The Muppets Mayhem review: A family-friendly music biz satire

After half a century, The Muppet Show and its spinoffs have shaped who knows how many young minds. Dr. Bunsen Honeydew and Beaker turned tots on to science (and fire extinguishers); RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars was taken over by Miss Piggy; even Statler and Waldorf modeled the grim pleasures of cultural criticism. Who corrupted the most youth? Gotta be the Electric Mayhem. The Muppetverse’s resident rockers glorified stupidity and destruction in pursuit of the perfect jam, catnip for authority-averse kids. Now the band has its own Disney+ limited series, The Muppets Mayhem (out May 10), a blend of music-biz satire and sentimental life lessons that makes for an enjoyable road trip, if not the mind-blowing concert you’ll never forget.

The story kicks off with the sobering realization that despite its legendary status—Lil Nas X and Tommy Lee deliver on-camera tributes—the Mayhem is a one-hit wonder. The funky banger “Can You Picture That?” spiced up The Muppet Movie soundtrack, but their output since has been covers. They were under contract to record an album for Wax Town Records but never delivered, as junior executive Nora (Lilly Singh) discovers while shredding Wax files. Acting out of personal ambition more than love of music, Nora makes it her mission to get the Mayhem out of their rut, into the studio, and on digital playlists. Without consulting her obnoxious, hot-sauce-guzzling boss, Penny Waxman (a life-size Muppet voiced by Leslie Carrara-Rudolph), Nora threatens the band with defaulting on a $430K advance.

Drawn along on Nora’s quest is Moog (Tahj Mowry), a sweet Mayhem superfan who follows their tours and becomes a font of band lore. Nora’s sister, Hannah (Saara Chaudry), is an Instagram influencer whose bratty vanity is tempered by affection for her uptight sis. Pulling double duty as love interest and corporate villain is JJ (Anders Holm), a smarmy tech bro who carries a torch for Nora (Moog also vies pathetically for her affections). Predictably, the humans act as foils for the Muppets (and vice versa), each learning the value of self-acceptance, forgiveness, and keeping it real.

The Mayhem you already know. Frontman and gold-toothed keyboardist Dr. Teeth (Bill Barretta) speaks a jazz-daddy patois that favors portmanteau neologisms (“that’s a name I recollize” he murmurs). On lead guitar, Ur–Valley Girl Janice (David Rudman) keeps things chill with fer-shurring and New Age healing rituals. Floyd Pepper (Matt Vogel) is the gravelly voiced bassist and closest connection the band has to reality. In the brass section, Lips (Peter Linz) and Zoot (Dave Goelz) are the goony side men—one an incoherent mush mouth, the other a spacey, sax-blowing burnout. And drummer Animal (Eric Jacobson) is simply Animal: a panting, monosyllabic gremlin with hair issues who likes to smash, eat, and attack anything that crosses his path.

Halfway through 10 episodes, creative tensions in the band start to show: Floyd is a perfectionist, Dr. Teeth can’t commit, Janice is the mommy who represses conflict, and Animal breaks stuff. By the fourth episode, the Mayhem finally gets down to recording in the studio, trying to lay down a cover of “Rockin’ Robin” with a variety of star “collabs”—Kesha, Ziggy Marley, Deadmau5, and Desiigner—all failing rather miserably. It takes a while, but Nora comes to realize the Mayhem don’t need to ride anyone’s coattail: They have a rock magic all their own.

Dryly funny and innately warm, Singh is inspired casting as the Muppets’ straight woman, forever exasperated then inspired by the band’s whimsy and weirdness. Teeth shares his Zen credo with her while sucking down a Mai Tai in a hot tub: “No plan is the plan.” Undaunted, Nora persists. “They’re perfectly happy being exactly who they are,” she complains to Hannah. “Impulsive, aimless, and totally incapable of following any logic or rules or plans.” Nora rides the classic arc of a zealous outsider trying to tame a wild beast, only to realize she’s the one who needs to change.

In some ways, the Mayhem is the purest distillation of the Muppet ethos—messy adult behavior Muppetized and demystified for younger audiences. Kermit is a neurotic, passive-aggressive workaholic. Miss Piggy’s a narcissist with rage issues. The Mayhem takes a milieu associated with seedy sex, drugs, and tragic early death and translates it into creativity and team spirit.

The funniest writing comes out when the band members are flying their freak flags in the van: headbanging to a metal track despite all wearing neck braces; free-associating names for their album that range from the sublime to the ridiculous; or tripping out after ingesting long-expired marshmallows in the desert. An episode where Animal quits over a miscommunication and becomes a hibachi chef leads to delectable sight gags. Another clever bit involves Dr. Teeth’s first foray into Twitter, a bad autocorrect, and a street ambush from superfans—Beliebers, Gaga’s Little Monsters, Swifties, and the BeyHive. As the Mayhem gets closer to a climactic concert at the Hollywood Bowl, they become dangerously obsessed with social media and selling out, and the showbiz satire sharpens.

Pretty much every episode has a problem that gets resolved through a strategically placed cover. (Nora’s heart melts when Janice sings “True Colors” and an alienated Animal returns to the fold when Floyd croons “Bridge Over Troubled Waters.”) The parallel plotting between the band and Nora’s life isn’t subtle—she raised Hannah from childhood, and Floyd reared baby Animal. No one expects subtlety from a Muppet sitcom, but the patterns can grow repetitive. The original Muppet Show may have hewed to a format, but that was a variety show with backstage action. Like way too much TV these days, Muppets Mayhem feels like a neat idea for a movie that has been stretched to fill several hours.

Celebrity cameos and Animal slapstick keep things fairly fresh. There are quick turns from Susanna Hoffs, Morgan Freeman, Paula Abdul, Charlamagne tha God, and “Weird Al” Yankovic (but not Jack Black, oddly). Cheech and Chong pop up, left behind in an abandoned recording studio waiting for pizza (that’s some munchies). One of the best walk-ons is director Peter Jackson, which prompts a joke about Meet The Feebles. The classic covers are polished enough. The theme song “Rock On” is a bop I wish had made it to the final concert. And for parents who stream with their kids, there will be a few well-earned chuckles and ample opportunities to introduce the little ones to that dusty record collection.