppet savant Jim Henson’s strengths by demystifying and democratizing an entertainment industry they’re excited to be a part of.
Adult media illiteracy causes enough problems on a daily basis, whether they’re in the comments section or the Oval Office, making it clear how desperately kids need an early and comprehensive education on the subject. As frivolous as it might sound, responsible access to the blurring lines of late night TV, news, and celebrity culture is key for the curriculum. American culture uses talk shows and guest stars to test the viability of political candidates, showcase who is “marketable” to the masses, and represent the norm. The options available to kids are almost all soul-suckingly capitalist, politically compromised, or otherwise evil. When Elmo puts on a suit and tie for his big late night comedy gig, it’s a relief knowing I won’t find racist jokes when I scroll back through his Twitter account.
The Not-Too-Late Show with Elmo, which premiered on HBO Max earlier this summer, features the lovable red muppet becoming the talk show host with the second-highest amount of self-laughter in his monologues (after Jimmy Fallon, of course). With a “studio audience” of adults, kids, and Muppets—recalling John Mulaney’s excellent Sack Lunch Bunch special—Elmo showcases the best of late-night talk show humor: pop culture guests showing a new, more human side of themselves; variety antics that often poke fun at the process itself or reveal the Muppet behind the curtain; and personality-filled monologues.
The metahumor isn’t entirely dependent on a working knowledge of TV or talk show norms (though it certainly helps to have them) and owes a lot to late night’s first famous redhead, Conan O’Brien. But as raucous and zany as it feels—one of the best parts of late night TV is the feeling that audience and host alike are getting away with something—The Not-Too-Late Show is inherently kid-focused. The subject matter of the recurring segments, where guests play songs or take part in games, include brushing your teeth and making silly faces. There’s even a nightly goodbye song to help transition kids from primetime to bedtime.
The adherence to genre format is part introduction, part education. Not only do young viewers get to feel like Big Kids for watching the same kind of show they might glimpse their parents laughing at after delivering a goodnight kiss, they learn about an entire section of the world mapped around entertainment—a world that might otherwise feel inaccessible if all they saw were celebrities delivering adult-oriented anecdotes as a predominance of white dude hosts led them from couch to couch. With the familiar Elmo and Cookie Monster running the show, the pinnacle of pop culture is as easy to get to as 123 Sesame Street. Whether it’s in the booth, on the couch, or behind the desk, every role in the show’s production becomes a possibility for the audience.
The relatively low-fi Muppets Now taps into more pure Henson art, leaving the explicitly educational focus of the Sesame Workshop for an entertainment experience that informs through tone and content. The Muppet Show wasn’t supposed to be just for kids (one of its pilots was titled The Muppet Show: Sex and Violence), but its bananas antics became a gateway to pop culture for many impressionable, starry-eyed show biz wannabes. Beyond the guest list of iconic actors and legendary musicians, the bevy of parody at hand eased kids into mainstream media with slapstick and silliness, from soap opera knock-off “Veterinarian’s Hospital” to “Pigs in Space” to Sam the Eagle’s ridiculous editorials.