Musings on the frog and pig
Okay, it's time to weigh in on this topic. (Where the heck have I been?)
Since I am one of the official old folks on the board, I'm going to invoke the priviledge of older folk and talk about what life was back when I was a kid. I had the priviledge of growing up with the Muppets--I watche Sesame Street YEARS before all of you were born, and I got to see TMS every single week as it debued. I subscribed to the magazine, was a member of the fan club. I bought their merchandise as it came out--and there was A LOT OF IT--and I remember not being able to go into Hallmark without being inundated with Muppet stuff. Muppet tablecloths, napkins, bridge cards, greeting cards, plaques, calendars, etc. I sent Muppet Christmas cards and decorated my tree with muppet ornaments--as they came out. All of this doesn't make me an expert, but it certainly gives me a different perspective than you young folks who didn't watch this evolve. Let me see if I can illustrate.
Anybody out there a first-run Trekkie? Now that Star Trek has five--COUNT 'EM FIVE--series, multiple movies and enough merchandise to clog a wormhole, it's hard to imagine that Star Trek was ever beleaguered and needed the help of fans. Fans of ST today just cannot understand the shift in perspective that all us old folks have gone thru--they take much for granted.
So, putting that in Muppet terms, I watched TMS evolve from a show that was lacking ANY United States support--a show that had to actually appeal to a foreign country for backing--into the hottest thing around. Get this--The Muppets became hot before people said, "hot." Am I getting through?
Now that I’ve said that, let’s talk about the evolution of the characters. Kermit used to be a straight-man staple on the Street, and if you needed someone to get completely discombobulated by a weird situation, then Kermit was your frog. Grover drove him crazy, and our favoriate amphibian did no end of funny, funny interviews with various characters while mayhem happened around him. Like Rowlf, Kermit was one of Jim’s true voices, and that made him a natural for hosting a variety show, on which anything and everything MIGHT happen, and usually did.
So they did a pilot, and it was funny but still evolving. Do you remember the pilot for your favorite show? Sometimes it takes a while for things to settle in. And while Kermit was already a known quantity, and Rowf was being revived, everyone else was pretty much created from scratch.
Fozzie, for instance, was supposed to be a brash, in-your-face and horrible comedian. The writers thought it would be funny to have a comedian that wasn’t funny, who week after week would bomb phenomenally. It quickly became apparent that, while that may have seemed funny initially, it wasn’t in practice. Fozzie had to be revamped. The first time FOzzie seemed to really hit his mark was when he took off his hat, gave puppy-dog eyes to the audience and said something like, “Please don’t boo! I’m trying sooo hard!” Immediately, our hearts went out to him. “Yeah!” we told those old men in the balcony. You leave him alone! And we were suddenly on his side.
Piggy wasn’t initially slated to be a star, which was one of the reasons that she wasn’t initially assisgned a regular muppeteer. Frank’s voice was assumed to be Fozzie, and of course Animal in the band, but there was no predicting what might happen once Frank Oz had an idea and moved on it.
Jim was a remarkable leader. He not only encouraged suggestions and improvisation from his cast and crew, but he gloried in ANYTHING that made the show better, even if it one-upped him, or the scene as it was written. If what happened by whim or accident was better than what was written, then more’s the better. In that infamous chorus scene, Piggy was just supposed to sing the solo. That’s it. That’s all. (And for all you naysayers of the frog-pig romance, just listen to the way Kermit talks to her. Disinterested by, um, shoe.) Instead, Piggy literally stepped out of the chorus to take the song—and the songleader—by storm. A star was born, and to thunderous applause. I would like to point out that this is the way it often happens in real life—a minor character catches the imagination of the audience and suddenly everything shifts.
Again, because I’m old and decrepit, let me try to put this in context for you younger people. We were at the height of the women’s movement. Women still did not enjoy the same rights as men under many laws of the country, and the emergence of the woman who could “Bring home the bacon, fry it up in the pan” (my apologies, Piggy, my dear) and do it all while looking and acting like a sexpot were upon the American public. Piggy caught the eyes and the imagination of the public because she was brassy, strong, talented and wouldn’t be condescended to. She also wasn’t going to sit home (no cell phones, remember?) waiting for any man to call her. When she saw something she like, she spoke up, and she wasn’t above planting more than a few kissy-kissy kisses on a certain amphibian. While certainly bowled over, Kermit never initially said things like, “Get off me!” or “Somebody called security.” When Kermit said, “Sheesh!” and quaked in his, um, boots, it seemed obvious to some that he was equal parts thrilled and terrified. Piggy frequently made reference to their dates and their future life together, and Kermit never says “There isn’t going to be one.” He usually side-steps by saying, “That hasn’t happened yet,” or “It’s not going to happen right now.” All the while, he’s continuing to go out with Piggy and make a jealous fool of himself when it seems necessary. As for Kermit “not minding” when Piggy fawns over someone else, like Christopher Reeve, all I can say is, “Watch that episode again.” Kermit is obviously smitten, and why shouldn’t he be? Piggy’s gorgeous and talented, a diva and a supermodel. Again, although it makes me sound like and old gaffer—and yes, that is my real age up there—I remember the time when Piggy was at the height of her popularity. She was on posters, cards, books, plaques, buttons, pins and—my oh my—calendars. In other words, I remember when Kermit was just Piggy’s nerdy boyfriend. And don’t get all huffy with me—if there is a more lovable nerdy amphibian out there more deserving of Piggy’s bodacious affection, I’ll eat my hat and his, too. Those of you who wonder what Kermit sees in her mystify me, because for so long, it was the other way around, and part of the joke was that the Divine Swine, who could have her pick of mast co-stars, always chose her heart over good sense.
Now, I don’t know how to broach this next without just being sortof blunt, so let me take a deep breath and speak frankly. Social mores were different back then. Women did not play around—at least not openly—like they do now. Having many, um, boyfriends did not make you popular back then. It made you common, and I don’t mean in a good way. No one back then thought it was appropriate for women to a conspicuous lover, much less several. Because of that, and because Piggy, like each of us, is a product of her time, Piggy didn’t just try to have a fling with Kermit. (How hard would that have been, if that’s all she was after?) Also due to social mores, Kermit probably would have been horrified if he thought that was all Piggy was after. Piggy didn’t “want to have a relationship with Kermit.” She HAD a relationship with Kermit, but she wanted more. She wanted to marry him, to spend her life with him, to make him happy and be made happy by him in return. She wanted the sort of love that people still dream about—someone who cares about you and wants what is best for you.
If you don’t take this into consideration, and you apply current social mores on their behavior, you won’t get a true picture of what was really happening. So when Piggy tries to shang-hai Kermit into a commitment, it’s because she wants a life-time of waking up to his scrunchy face and morning breath. She wanted permanence, and commitment. The possibility (if not the reality) of little progs and figs.
Now, I don’t know if you have noticed, but Kermit is very insecure about people leaning on him, counting on him to take care of them, or be in charge. One several occasions we see him lose it when everyone crowds around and demands that he have the answers to everything. Any way you cut it, Kermit’s insecurity about living up to people’s expectations and Piggy’s high-maintenance persona make for a lot of uncomfortable moments. What if he commits and fails? How horrible is that? (If you know, don’t answer. You have my pity.) Piggy, on the other hand, won’t, um, concede without the stability and commitment of marriage. THERE is your relationship tension, and it wasn’t all that complicated, was it?
Now, I’ve had my say about the frog and the pig, and probably taken much more than my share of time. When you’ve recovered from this, I might have a say about where I think the muppets ought to go next.