Humorous Factor: 8.5

Immaturity Factor: 2.0

Disturbing Factor: 6.0

Queasiness Factor: 1.0

Abnormality Factor: 4.4

While I hate to admit it, even in my most feverish nightmare, I have to agree with Pop Culture Ninja when he expresses that H.R. PufnStuf should be on the top 10 list of retro movies ready for a big screen remake.  The fact that he lists it as number one, I believe, does this strange series, not born out of the pits of Tartarus, but of the minds of two gents named Sid and Marty Kroft, great justice.

Here’s why.

Growing up I was too young to enjoy the series in its first run.  It’s a good thing my parents didn’t plop me down for an episode or two like I did with my kids and Teletubbies, for surely my infant brain would have melted.  (Apologies to my kids here).  I did catch it in reruns, though.  And I’m glad I did.

Every episode I would sit enrapt by the struggle of Jimmy, H.R. Pufnstuf and his gang to protect Jimmy’s dearly loved magical talking flute named Freddy from Witchie-Poo.  Basically it was a battle between the good, Jimmy, Freddy, the titular H.R Pufnstuff, and Cling and Clang, and the bad, Witchie-Poo, the vulture, the spider, and the bat.  This is exactly what my still forming neurons needed to make me who I am today.  And the fantastical trippy set pieces never disappointed.

With that said, there was always a certain amount of queasiness I experienced when I saw Jimmy, I’m assuming because of his outfit, Freddy (who wouldn’t feel disturbed by a shimmery golden talking flute?), H.R. Pufnstuf–who knew at my age that he was a dragon?–and especially Witchie-Poo and her Vroom Broom who made the Wicked Witch of the West look like a grandmotherly type who made the most awesome oatmeal cookies one has ever tasted.

Kudos to you Mr. And Mr. Kroft for making my childhood a lot more interesting and substantially more surreal.  Your brainchild deserves a big theater wide release.  Shoot for the stars, or at least Living Island, with an IMAX/3D release.