The co-genius who loved him



Jim and Jane Henson

 Yesterday Jane Henson lost her battle to cancer nearly 23 years after losing her husband, Jim.  Together they created the Muppets and established a legacy.  The two met at a puppetry class and eventually married in 1959.  Jane worked behind the scenes, drafting talents and supporting Jim’s desire to cement puppetry as a respectable art form in both television and in the movies.  Although the two separated in 1986, Jane created the Jim Henson Foundation in 1991 shortly after her husband’s death and devoted her remaining decades to philanthropy. 

When we think of film legends (Walt Disney, Alfred Hitchcock, just to name a few) we hardly hear anything about their respected spouses.  In some cases, their wives are the silent heroes, for, without whom, I doubt Hitch or Disney would be the legends they are today.   

It’s sad to think that so few women have achieved the same level of success in almost every industry.  Even Hollywood (the unsung liberal role-model) remains one giant phallic symbol.  During the studio system, Warner, Paramount, MGM, Fox were ruled by one man.  Although each fell under the corporate machine, the movie giants remain gender-defined.  The sexism is most apparent in the way we perceive our stars.  The males are allowed to age; the women are demoted or thrown out completely the moment a wrinkle appears.  The cameras only stray from the male titans when their wives or girlfriends (or whatever George Clooney refers to Stacey Kiebler these days) are gorgeous.  If they’re simply brilliant, they’re ignored.    

Jim Henson was a genius.  When we think of him, we may also refer to his co-puppeteer and best friend, Frank Oz.  Or maybe the dozens of other male puppeteers who made Big Bird, Bert and Ernie and Miss Piggy feel alive.  But Jim was obviously nurtured through the trials of legitimizing puppetry.  Many of the tribute articles refer to Jane as Jim’s partner; one of the reasons the Muppets were ushered onto the world. 

So why wait until Jane’s death to pay homage? 

One of the reasons last year’s Hitchcock, which starred Anthony Hopkins and Helen Mirren, struck a chord with me — despite its impish script and bizarre subplot — was because it paid ode to Alma, Hitch’s wife of 53 years.  Having read much more about Hitch than Henson, I can attest that Alma deserves much of the praise for Master of Suspense’s legacy.  The two met when Hitch and Alma were beginning their careers during the silent film period.  Only after Hitch was promoted above Alma did he feel confident enough to ask her out.  In 1926, his inevitable career superiority was only a matter of time.

However, Hitch and Alma established a partnership that extended into his films.  Alma had full veto power over Hitchcock’s projects.  “If she didn’t like it, then Hitch didn’t touch it”, said their daughter Pat during an interview.  The best moments in the film Hitchcock show the rift (fiction or not) when Alma grows tired of living in her husband’s shadow.  Later, the two reunite when Hitch has trouble shaping Psycho into a great film.  Alma steps in and helps her husband mold the footage into a masterpiece.  The name Aflred Hitchcock was the product of two people.  At his AFI lifetime award tribute in 1979, the ailing Hitchcock stomached enough energy to say “I beg permission to mention by name only four people who have given me the most affection, appreciation, and encouragement, and constant collaboration. The first of the four is a film editor, the second is a scriptwriter, the third is the mother of my daughter Pat (Patricia Hitchcock), and the fourth is as fine a cook as ever performed miracles in a domestic kitchen. And their names are Alma Reville.”

Another genius, Stephen King, paid tribute to his wife, Tabitha, in his first book, “Carrie, after she fished out the first few pages he originally trashed and encourage him to finish it.  She nurtured him through bouts of alcoholism and is even a published author herself.  Despite lacking any level of prestige as her celebrity husband, Tabie quite possibly saved the career of one man and preserved a wealth of literacy for a generation. 

I don’t know much about Jane Henson, but I believe the dozens of photos tell a story. 

I may be dead wrong, but I see a woman who propped her husband up while his weary arm reached high above his head and brought life to a green sock with two ping pong eyes.  Jim Henson may have created magic three inches below the camera, but how many ladies have made the magic behind the camera?  For so many women, it’s not easy being green.

It may be 50 years late, but thank you, Jane.