Constance Marks's documentary about Kevin Clash, the puppeteer behind the high-giggling and hug-happy little red monster who sits at the nexus of a public-television marketing dynamo, could easily be accused of being little more than a feature-length advertisement for said creature. It doesn't have any interest in posing the hard or even borderline difficult questions of its subject or digging into some of the complexities behind his puppet's appeal, and is so enraptured by Clash that there are numerous times when it seems he (a director and producer himself) is more the director than Marks. This doesn't make Being Elmo a bad film, just a mediocre one that could have tried for something more.
Clash's story is undeniably engaging. Growing up in a part of Baltimore
that doesn't seem to have been too poor but was certainly not well-off,
he didn't have much interest in things not involved with puppetry. Marks
doesn't have a difficult time finding people to talk about Clash in
those years, the shows he would put on for kids in the neighborhood and
the job he finagled himself at the local public television affiliate
once it was clear that no other career would suffice. Clash talks
good-naturedly about himself in those years, alluding frequently to a
sense of isolation and disconnectedness that puppetry helped assuage.
Being Elmo is frequently eloquent when it regards the close, skillful labor of artisans like Clash, who make their own puppets from any materials at hand and obsess over the slightest details, whether it's the size of a googly eyeball or the hue of a matted stretch of blue fur. We see Clash in a Paris studio supervising some of the puppeteers who are going to be animating the stars of the French version of Sesame Street, and the attention he brings to the slightest movement of the hand or wrinkle of a puppet's mouth evinces skill on a nearly savant level. The wealth of old PBS footage helps in this regard here, particularly when Marks shows how Clash took the puppet that became Elmo from a puppeteer who just couldn't get an angle on its character, raised his voice into the rafters, and created arguably the world's most well-known children's character. Something just clicked.
It's in this close world of artists, who must marry the minutely precise craftsman skills of the puppetmaker with the equally rigorous demands of the actor (who must not only get the voice right, but the character and soul of the puppet), that Marks' film is at its most attention-grabbing. Following Clash's ascension up the ranks, from The Great Space Coaster to Captain Kangaroo to his big break with Jim Henson, Marks shows over and over again the importance of mentoring in this narrow-band, ancient guild-like profession. Clash's relationship with Henson designer Kermit Love in particular, brings an emotional timbre to a film that can sometimes feel like Clash's video resume more than anything.
The phenomenon of Elmo is only briefly explored. Clash seems to understand the appeal of the little red ball of cuteness to his fans, particularly the terminally-ill children he constantly visits in character, noting that Elmo is all about unconditional love. It's the hug that does it, other puppets don't physically interact with humans as they do with each other in the way that the always happy and loveable Elmo does. But Being Elmo never delves too deep into this line of thought, as it does looking too deeply into Clash's psyche. An admitted workaholic and perfectionist, he seems only ever comfortable when performing as Elmo, an idealized paragon of good-natured generosity. This seeming clash is elided all too easily in a film that has a welcome appreciation of craft and skill but turns away at most opportunities from exploring the human drama that lies behind them.
Being Elmo is frequently eloquent when it regards the close, skillful labor of artisans like Clash, who make their own puppets from any materials at hand and obsess over the slightest details, whether it's the size of a googly eyeball or the hue of a matted stretch of blue fur. We see Clash in a Paris studio supervising some of the puppeteers who are going to be animating the stars of the French version of Sesame Street, and the attention he brings to the slightest movement of the hand or wrinkle of a puppet's mouth evinces skill on a nearly savant level. The wealth of old PBS footage helps in this regard here, particularly when Marks shows how Clash took the puppet that became Elmo from a puppeteer who just couldn't get an angle on its character, raised his voice into the rafters, and created arguably the world's most well-known children's character. Something just clicked.
It's in this close world of artists, who must marry the minutely precise craftsman skills of the puppetmaker with the equally rigorous demands of the actor (who must not only get the voice right, but the character and soul of the puppet), that Marks' film is at its most attention-grabbing. Following Clash's ascension up the ranks, from The Great Space Coaster to Captain Kangaroo to his big break with Jim Henson, Marks shows over and over again the importance of mentoring in this narrow-band, ancient guild-like profession. Clash's relationship with Henson designer Kermit Love in particular, brings an emotional timbre to a film that can sometimes feel like Clash's video resume more than anything.
The phenomenon of Elmo is only briefly explored. Clash seems to understand the appeal of the little red ball of cuteness to his fans, particularly the terminally-ill children he constantly visits in character, noting that Elmo is all about unconditional love. It's the hug that does it, other puppets don't physically interact with humans as they do with each other in the way that the always happy and loveable Elmo does. But Being Elmo never delves too deep into this line of thought, as it does looking too deeply into Clash's psyche. An admitted workaholic and perfectionist, he seems only ever comfortable when performing as Elmo, an idealized paragon of good-natured generosity. This seeming clash is elided all too easily in a film that has a welcome appreciation of craft and skill but turns away at most opportunities from exploring the human drama that lies behind them.
