Let’s just cut straight to the chase: Jim Henson’s The Muppets will always be cool. If you disagree, kindly take your soulless heart, put it in a blender, and hit “purée.” There are few things in this world more pure than a crew of cloth, foam, and felt concoctions who have, for decades, managed to entertain adults and children alike with their absurdity, irreverence, and bottomless heart. Whether you’re 9 or 90, the Muppets are a perennial source of joy, irreverence, and even the occasional gut-punch of genuine emotion. You might think you’re too cool for them, but that’s because you’re wrong. The Muppets will forever be one of the coolest, most timeless creations of the past century—and they’re here to stay, as evidenced by the riotous perfection that was The Muppet Mayhem.
Let’s start with the basics. The Muppets aren’t just puppets—they’re characters. They have personalities that are as vivid as any Oscar-winning actor, and they’ve managed to stick around longer than most pop culture phenomena precisely because they have this timeless quality. Kermit the Frog is an idealist, but he’s always on the verge of a breakdown, which, honestly, makes him a perfect millennial mascot. Miss Piggy is the ultimate diva—equal parts glamor and karate chops—someone whose confidence is only matched by her complete and utter lack of self-awareness. Gonzo? Gonzo’s the weirdo we all secretly wish we could be: unashamed of his own oddities, reveling in his own bizarre glory. And don’t even get me started on Fozzie Bear’s jokes. Are they good? No. But are they endearing? Absolutely. That’s the kind of humor that ages like fine wine—or maybe a really pungent cheese. It doesn’t matter because it works.
These aren’t just empty, hollow puppets. They are reflections of the human condition—quirky, messy, ambitious, flawed, but always striving for something better, even if that “better” is nothing more than trying to make the world laugh, or in The Electric Mayhem’s case, rock out until their felt stitches unravel. Nowhere has this been more apparent recently than in The Muppet Mayhem, which not only resurrected the zaniness of these characters but also leaned into something we don’t often give The Muppets credit for: their profound ability to transcend generations.
For the uninitiated (read: those living under a rock or, worse, dismissing the Muppets as “kids’ stuff”), The Muppet Mayhem is a delightfully anarchic series centered around The Electric Mayhem, the fictional band that’s been grooving for decades under the indifferent guidance of their frontman, Dr. Teeth, and his eccentric crew: Animal, Floyd Pepper, Janice, Zoot, and Lips. What makes this show a tour de force in Muppet magic is that it doesn’t just rely on nostalgia to hook audiences—it understands that The Electric Mayhem are, in and of themselves, timeless. They’re not a cheap throwback or a sad attempt at capitalizing on Gen X sentimentality. No, The Muppet Mayhem is full of fresh, absurdist energy, exactly the kind of lunacy that has always made The Muppets great.
The show has a very contemporary feel, with a plotline about a young woman (played by Lilly Singh) trying to get The Electric Mayhem to record their first album in the modern-day music industry—a laughably impossible task given the band’s legendary incompetence, total detachment from reality, and Animal’s delightful lack of impulse control. But this isn’t just an exercise in rehashing old Muppet tropes. The Muppet Mayhem plays out as a brilliant satire of the music business, blending in just enough heart and nostalgia to keep old fans hooked while introducing these characters to a whole new generation.
And if you think this is just mindless comedy, you haven’t been paying attention. There’s a real undercurrent of sincerity to the show. Each member of the band, in their own ridiculous way, is wrestling with the idea of relevancy and the inevitable passage of time—a theme that could feel heavy-handed if not for the pure joy that comes from watching these Muppets go full throttle into chaotic absurdity. Whether it’s Animal discovering meditation or Janice’s whimsical musings about the universe, there’s a genuine sense of growth, even if the characters themselves remain delightfully stuck in their ways.
But let’s get back to the real point here: The Muppet Mayhem is not just good because it’s a new Muppet product; it’s good because it embraces the very essence of what made The Muppets cool in the first place. It’s irreverent without being mean. It’s absurd without being pointless. It’s filled with heart without being saccharine. Henson’s creation never needed to stoop to cheap gags or pandering to kids. The Muppets, from day one, have been smart, subversive, and just the right amount of edgy. They never took themselves too seriously, and that’s precisely why they’ll outlast every cynical pop culture trend you can throw at them.
Ultimately, The Muppet Mayhem is a reminder that coolness isn’t about trends or chasing the latest thing. It’s about authenticity. Jim Henson’s Muppets have always been cool because they are, at their core, true to themselves. They’re not trying to impress you; they’re not out to prove anything. They exist to entertain, to make you laugh, to make you think (if you’re willing), and most importantly, to remind you that sometimes the silliest things in life are the most valuable.
So, to anyone out there who thinks The Muppets have lost their cool, I say this: watch The Muppet Mayhem, then tell me your heart doesn’t feel three sizes too small.
