(originally aired May 21, 1995)
Man, I wish I hadn’t been a young’n when the “Who Shot Mr. Burns?” saga was underway. From what I read of it, it was quite the event, with widespread debate and discussion amongst fans regarding the mystery. The only two-part episode in the show’s history, it rides the line of being a gimmick episode, and being a parody of one. There was a lot of real promotional tie-in stuff around this “event,” but the episodes themselves were filled with enough winking nods that they didn’t feel disingenuous (the conceit itself is a parody of the “Who Shot J.R.?” mystery from Dallas). But audience reaction to this event episode only came from how solid and well crafted it was. Such great care was put into setting up clues, giving every character a motive, and ending on a note where there’s no real definite suspect. Yet even with all the information to be fed and groundwork to be set, it all feels cohesive, and more importantly, it still feels like The Simpsons, with plenty of funny bits that work in tandem with the dramatic parts. These are undeniably landmark episodes of the series, put together with great attention to detail, and absolute treats to watch unfold.

Oil is struck at Springfield Elementary, much to the thrill of Principal Skinner, and to much chagrin of Mr. Burns and his energy monopoly within the town. Through slanted drilling, he manages to tap the oil before the school does, resulting in many catastrophic events that cripple the denizens of Springfield. Saddled with the cost of drilling, Skinner has to lay off Willie and new music instructor Tito Puente. A jettison of oil from Burns’s drill destroys Bart’s treehouse, injuring him and his dog. Fumes from the rig end up condemning Moe’s, leaving Moe out of work and Barney out of booze. Underground drilling creates a fault line under the retirement home, bringing half the building into the ground. Not even the tireless sycophant Smithers can stand for this level of dastardly deeds, resulting in his termination. Burns completes his comprehensive takeover of the town’s resources by blocking out the sun, keeping its citizens totally reliant on his power supply. It’s soon after that the most hated man in Springfield is shot by an unidentified assailant, leaving him to collapse on the town square.

Most of the town’s hatred of Burns comes through chain reactions of his rampant greed, self-serving nature and desire for unchecked power. And while his plan and execution of blocking out the sun might be a little silly (or as Smithers puts it, a cross over into cartoonish supervillainy), it works perfectly as the proverbial last straw; with no natural light, the entire town is completely at Burns’s mercy. The two seeming front runners for the gunman are the two with personal grudges toward Burns. First is Smithers, whose conscious is racked through the entire episode until he is quickly fired after daring to finally say no regarding the sun scheme. Second is Homer, who falls into a manic state because Burns continuously doesn’t remember his name. It’s sort of the last hurrah for this long running joke, being pushed way over the top until Homer just loses it. The climax at the town hall meeting is one of the greatest scenes in the entire series, where the town is so impassioned in their unified hatred, while Burns just eats it up, loving every minute of it (as he wonderfully puts it, foreshadowing the ending, “You all talk big, but who here has the guts to stop me?”) I knew the conclusion before I watched the first part, but I really wish I didn’t. There’s so many hints and clues to extrapolate from, the most damning being Burns’s missing revolver, that it would have been neat to be a part of unraveling this mystery. Of course the big reveal is something no one ever suspected, but more on that later.

Tidbits and Quotes
– Wonderful sequence of Burns’s important piece of postage exchanging hands, with great music and dizzying use of alliteration (“Profoundly pressing package of power plant profit projections for Pete Porter in Pasadena.” “Priority?” “Precisely.”) This also effectively starts Homer’s growing antagonism for Burns when the letter ends up with him, who rushes it to his boss’s office, only having read the return address. Burns is not pleased.
– There’s some great Skinner-Chalmers stuff in here (“Why is it when I heard the word ‘school’ and the word ‘exploded,’ I immediately thought of the word ‘Skinner!‘”) The two laugh uproariously at the suggestion they use the oil money to give the students college scholarships, and there’s a hilarious back and forth when Skinner blocks out the first word of a newspaper headline “Awful School Is Awful Rich.” (“An unrelated article. Within the banner headline.”) It’s very similar rhythm-wise to the later “steamed hams” discussion in “22 Short Films About Springfield.”
– Great montage of requests from the students and faculty: Lunchlady Doris is a highlight (“The cafeteria staff is complaining about the mice in the kitchen. I wanna hire a new staff.”) Requests from Otto (“You know those guitars that are like… double guitars?”) Ralph (“Chocolate microscopes?”), and Skinner (“More rubber stamps,”) are also granted.
– I love Burns’s truly pitiful disguise to trick Skinner, and the principal’s deadpan affirmative stance against him (“I’ve got a monopoly to maintain! I own the electric company, and the water works, plus the hotel on Baltic Avenue!” “That hotel’s a dump and your monopoly’s pathetic.”) Burns’s pathetic attempts to attack Skinner, and Smithers coming at him with the stapler is just icing on the cake (“Please don’t waste those.”)
– Smithers’s turn against Burns is gradual through the show, and believable in his character: he’s fine with Burns’s ruthless practices in the workplace, since that’s all business, but his attempts at robbing a local school of funds it desperately needs is going too far.
– Great sequence of Burns and Smithers eating chocolates, with Burns identifying each Simspon on the photo inside, except Homer, of course, whose face remained obscured by, of all things, a sour quince log. I don’t even know what quince is, but it sounds disgusting. The payoff is phenomenal when Homer gets a thank you note, but realizes his name isn’t included. He holds the paper up to his face and reads, then lowers it and his pupils get smaller. Sending the kids out of the room, he takes a deep breath, then… “Ffff-” Church bells chime and the entire neighborhood is stunned, including Ned Flanders (“Dear lord, that’s the loudest profanity I’ve ever heard!”)
– Great “Aye carumba!” from Tito Puente when they announce someone’s tapped the school’s oil.
– Classic Burns line preparing for his oil rig to burst (“Ah, soon that mighty apparatus will burst forth with its precious fluid. Almost sexual, isn’t it, Smithers?”) A still dissatisfied Smithers can only muster a murmur at his beloved’s blatant entendre.
– Classic Willie line upon his termination (“I’ll kill that Mr. Burns! And, er, wound that Mr. Smithers!”)
– Moe’s becomes certifiably toxic from Burns’s oil rig. Barney comments, “These fumes aren’t as fun as beer. Sure, I’m all dizzy and nauseous, but where’s the inflated sense of self-esteem?”  Scientists in hazmat suits then enter (“Man alive! There are… men alive in here!”) and shut down the bar, prompting Moe and Barney to wield their own guns (“Ahhh, now there’s the inflated sense of self-esteem!”)
– I love how everything is set up fluidly, even the mention of the sundial as Smithers protests Burns’s master plan (“Every plant and tree will die, owls will deafen us with incessant hooting, the town’s sundial will be useless!”)
– Homer’s descent into madness is fantastic, picturing multiple Burnses popping up in his car running through the thesaurus of insulting names to call him. He arrives at the plant and in large letters in Burns’s office spray paints “I AM HOMER SIMPSON.” Burns arrives, and of course, as flat as possible, asks, “Who the devil are you?” Homer snaps, and runs across the office (accompanied with a great camera move) and accosts Burns, only to be led out by security. It’s a bit outlandish, but I still believe Homer’s reached his breaking point.
– Stuck at the Simpson home, Grampa gets a great scene where Bart finds his old Smith & Wesson (“If you’re gonna play with it, be careful, ’cause its loaded.”) Marge finds it, and is understandably shocked. Abe retorts, “How can you have a house without a gun? What if a bear came through that door?”
– The town hall meeting starts out strong (“We’re all upset about Mr. Burns’s plan to, uh, block out our sun. It is time for decisive action. I have here a polite but firm letter to Mr. Burns’s underlings, who with some cajoling, will pass it along to him or at least give him the gist of it.”) During Quimby’s speech, we cut to shots of a bunch of hands brandishing guns, which the mayor’s aide quickly informs him of (“Also it has been brought to my attention that a number of you are stroking guns. Therefore I will step aside and open up the floor.”)
– After Burns arrives, and then flashes his weapon at a small child, the tension just builds and builds as the townspeople threaten the old man, and I love love love that in all of it, Flanders steps up and asks, “I’d like to hear from Sideshow Mel!” You know what? I would too, because I love that voice. Mel doesn’t disappoint, wielding a switchblade (“I’ll see to it that Mr. Burns suffers the infernal machinations of hell’s grim tyrant!”)
– Great subtle clue that Burns’s jacket swishes open as he swirls around the lamp post, reminding you the gun is still there, then later when he collapses, it’s not.
– We end on a great call to arms from the fans to get involved in solving this mystery, as Hibbert seemingly asks the audience if they can solve the mystery. Actually he’s just pointing at Wiggum (“Yeah, I’ll give it a shot, I mean, you know, it’s my job, right?”)

Season 6 Final Thoughts
After a relatively insane season 5, I feel like things sort of leveled out and got a bit more grounded here in season 6. There were some wild bits, sure, but we got a fair share of episodes that were very down-to-earth stories (“Bart’s Girlfriend,” “Lisa’s Rival,” “Lisa on Ice,” etc.) Even episodes that were pretty out there like “Homie the Clown” still focused on the characters and felt very genuine. I guess largely this was a very character driven season: Homer’s relationship with his father, we delve in Marge’s troubled past, Bart and Lisa go mad in their own ways without school, and a look into the future at Lisa’s first love. Even without the change of show runners yet, it feels like one season segues into the next; Bill Oakley and Josh Weinstein’s seasons are noted as being more emotional, and this feels like a balance between David Mirkin’s insanity and the more level-headed stuff of season 7. Still, great, great, great, great stuff. Great.

The Best
“Treehouse of Horror V,” “Homer Bad Man,” “Homie the Clown,” “Bart vs. Austrailia,” “Lisa’s Wedding”

The Worst
“Another Simpsons Clip Show” by default, but as a clip show, I barely count it.

(originally aired May 14, 1995)
Shelbyville is probably one of my favorite overall elements of the series, this neighboring town that the people of Springfield needlessly vilify to assert themselves to a higher plane. In this episode, we find out the origins of the towns (with the reasoning of their divide being just as stupid), and, more enlightening, that the Shelbyvillians are just as spiteful and vindictive as their neighbors. It’s just one never-ending feud over inconsequential matters, with each party too pig-headed to realize how stupid it all is. This is the quintessential Springfield-Shelbyville episode, that does a great job examining the dynamics between the two towns and how each side is equally as foolish.

Through his mother’s repetitious urgings, Bart is instilled with a renewed sense of town pride, just in time to find punk kids from Shelbyville have taken off with their beloved lemon tree. In response, he forms a ragtag group of kids to venture into uncharted territory to get back what’s theirs. Before this, we have the scene where the two groups of kids meet at the city line, and it sets the stage perfectly: their childish back-and-forths and swipes at each other fit, but it’s also just interesting that they’re fighting over something they have no real consciousness about. Hatred of their neighbors is something just instilled to them by their parents, they’re unknowing pawns in this ongoing stupidness. To push this artificial rivalry further, Shelbyville appears to be full of “evil” parallels, with the main kid Shelby being like a bastardized Bart (and his father as well, adapting Homer’s original Walter Mattheu-like voice). The petty rivalry between Springfield and Shelbyville is one I felt could have been explored a lot further in future episodes, but in a way, I think this one kind of ruined it by making it so ridiculously over-the-top. Would you want to see an episode featuring the goings-ons of Joe’s Tavern and a gender-swapped Willie? No, but it works spectacularly for that one stupid joke.

Soon enough the Springfield parents get involved in tracking down their kids, and then they quickly learn of the abducted lemon tree. Homer’s mindset is brilliantly encapsulated in the few scenes where they find the kids: he’s initially angry and lecturing to his son, then upon hearing Shelbyville stole the lemon tree, immediately switches gears and channels his anger toward that. I’m sure Homer didn’t even know there was a lemon tree in Springfield; all he knows is Shelbyville took it and it’s theirs, goddammit. Shelbyville may seem more antagonistic than Springfield, but the latter did burn down the former’s city hall, so both cities are pretty reprehensible. The plot basically would have been the same if the cities were reversed, but not quite as satisfying for us. Throughout all the silly assholery in this universe, we’re still pleased as punch as the Flanders RV drives the lemon tree back through the city line… and laugh when they inadvertently damage a large portion of their sacred icon.

Tidbits and Quotes
– Nice ridiculous fantasy of Bart imagining being labeled a future God by writing his name in wet cement (“He must have been much smarter than his sister Lisa, about whom we know nothing.”) They’re an advanced civilization who can bring a person back to life with what must only be a speck of DNA, but are absolutely amazed by a simple yo-yo trick.
– I like the quick montage of Bart and Milhouse running to the lemon tree, with Milhouse repeatedly stumbling and injuring himself over nice, light music. It’s not really emphasized as a joke, it’s just kind of there, just a quick illustration over the disparity between hero and sidekick. This ain’t Milhouse’s show.
– Because the kids know nothing about the ongoing feud, they must invent stuff to be angry about on their level. Milhouse accuses the Shelbyville kids of copying their own habit of wearing their backpacks over one shoulder. He’s rather incensed about it (“Step over this line and say that! I’ll kick your butt! …at Nintendo.”)
– Grampa regales the kids with the story of the origin of the two towns (“Hey everybody! An old man’s talking!”) If the name Jebediah Springfield wasn’t silly enough, his partner was Shelbyville Manhattan, who believed the whole reason for their journey was to form a town where one could marry one’s cousin. Jebediah asks why on earth one would want to do that; Shelbyville responds, “Because they’re so attractive.” That tears it, and the two split up their parties (“The town of Springfield was born on that day, and to mark that sweet moment, our people planted this lemon tree, lemons being the sweetest fruit available at the time.”)
– Great bit where Nelson calls the kids out of class, it’s an emergency and no time to explain. This works when you have an immediate cut to them arriving at their destination, but we see them running downtown and Nelson stopping at a drinking fountain (“I said there’s no time to explain and I stick by that!”)
– The lemon tree is gone, and Bart vows to get it back (“That lemon tree’s a part of our town, and as kids, the backbone of our economy. We’ll get it back, or choke their rivers with our dead!”) At home, Bart tells his mother her speech about town pride really stuck and he’s going to go teach some Shelbyville kids a lesson. Marge is none the wiser (“I choose to take that literally!”) Outside, Bart yells, “Death to Shelbyville!” Homer goes along with his wife’s interpretation (“Tute on, son! Tute on!”)
– I love the quick fantasy Milhouse has, that his camo outfit will give him Cheshire Cat-like abilities (“Over here, my friends! Or is it over here?”)
– Milhouse seems to be the most irritated of all of the kids, but I feel he’s putting some of it on just to seem ramped up about the mission (“The kid with the backpack said ‘radical.’ I say ‘radical.’ That’s my thing that I say! I feel like I’m going to explode here!”) Of course I don’t remember him ever saying that. His complaints are usually targeted toward that one similarly blue-haired kid, which has a beautiful payoff when he learns he’s also named Milhouse, and a great microcosm that the two towns could really have a fine bond if they drop their stupid feud (“So this is what it feels like when doves cry!”)
– I love how dense Marge is regarding Bart’s actual border-crossing activities. Lisa eventually has to flat-out tell her mother that Bart’s waging war on Shelbyville, and Marge is horrified (“Homer! Come quick! Bart’s quit his tutoring job and joined a violence gang!”)
– The scene with Martin and Nelson shaking down Shelbyville kids in wonderful: Martin acting assertive is fantastic, under the consistent assertion that his best buddy and protector Nelson will save him. Nelson sheepishly appears and reasserts his cred (“I never hang out with him, normally.”) before knocking out Martin’s would-be attacker. Martin is most pleased, singing a song of triumph while dancing around Nelson, who has such little care or energy to deal with this he just half-heartedly swipes at him.
– I like how Bart’s big reveal of himself to the Shelbyville kids lands so flat, like the name Bart Simpson is not as immortal as he’d hope. They even saw him the other day and don’t recognize he’s a Springfieldian until he says so.
– The scene where Bart has to escape the tiger feeding area by deciphering Roman numerals is kind of dumb, but I still like it for calling back earlier when Bart didn’t pay attention in class, and his solution in recalling the titles of Rocky movies (“Rocky V plus Rocky II equals… Rocky VII: Adrian’s Revenge!”)
– I’ll reiterate how much I love that Shelby’s father has the Walter Mattheu voice. It’s almost like these are the un-evolved versions of Bart and Homer. He’s also got some of the best lines (“Get out here, son! There’s a doin’s a-transpirin’!” “Shake harder, boy!”)
– It’s such a stupid, stupid, stupid, dumb joke, but I still love the bit where Ned can’t start the engine because Homer has chosen this highly dramatic and tense get-away moment to cook and baste four turkeys in the oven.
– Homer and Bart taunt Shelbyville from the window (“Eat my shorts!”) Ned attempts to join in (“Yes, eat all of our shirts!”)
– Each town gets their moment of triumph: Bart and Milhouse celebrate with some lemonade (just a few drops with an entire glass full of sugar), and Shelbyville’s resident old man assures that their town valiantly evicted the lemon tree because it was haunted, and now they could enjoy some nice turnip juice.