"Dinosaurs" Remember that Crazy TV Series???

In honor of the latest Jurassic World installment (Rebirth, of course—because branding), it would’ve been too easy to jump into a list of badass movie dinosaurs: your T-Rexes, your Raptors, your stop-motion Harryhausen marvels.

And I will get to that—hell, send me your favorite dino flicks at nick@nickdigilio.com, and let’s do that list. But first, I need to talk about Dinosaurs.

No, not the ones that chase screaming scientists in khaki shorts. I’m talking about the 1991 ABC television sitcom. The one with Muppets. The one with shocking social satire. The one that, somehow, ended in a bleak Ice Age that wiped out every character you loved. Yeah. That Dinosaurs.

A Henson Fever Dream Come to Life

The show was born from the mind of Jim Henson, and if that surprises you, then clearly you haven’t been paying attention to the gloriously weird underbelly of Henson’s career. Forget Kermit and Miss Piggy for a second. Henson was never afraid to go dark, strange, or socially incisive, and Dinosaurs is proof of that.

Developed just before his death in 1990, the show finally came to life with Disney backing and Kirk Thatcher’s puppet designs breathing bizarre brilliance into every scale and squawk.

The result? A sitcom set 60 million years ago featuring a fully animatronic dinosaur family with names like Earl, Fran, Robbie, Charlene, and the immortal Baby Sinclair—whose relentless “Not the Mama!” became a generational war cry of toddler chaos.

Sitcom Setup, Satirical Punch

Here’s the magic trick: Dinosaurs is your standard family sitcom on the surface. You’ve got your clueless, grumpy dad (Earl Sinclair, voiced by Stuart Pankin), the sensible mom (Fran, voiced by Jessica Walter), the moody teen son, the vain daughter, the sarcastic grandma in a wheelchair.

It’s The Flintstones by way of All in the Family, except done with Muppets and some seriously twisted takes on everything from consumerism to racism to environmental collapse.

And yeah, it’s all presented through these beautifully expressive puppets—massive animatronic suits operated with the kind of artistry you just don’t see anymore. Henson’s team (with Brian Henson at the helm) built these characters to emote with freaky precision.

Their eyes moved, their mouths matched every syllable, and you actually believed Baby Sinclair might chuck a frying pan at his dad’s head.

Topics No Other Sitcom Dared Touch

You think Boy Meets World tackled tough issues? Please. Dinosaurs went full throttle. They did episodes about steroid abuse, sexual harassment, vegetarianism as a metaphor for homosexuality, the Gulf War (disguised as a pistachio dispute), government propaganda, the objectification of women, and even blind religious zealotry in the form of Potato-ism.

There’s an episode where they literally tackle masturbation by framing it as “the solo mating dance.” Another where the lovable family gets swept into televangelist grift. One where Robbie eats vegetables and everyone reacts like he’s joined a cult. It was insane. It was brilliant.

And it was all done with brightly colored puppets wearing flannel shirts and Dockers.

Meta Comedy and Muppet Mayhem

What really set Dinosaurs apart was its ability to balance the ridiculous and the poignant. One minute you’re watching a Barney parody named “Blarney” get roasted by the Sinclair family for being a useless TV character, the next minute you’re crying about environmental devastation.

The show broke the fourth wall, made fun of its own medium, and constantly winked at the audience. One of my favorite recurring gags: when Captain Action Figure appears during kids’ programming and the screen flashes “Tell Mommy I WANT THAT!” If that isn’t the most accurate satire of capitalist marketing ever, I don’t know what is.

The Finale That Destroyed Us All

But let’s talk about the finale—Changing Nature—because no essay about Dinosaurs is complete without it.

In what may be the darkest, ballsiest, most utterly depressing series finale in television history, the show ends with the extinction of the dinosaur race.

No redemption, no last-minute save, no Disney miracle. Just snow. Cold. Silence. Death. You sit there stunned, watching a sitcom wrap up by telling kids, “Hey, maybe if we don’t stop screwing up the planet, we’ll die too.”

It hit me hard when I watched it back in the early '90s—and it still does. You don’t forget a moment like that. Nobody does. It’s the kind of ending that would absolutely break the internet if it aired today. A moral gut punch wrapped in felt and latex.

A Legacy of Weirdness and Wonder

The show ran for four seasons—from 1991 to 1994—and while it suffered from time-slot shuffles and its notoriously high production cost (those puppets didn’t come cheap), it built a passionate cult following. It’s all on Disney+ and Hulu now, which is great, because this thing deserves to be rediscovered, rewatched, and reassessed.

With a voice cast that included Sally Struthers, Sherman Hemsley, Jason Alexander, Tim Curry, and a whole parade of legendary guest voices, the performances were stellar. And the writing? Surprisingly sharp for a show where the lead actor’s face doesn’t move on its own.

Final Thoughts from a Dino-Loving Critic

Look—I watched Dinosaurs religiously when it aired. Sometimes I laughed. Sometimes I stared in disbelief. Sometimes I thought, “How the hell did this get made?” But I was always entertained. Always intrigued. Always in awe of its daring.

It’s a puppet sitcom that somehow felt more real than half the live-action shows that were on the air at the time. And it’s one of those cultural oddities that makes me proud to have lived through the weirder side of network television.

So if you like Muppets, like risk-taking TV, like your comedy weird and your lessons gut-punchingly real—go watch Dinosaurs. Just maybe have a comfort blanket ready for that final episode.

And remember: NOT THE MAMA.

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