Nothing can break my heart faster than seeing a sad Muppet.

When Kermit the Frog's felt-covered face somehow conveys nostalgia, regret and loss over the memories of bygone days, you can't help but be affected. That's impressive without the benefit of eyelids, tear ducts or special effects. (Take that you angsty, cross-eyed Twilight vampires!)

This universal humanness — captured in felt and foam — is the enduring magic of the Muppets. And once again, now and forever, they're back in a big way.

In the most important contribution to the Thanksgiving cinema offerings this year, Jason Segel's new visitation of the now Disney-owned franchise is an update on the loveable characters. A "Where are they now?" sort of film, in this version of the Muppets' reality, they kept living their lives after disbanding The Muppet Show that aired during the '70s and '80s.

(In this reality, the excellent and infinitely re-watchable The Great Muppet Caper and The Muppets Take Manhattan also exist. But apparently, we're supposed to ignore those less successful movie ventures like The Muppet Christmas Carol, Muppets from Space, and, sigh, Muppet Treasure Island.)

When the story's key protagonists meet up with Kermit, the Muppets have been separated for years and gone on to live their own lives. For example, Miss Piggy is now an editor for Vogue Paris, Fozzie is doing stand-up in Reno and Gonzo is a very successful toilet tycoon.

It all makes perfect sense for their characters, and the montage that reveals what the rest of the Muppet gang is doing is one of the funniest bits in the movie.

The Muppets eventually reunite for the purpose of a televised benefit show to save the old Muppet Theater, which is under threat by oil tycoon Tex Richman (played brilliantly villainously by Oscar-winner Chris Cooper), who plans to raze the theater and drill for oil. (In the middle of L.A., no less!)

Rashida Jones plays a television exec who begrudgingly gives the Muppets the opportunity to raise the funds, but warns Kermit and crew that they have to find a celebrity host to accomplish their task.

In classic Muppet movie style, droves of celebrities show up in cameo spots. Sarah Silverman, Donald Glover, Zach Galifinakis, Alan Arkin, Emily Blunt, Jim Parsons and Kristen Schaal are just a few of the major comedy names you'll see popping up in delightfully unexpected places. But the actual celebrity "guest" of the benefit show is the amazing and perfectly utilized Jack Black, who clearly knows a thing or two about acting with non-human stars.

Segel and Amy Adams play the primary non-Muppet protagonists, Gary and Mary, along with Gary's fraternal Muppet twin, Walter (voiced by longtime Muppeteer Peter Linz). Their personal storylines quietly underscore the primary conflict of the movie, never stealing the spotlight from the real stars of the show.

It's a smart update to introduce the sensitive every-Muppet Walter into the hand-operated fold, and the character's journey toward self-discovery is heartfelt and sincere.

The screenplay could not be any better for such a challenging and monumental project. I mean, who has the audacity to think they have something impressive enough to say about the Muppets that Jim Henson and his crew didn't already say and do 30 years ago?

Luckily, Segel and writing partner Nicholas Stoller's script is the perfect blend of loving tribute and meta comedy: clearly the work of genuine fans who saw an opportunity and stepped into it fearlessly.

Director James Bobin (known primarily as a comedy TV writer and director for shows likeFlight of the Conchords and Da Ali G Show) highlights the subtle, intimate movements that give the Muppets their human qualities. Kermit's whole head still constricts during his signature hard swallows, and a nervous Muppet will still exhibit a full-body quiver. No comic moment is ever missed, and the human players are just as malleable and hysterical as the already advantaged Muppets.

Segel showed his talent for puppet musical numbers in the Dracula song he wrote for the film Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Nothing came of that project, but it laid the groundwork for the catchy, danceable numbers in The Muppets involving hundreds of human and puppet performers.

The closing number was a bit over-the-top for my tastes, but I appreciate the statement it makes both as a reprise and as a comment on the enduring nature of the Muppets' popularity.

Amazingly, as if by magic, the movie somehow dodges the sheen of over-commercialized product placement and Hollywood schmaltz. I never once doubted the sincerity of the characters or their message about the value of being yourself, being an underdog or relying on your friends.

These were the messages that I took to heart as a kid watching The Muppet Show, Sesame Street and Muppet Babies. And I just got a memorable reminder from some of my favorite friends that, even though I've grown up, these notions hold true.

While Kermit's voice may have changed a bit, and their influence has become less immediately apparent, The Muppets establishes Jim Henson's characters as eternally relevant and comically profound. It probably feels pretty good being made of green felt, after all.