A young boy named Jimmy has in his possession a magic flute named Freddie that can talk and play tunes on its own. One day he gets on a magic talking boat that promises to take him on an ... See full summary »
A young boy named Jimmy has in his possession a magic flute named Freddie that can talk and play tunes on its own. One day he gets on a magic talking boat that promises to take him on an adventure. The boat happens to belong to a wicked witch named Witchiepoo, who uses the boat to kidnap Jimmy and take him to her home base on Living Island, where she hopes to steal Freddie for her own selfish needs. Fortunately Jimmy is rescued by the island's mayor, a six foot dragon named H.R. Pufnstuf. After Jimmy is rescued by Pufnstuf and his two deputies, Kling and Klang, his adventures begin as well as his attempts to get back home. Written by
Brian Washington <Sargebri@att.net>
In spite of the show's seeming drug imagery (the psychedelic landscape, an episode prominently involving magic mushrooms, a character whose name is basically "Puffin' Stuff") creators Sid Krofft and Marty Krofft vehemently deny any drug connection. See more »
[Witchiepoo has been frozen by the North Wind]
I've seen Popsicles in my day, but this is the first time that I've ever seen a WITCH-sicle!
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This show, and many other Krofft programs (i.e. Lidsville and Land of the Lost), scared the hell out of me. In 1979 HR was deep in syndication, but that didn't stop a 4 year old from finding it. You'd sit down and watch, allured by the surreality, the "stranger in a strange land" themes and the larger than life puppet-like characters. You'd expect a benign Sesame Street-like program full of soft freindly characters. But in the land of Krofft all things are slightly twisted, mysterious, surreal. Just look at the expressions they've sewn into the faces of the characters. Dark man, dark. You'd be a little tense for the first 15 minutes, but then Freddy the Flute would bite Witchiepoo on the finger or some hitherto inanimate object would turn around and talk and freak the hell out of you, push you right over the cliff into full throttle terror... I remember crying hysterically and trying explain to my grandmother the freaky stuff that just went down on TV. She probably thought I was crazy. This stuff permeated my dreams and nightmares for years. I deeply repressed all things Krofft and then around age 20 learned that this show actually existed. Boy was I relieved, I hadn't made it all up. Absolutely priceless program, I've got some on tape.
Remember the sleestak? Enik? Chaka? That's a whole nother source of Freudian terror.
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