My Life as a Furry Red Monster - Kevin Clash [26]
After the curriculum goals are set, head writer Lou Berger and his staff then structure stories with two main goals in mind: to educate and to entertain. Writers work singly and in pairs, and also in larger groups, and they share ideas and stories from their own experiences and the lives of children they know. A tremendous amount of back-and-forth and revision goes into even the shortest segments.
At this point, they sometimes ask the performers for input—many times they ask me if Elmo is capable of performing a certain action. I explain what he might or might not be able to do. Obviously, this is an incredibly collaborative endeavor. Everyone must set his ego aside in order to produce the best possible show. We’re all involved in a fluid and fulfilling process with contributions from many minds, hearts, and experiences. Even when we have a final script, we’re not done creating, and that’s one of the great joys of working with Elmo on Sesame Street. During rehearsals, when we’re out on the floor blocking scenes and going over dialogue, we can branch off in new and unexpected ways, delighting and surprising the cast, crew, creative and curricular team, producers, and ultimately our viewers. We regularly test content with those viewers—children are our best critics and teachers.
To some people, the technical side of a television production like Sesame Street may not seem as creative as elements such as the writing, acting, art direction, and puppeteering. But technology offers some amazing ways for us to expand the content. Advances in technology have meant increasing demands on the staff to keep up, but they’ve done so beautifully. I have an Elmo that I manipulate with my hand like a traditional puppet (I actually have nine Elmos, all of them capable of doing different actions). And now I also have an Elmo who is radio-controlled, not unlike a radio-controlled airplane.
It would be nice to think that there are no limits on our creativity at Sesame Street, but unfortunately, there is one: money. When we are trying to increase our use of technology behind the scenes, we sometimes hit a financial hurdle. After I’d done The Adventures of Elmo in Grouchland in 1999, which was Elmo’s first movie, I really wanted to have a radio-controlled Elmo like the one we had made for the film. For the first time, I had been able to puppeteer Elmo without actually being underneath him, as I usually am.
I wanted to take that technology a step further, and I wanted an Elmo who could ride a tricycle on Sesame Street. In fact, I found and purchased what I thought was the perfect trike when I was in L.A. It wasn’t just an ordinary red tricycle; it was a bright, multicolored design that fit the whole look of “Elmo’s World.” And another plus: It was adjustable with a frame and seat that could be expanded or made smaller, depending on the size of the rider. Of course, it had been designed for a growing child, but I thought it could be made just the right size for Elmo. Jason Weber, creative supervisor for the Jim Henson Company, and I made the request, but the production budget didn’t allow for it. Finally, two years after I had put it on my wish list, complete with additional requests and follow-up reminders on file, we got the green light and funding to create our trike-riding Elmo.
I worked closely with Tom Newby, the genius electronic craftsman who designed and supervised the building of this new full-body Elmo, to make Elmo’s movements seem natural and fluid. Finally, I got the call that our new friend was ready to go for a spin