MARVIN SUGGS

12 points of articulation.
Turns : wrists, waist, hips.
Bends : knees.
Ball-joints : shoulders, neck, elbows.

In the opening pages of Michael Moorcock's Elric saga, Moorcock describes the kingdom of Melniboné, and a chorus of slaves whose vocal chords have been cut and re-structured so that they can each emit a single, different note when injured, thus creating an unearthly symphony of artful cruelty. While Marvin Suggs employs similar techniques in getting his Muppaphones to produce music, I'm assuming that they just grow in the wild like that, like those beautiful truffula trees. This is, after all, the Muppets. Invasive surgery isn't usually on the menu unless it has some wildly comedic end that only puppets could successfully convey.

Suggs, flamboyant malleted musician, is first and foremost, flamboyant. Of course, because fate doth weigh heavily upon me, I ended up randomly getting the Suggs repaint, which is done up in grey tones. No myriad of technicolor sleeves has he, but at least he's color coordinated with his instrument. The instrument base reminds me of the decor of the elementary school music room, all black music notes tacked to the walls and instrument charts and me unable to get the breathing into my recorder right, and Mr. Schwinger, a tall, balding, mustachioed, bespectacled man who often stepped in the garbage pail to make us laugh. Ha ha, Mr. Schwinger. Ha. You're probably dead now, in a heaven all your own, a garbage pail at every step.

Now that I think of it, if they ever made an action figure of Mr. Schwinger, it would look very much like Marvin Suggs. You know, when they make the 'Great Music Teachers of the Hudson Valley' line. I'd collect them all - the obese Mr. Meerwarth who thought that the Grateful Dead was devil music, the slight and twitchy Mr. Groarke (who would come with a CD of his band, Irish Mist), Mr. Sine, and the San Diego ComicCon exclusive, Mr. 'Flip' Fillipelli, who was more of a stage director and apprentice Hutt, but liked to think that he could make people sing better anyhow.

Suggs, who is unexciting as a repaint, nevertheless has a fine deal of personality. His skin is a solid blue without any drybrushing, and the solid black hair on and around his head is sculpted with a lot of energy and awareness of making him look unbrushed. Solid colors just work better on muppet skintones. All of his many ruffles are nicely done, if not a bit thick, and give him a good deal of volume in the upper body. It makes him have less than perfect balance, but he can be manipulated to stand straight. Kinda like my... nah, that one's too easy.

While his silver stripes are painted on with surprising clarity, the shoulder joints have an unfortunate peeling problem. Since this grey isn't the basic figure color, the plastic beneath is a bright orange, which looks glaringly awful. The paint also has left a dark line around Suggs' neck, not unlike the issue with Tux Beaker. Because of the thickness of the sleeves, the motion of the figure (except for the shoulders) is pretty limited. I'm still trying to grasp the concept of knees for those figures with no opportunity to use them. They're vestigial, like my appendix or my Cowper's gland. Look it up.

He's also wearing suit pants, which do not necessitate discussion, but I'm giving a paragraph to anyhow, because it makes the review run longer. Like this.

The figure comes with two mallets, which can be popped into his hands without much trouble, and an array of six different Muppaphones in pink and orange, all of whom peg into their hollow stand, which is very nicely done in silver and glittery black. If anything every wanted a sound chip, this is it. A series of six pitched groans. That's all I ask.

I'd like Marvin more if I didn't get the blasted repaint. He's a fan favorite, and Palisades is nothing if not responsive to the desires of the fans, and since people are inherently sadistic and find humor in pain that is not theirs, we have Marvin.

And now, another visit to Krakensylvania.

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