Dear Imaginary Reader:
The Fraggles on DVD! FINALLY! If you have a child, are a child, were a child, or plan to be a child someday soon, you need them. Jim Henson's crew knew about those beautiful places we could all see as kids, behind veils of concrete, just around the corner from tedious reality. It's harder now to believe in the clumsy harmlesness of Gorgs, or trust the wisdom of Trash Heaps; the Doozer's architectural wonders are of a Sysyphean futility, and when I see old sweatered Doc I wonder if the actor has croaked yet. (He hasn't! He plays another "Doc" in the "Boondock Saints" sequel).
The one character I relate to more than ever is Traveling Matt, perplexed by "Outer Space" and its absurdities.
I'm floating out here in Outer Space, fellow traveler, and I too fail to understand what I see.
That doesn't mean I care less for you, Gobo, with your Jonathan Larson-ish hair AND musical sensitivity.
And, oh, Red and Mokey- how torn I was between the two of you! Mokey, you were ugly, very ugly in fact, but you had the music, the poetry emanated from your half-lidded eyeballs. Red, you had the looks, you saucy little thing, but I knew that beyond your bad girl rebelliousness there was a little heart aching for help, and when you sung the Friendship Song, I reached out to the screen in pain, wanting to assure you I would always be your friend and my heartbreak was your heartbreak.
Wembley, Boober- what can I say, fellows? You guys are ME, all my neurotic indecisions and pragmatic depressions manifested in Muppet form, topped off with wildly colored shocks of hair or, in Boober's case, by that Bohemian cap designed to conceal his drugged-out eyes.
Hollywood has a new "Fraggle Rock" movie in the making. It will be bad: I don't think there's anyone left in that town both innocent and experienced enough to pull it off.
Here is the "Fraggle Rock" opening in Spanish, which is how I remember them best.