TL;DR: The Muppet Show’s Disney+ special is a warm, funny, irony-free return to form that understands these characters better than most modern attempts. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel—it remembers why the wheel worked. Disney should stop experimenting and give this format a permanent home.

For most of my adult life, loving The Muppets has felt a little like being the last guy still repping a band that everyone else insists peaked decades ago. You know the feeling. You bring them up at a party, people smile politely, maybe quote “Manamana,” and then gently change the subject like you’ve just admitted you still collect physical media. Since Disney acquired the characters in 2004, The Muppets have existed in a perpetual state of almost—almost relevant, almost back, almost figured out. A promising movie here, a short-lived series there, and then… silence. Rinse. Repeat.

That’s why sitting down to watch the new special event revival of The Muppet Show on Disney+ felt strangely emotional. Not in a “this changed my life” way, but in that low-key, deeply nerdy sense of relief when a franchise finally remembers what it is. This isn’t a reinvention. It’s not a gritty reboot. It’s not The Muppets Does TikTok Algorithms. It’s just The Muppet Show, unapologetically doing The Muppet Show things in 2026—and shockingly, gloriously, it still works.

I’ll get this out of the way early: this special should absolutely be enough to bring the gang back permanently. Not because it’s flawless, but because it understands the assignment in a way Disney has consistently struggled with for over twenty years.

The Return to the Muppet Theater Feels Like Coming Home

The moment the curtain rises on the Muppet Theater, something in my brain relaxes. It’s like muscle memory for joy. Kermit walks out, delivers a perfectly self-aware introduction about how the show started here, ended here, came back, went away again, and might be starting again depending on how tonight goes—and boom, I’m in. That one line alone does more tonal heavy lifting than entire seasons of previous Disney-era experiments.

This special doesn’t waste time explaining itself or reintroducing the concept. There’s no “for the modern audience” framing device. No mockumentary confessionals. No meta-commentary about relevance. It just drops you into a familiar rhythm: backstage chaos, questionable production decisions, performers who barely tolerate each other, and a sense that everything could collapse at any second. That tension between professionalism and complete anarchy has always been the secret sauce of The Muppet Show, and it’s intact here.

Visually, the production looks crisp without feeling overproduced. The lighting still feels theatrical rather than cinematic, which matters more than you’d think. This isn’t supposed to feel like prestige TV. It’s supposed to feel like a slightly underfunded variety show being held together by duct tape, optimism, and Kermit’s fraying nerves. Mission accomplished.

Sabrina Carpenter Gets the Joke, and That’s Half the Battle

Guest star chemistry has always been the make-or-break element of The Muppet Show, and this is where Sabrina Carpenter quietly nails it. She doesn’t play herself as above the chaos, nor does she overcompensate by mugging for the camera. She just… participates. That sounds basic, but it’s rare.

Her performance of “Manchild” staged in a bar run by Sam the Eagle, complete with chicken backup singers, is exactly the kind of controlled absurdity this format thrives on. It’s funny without trying too hard to be viral, musical without feeling like a cross-promotion obligation. There’s a duet later with Kermit that feels so naturally Muppet-y it almost tricks your brain into thinking it’s a deep-cut rerun from the late ’70s.

Elsewhere, the special throws in delightful nonsense like Rizzo the Rat belting out The Weeknd’s “Blinding Lights” for reasons that are never explained and absolutely shouldn’t be. Statler and Waldorf remain flawless agents of chaos, delivering heckles that feel updated just enough to sting without sounding like someone’s uncle discovering Twitter for the first time.

The lack of irony is the most refreshing thing here. This special doesn’t wink at the camera and say “can you believe we’re doing this?” It assumes you’re on board, and if you are, the reward is genuine comfort food television.

A Creative Team That Actually Loves the Muppets (Imagine That)

One of the biggest problems with past Muppets projects hasn’t been talent—it’s been intent. Too often, the creative vision felt like “how do we make The Muppets fit into something else?” instead of “how do we make something that fits The Muppets?” This special finally flips that equation.

The writers come from a background steeped in sketch comedy and character-driven humor, and you can feel that lineage in every beat. The jokes aren’t trying to chase trends; they’re built around timing, personality, and the inherent ridiculousness of these felt icons taking themselves very seriously. Director Alex Timbers brings just enough theatrical flair to keep things lively without overpowering the material.

Seth Rogen’s presence as an executive producer and on-screen punching bag works precisely because he understands his role in the ecosystem. He’s not there to dominate the episode; he’s there to get cut from the show and look mildly offended about it. That’s the correct use of Seth Rogen in a Muppet context.

Most importantly, the special radiates affection. You can feel that everyone involved wants these characters to succeed, not as a nostalgia product, but as a living, flexible format that still has room to grow.

Why the Old Format Still Works in 2026

There’s a temptation in modern TV to assume that older formats need radical updating to survive. This special quietly proves the opposite. The variety show structure—host, sketches, musical numbers, backstage antics—is evergreen because it’s modular. You can swap in new performers, new references, new music, and the core engine still runs.

Watching this felt weirdly similar to watching Saturday Night Live on a good week. Not because the comedy is identical, but because the vibe is the same: a familiar framework that allows for experimentation within boundaries. Some sketches land harder than others. Some jokes make you groan. That’s part of the deal. Perfection has never been the goal. Personality has.

And honestly, in an era of hyper-polished streaming content designed to be binge-consumed and forgotten, there’s something radical about a show that’s okay with being a little cheesy. The Muppets have always thrived in that space between sincerity and satire. This special understands that balance in a way recent attempts simply didn’t.

The Emotional Core That Still Hits

There’s a moment near the end where everything comes together—the cast, the guest, the music—and it hits me why this matters. The Muppets aren’t just characters. They’re a community. A weird, dysfunctional, deeply supportive community that’s been modeled for generations of viewers.

I kept thinking about Jim Henson and that famous sentiment he shared during A Muppet Family Christmas: he liked seeing his characters having a good time together. That ethos is baked into this special. It’s not cynical. It’s not embarrassed. It’s joyful in a way that feels increasingly rare.

Will every joke land for every viewer? No. Will some people call it corny? Absolutely. But that corniness is part of the charm. It’s the price of sincerity, and I’ll take that over another half-baked attempt to make The Muppets “cool” any day of the week.

Verdict: Bring Them Back, Disney

If Disney is serious about keeping The Muppets alive as more than just brand mascots and theme park nostalgia, the path forward is right here. This special doesn’t just work—it reminds you why The Muppet Show worked in the first place. It trusts the format, trusts the characters, and trusts the audience to meet it where it is.

More importantly, it feels sustainable. You could absolutely build a full season around this exact approach, refining the writing, rotating guests, and letting the ensemble breathe. The foundation is solid. The love is there. All that’s missing is commitment.