(originally aired December 17, 2000)
This is another one of those episodes that just kind of falls into the ether. There’s nothing terribly wrong with it, but there’s not much notable about it. The kids get snowed in the school, and eventually run wild? It’s kind of a base and simple idea with no real unique or interesting twist added to it. As such, there’s not a lot I can comment on, but I’ll try and scrounge up something. We have our select kids who chose or were forced to come to school on a big snow day, which explains why they’re all put in one class, so that’s fine. But we have a mix of the bullies and smart kids like Lisa and Martin, and the entire ending is about the school going under kid rule and them wrecking up the place. The more sensible thinkers either disappear, or the more minor characters show up in montages, like Allison for some reason accepting a mouthful of relish from Nelson. Maybe some more interplay between the kids regarding a plan of escape or their co-existence would be good, but then maybe it’d just be a rehash of “Das Bus.”
Before that we have Skinner’s feeble attempts to keep the kids in line, who are quickly beginning to challenge his authority. He’s then inspired by his old sergeant days in ‘Nam to take charge of the situation. He sits atop his old army chest, which is brazen with “S. Skinner,” and reminisces of the “good ol’ days.” Now either he stole the real Skinner’s chest, or perhaps this is from when Skinner re-enlisted in “Baaadasssss Song.” This is the first time since “Principal and the Pauper” that they’ve tried to bring up Skinner’s old past, and it definitely does feel a bit different. Certainly Skinner wouldn’t remember something that just didn’t happen. Or maybe he’s deluded himself to a point where he thinks he actually was Sgt. Seymour Skinner. Maybe that’s fodder for another episode, like Skinner has gotten so ingrained in the lie that he can’t distinguish himself and the persona anymore. I know this is a long, nonsensical tangent, but I honestly don’t have much to say on this episode.
The kid power havoc through the school is pretty much what you’d expect, and as such is not all that funny. Meanwhile, Homer and Flanders attempt to drive through the storm to rescue their kids. And wouldn’t you know that Homer is actually kind of a nice guy in this time of crisis? Just kidding, he’s still an asshole, somehow sawing off part of Ned’s roof to use as a plow blade, wrecking his car and insulting him at nearly every turn. Pretty rough stuff. Also, considering we have Ned to the rescue, why don’t we get anything from Rod and Todd? Even though we’ve seen them there a few times (including the opening titles), I always have a hard time remembered that Rod and Todd even go to Springfield Elementary. In this episode, they do appear in the background, but they don’t have one piece of dialogue. They just silently get into Ned’s car at the end. But then again, they certainly would clash with the havoc that goes on in act three. Maybe they could have been huddled with fear under a desk or something. I dunno. Anyway, am I done here? Looks like it. One of the most banal episodes ever.
Tidbits and Quotes
– There’s been a bizarre multi-season running gag with Homer holding up pennants for various events (or non-events, like in the last episode, he held a “Justice” flag in the courtroom.) I certainly didn’t laugh the first time they did it, and each future re-appearance has always left me scratching my head. Here we get a payoff of sorts in seeing Homer has a whole bin of pennants, as he swaps out “TV Sports” with “French Circus.”
– The Cirque de Puree is okay. There’s a few amusing bits, mostly from Marge, commenting on the obvious plant in the audience (“They always pick the guy with the wires”) and telling Homer that the contortionists are giving her ideas (mainly on how to become more efficient with housework.)
– It’s a quick bit, but I love the gag with seeing Captain McAllister hunkered down seemingly for the storm, but he reveals he was tied down as a prank by teenage pirates.
– I love the radio announcer jerking around the kids of Springfield regarding school closings (“The following schools are closed today: Shelbyville, Ogdenville, Ogdenville Tech, and Springfield ‘Elementary… My Dear Watson’ Detective School. And lastly, Springfield Elementary School… is open. And it’s open season on savings at Springfield Menswear… which is closed.”)
– “The Christmas That Almost Wasn’t But Then Was” feels like it should be a lot funnier. The show has done a lot of jokes about bad productions in the past that were way better. I do like the stagehand sheepishly trying to get out of frame though.
– We see a lot of establishing shots of the school in this episode, and up until the very end when the entire building is covered in snow, we see that the second floor windows are basically out in the open. While I don’t recall ever seeing people go upstairs in the school, there’s definitely a second floor, which everyone could have easily escaped out of. Then later when Skinner sends out the hamster ball for help, they’re on the second floor, and he squeezes him out through a hole the kids easily could have dug through. It feels like kind of a huge plot hole.
– Kent Brockman gives a report (“And where are the city’s snowplows? Sold off to billionaire Montgomery Burns in a veritable orgasm of poor planning.”) Guys… seriously, stop with the sex jokes. Stop it. And Burns playing indoor soccer with a snowplow? Very out-of-character and not funny.
– Homer knocks into a fire hydrant, which erupts, and then immediately the water freezes and encases the car with ice along with it. Is it below zero out there? The water froze in less than three seconds. Between this and the goddamn ending with the giant salt silo… I hate everything about the Homer and Ned segments.
– “Okay, Skinner, that’s the last time you’ll slap your Willie around. I quit!” Now that’s a good dirty joke! That works. One gold star for you, writers.
– It’s a small joke so I can hand wave it, but the bit with the permanent record page Milhouse rips up reattaches itself, puts itself back in the book and the shelves slam shut by themselves is a bit much.
– I like this exchange between Skinner and Nelson (“If you get me out of this, there’s a hall monitor position coming open in the spring.” “I spit on your monitors.” “I know. That’s why the position’s available.”)
– “You did it, Nibbles! Now, chew through my ball sack!” Again, writers, stop. Way too easy.



