Film Review: Big Bird’s Existential Adventure

The latest big-budget children’s film from the Sesame Street team shows a definite change in style from previous movies, and also from the popular television series. Written by Charlie Kaufman and directed by Michel Gondry, Big Bird’s Existential Adventure is a fun, multi-layered, philosophically rich movie for all the family to enjoy and discuss afterwards over coffee.

In the film, puppeteer Matt Kogel (played by Matt Vogel) undergoes a personality crisis after playing the character Big Bird on the Sesame Street set for an extended period of time. Even when out of costume he starts walking and talking like the Muppet, and his friends feel that he is forgetting where Matt ends and where Big Bird begins. After an incident in a shoe shop where he forces Tyra Banks (playing herself) to count every single item of footwear in there, the producers of Sesame Street make him go on a break in his home town, where his love of puppetry began.

It is initially difficult for Kogel to readjust to a place where he is no longer a man in a giant yellow bird costume, no longer forced to talk like a child while operating a comically long mouth with one hand. Here, he is simply Matt, and learns that for the people close to him, this is enough.

In the course of the film, the dichotomy of actor and role are explored, and with many of the characters in the film playing themselves, there is a lot of self-referential material. At the beginning of the film, we see that the line between part and player is blurred and vague, and the world of the Jim Henson Workshop seems to permeate into the real world, courtesy of Big Bird’s existential angst. But as the line between Kogel and Big Bird solidifies, the two worlds go back to their separate existences.

Kids will adore the metaphysical implications of this movie. Many of the children who were at the same screening as me came out discussing the relative merits of free-will and deterministic approaches to the self, and how they related to Big Bird/Matt’s quandary. This could indeed be the best philosophical children’s movie since Disney’s Hannah Montana and the Ontological Proof of the Existence of God.

As with most films aimed at kids these days, the adults are not forgotten, either. There are plenty of fart jokes and people falling off chairs to stop the parents from getting bored.

Of course, the film is not flawless, and many of the kids I talked to found some of the concluding scenes a little too simplistic. Kogel’s relationship with a childhood sweetheart is a little tacked-on and unnecessary. The cameo from latest Henson Workshop wunderkind as a puppeteer at a party is five minutes of nothing more than cynical advertising. And it’s possible to get a little disoriented by Gondry’s eclectic camera selection and off-centre framing.

But these are just small niggles in what is otherwise a fine example of existential children’s cinema, carrying on the great tradition that started with Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Solipsists, moving through to 2003’s Spy Kids 4: Cartesian Dualism Duel.

Philosophical Book Round-Up

Some of you may have guessed from previous posts that I have a background in Philosophy. I believe that we can learn a lot from the deepest thinkers of the last few thousand years, and that current philosophical thought is advancing the knowledge and experience of the human race as much as anything else. I have recently been delving my nose into some of the latest books of philosophical thought written by the most eminent minds of our generation, with no fear of even the longest, most complicated words and sentences. Much of what I read was thought provoking, erudite and quite, quite brilliant, though some of the arguments and logical reasoning on display showed some room for improvement. Here are my findings.

On the Epistemological Qualities of Hegellian Dialectical Thought in the Twentieth Century by Professor Rutger Blenschneitz is a rubbish book because it has a brown cover. Brown covers are rubbish. I hate brown. Plus this book smells like asparagus. Professor Blenschneitz is a terrible writer because he has a silly name.

I enjoyed Cognitive Ethology and Quantum Philosophy: A Radical Comparative Approach by Sir Thomas Miller. This was because the book had some pictures of dogs in it. Dogs are great, aren’t they? They run around loads and they bite my sister. And then when they get wet they shake themselves dry and the wetness goes all over everywhere and everyone gets wet and starts crying. A wonderful book by a preeminent thinker.

Further Investigations into the Inter-Totality of Essence by Gottfried van Dyke went like this: “Dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur symbolism.” And then it went like this: “Wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wah meaning.” And then it went like this: “Dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur dur I smell, signed Gottfried van Poop.”

Professor Jayne Maddox is my favourite philosopher ever. I’ve got all her books, even the really rare ones that nobody else has. Her latest masterpiece, Godel’s Proof of the Incompleteness of Formal Systems and its Implications on the Progress of Science, is amazing, because it has a picture of her on the back cover. I can move the book around and her eyes follow me around. It’s like we’re dancing, Jayne Maddox and I. We’re dancing! Together! And in love!

This is the best book ever.

Finally, The Philosophy of Hannah Montana is an excellent introduction to the world of philosophical thought as told through the popular Disney Channel series. Existentialism, Leibniz’s Monadology, Plato’s Republic, Hume’s problem of induction and Descartes’ famed Cogito argument are all brilliantly explained in terms of Miley Cyrus and chums. Particularly strong is the section on the Philosophy of Language, with special mention being given to Tarski’s T-Scheme, metalanguages and the implication of the existence of paradoxes on formalised language. My only problems with this book are that it doesn’t have any pictures of dogs in it, and Professor Jayne Maddox isn’t on the cover.