Movie unveils puppetry
Prodigies. We hear more and more about them every year. The 11-year-old with a million-dollar iPhone app, the 13-year-old with a golden arm and a scholarship for USC or even the 15-year-old Cambridge graduate — they all make headlines.
But a puppeteering prodigy? That’s far more rare. There’s no better way, however, to describe the life of Kevin Clash, the subject of Constance Mark’s documentary Being Elmo: A Puppeteer’s Journey.
And although Clash’s most recognized accomplishment — being the puppeteer and voice behind the ubiquitous Elmo of Sesame Street and Tickle Me Elmo fame — is the impetus for the film, it is Clash’s journey from prodigy to the most famous street in public television history that truly invigorates the story.
Clash, whose voice and appearance belie the furry red monster so many of us grew up with, started his life in Baltimore as nothing more than a child with an unusually clear sense of what he wanted to do. A few Saturday mornings spent in front of Captain Kangaroo and the early Sesame Street, and Clash knew puppeteering was for him. What follows is classic American dream narrative, as Clash is hired by his local public television station, works hard and gets thrust into the surprisingly vibrant New York City puppeteering scene of the 1980s.
Whoopi Goldberg sparsely narrates Clash and others recalling encounters with legends of the game Kermit Love, Frank Oz (you might know him as Yoda or Miss Piggy) and of course the late Muppets founder Jim Henson, whose mastery of the subject drives Clash’s wonderment and ambition.
Those looking for a day-in-the-life-of documentary will likely be disappointed, as will those looking for in-depth analysis of the impact of Sesame Street, Elmo, or even the fact that Clash was the first black puppeteer to be hired by the long-running children’s show.
The documentary doesn’t even begin to breach these topics, which might be damning; but let’s be honest, the heart-melting Elmo character doesn’t really need that kind of introspection.
What the audience does get is a real look into the complex and intertwined world and experience of puppeteers where Henson stands as the guiding light of the entire world. It’s not surprising, then, that the most touching scene in the film is not of Clash spending time with children — of which there are many — but instead a scene from Henson’s 1990 memorial service where 40-plus Muppets and their puppeteers sing “Just One Person,” a song celebrating the power of just one person believing in you, something with which Clash can certainly relate.
Experiencing puppetry through Clash’s eyes is inspiring. Amid training the cast of the new French Sesame Street and spending time with an aspiring young puppeteer the audience gets a sense of Clash’s mastery of the subject and his passion for it, a clear success of Mark’s story-telling ability through documentation.
There is plenty of footage of Clash, and it’s clear his story has been the subject of interviews and films in the past, Mark using older-looking footage to paint a growing picture of Clash. The consistency of the storytelling falters, however, in scenes where there just isn’t the footage to back up the stories. What accompanies some stories from Goldberg, Oz, Clash and his engaging parents can be described only as schmaltzy cut scenes that belong in a video game or a far too literal music video.
Clash tells the story of his nervousness before meeting Henson for the first time, and how he spent a few minutes in the bathroom collecting his thoughts. The audience is given a sepia-toned bathroom sink that keeps running for far too long on screen. It feels out of place in a film centered on the idea of inspiration through visual storytelling and puppets.
But besides these visual miscues the film thrives on its ability to tell its story through the magic of puppetry and the success Clash has found. The film might not engender the sense of nostalgia you were looking for, but Clash’s story proves just as endearing, educational and grin-educing as an episode of Sesame Street.