161. Hurricane Neddy

~ Mike! ~ 19 Comments

(originally aired December 29, 1996)
Tone is an important thing to establish and maintain throughout your story. This series is primarily comedic, of course, but has expertly pulled off episodes with a greater dramatic and serious slant with assorted jokes peppered in. The subject matter of this episode is particularly grave, almost too much so at times, where the humor is sometimes a bit too wacky for its surroundings. Take the first act where Springfield is buckling down in preparation for a big hurricane. There’s some jokes about crowd hysteria in preparation (Hurricane Chow is a great gag), but when the storm hits, it’s pretty severe, or at least treated as such, with the Simpson family huddled worriedly in the basement. Then Homer walks out in the eye of the storm and the family gets blown around and swirled around back into the house. It almost seems too cartoonish given the established gravitas. It’s not too egregious, but it doesn’t really click the right way.

The hurricane spares the Simpsons, but absolutely decimates the Flanders house, leaving Ned almost like a modern day Job, now homeless and jobless due to the Leftorium fallen victim to rampant looting. Watching the eternally optimistic Ned slowly lose hope is kind of interesting, but almost goes too far. The scene where he prays to God at night is pretty melodramatic for the purposes of the show. A miracle seems to have happened when he finds the townspeople have banded together to rebuild his house, until he sees it’s so completely ramshackle that it collapses after the grand tour. At long last, Ned reaches his breaking point, chewing out all of the Springfield residents, then calmly drives himself to the town mental hospital to commit himself. There he is reunited with child psychiatrist Dr. Foster, who illuminates his repressed childhood memories. Turns out that li’l Ned was an uncontrollable hellion to ineffective beatnik parents. An aggressive spanking therapy managed to keep Ned’s violent outbursts suppressed, almost to a fault, where he now is physically incapable of expressing any negativity.

I’m kind of torn when it comes to examining the origins of secondary characters. On one hand, the backstory here is kind of interesting, giving a bit more reasoning to Ned’s character and his kooky catch phrases. But on the other hand, it leaves this dark under hanging to him that is going to stick with me. I didn’t remember this episode too well, but I think it’s more damaging character-wise than “The Principal and the Pauper.” So Ned has this seething anger that he feels all the time but can’t get it out? And he really does hate Homer? Is his faith a bizarre way of channeling his emotions? It kind of taints his perfect saintly neighbor archetype he’s meant to be. But it’s something that really could have built and went somewhere… except they rush through it within the last five minutes. Ned and Homer have a back-and-forth at the asylum, Ned admits he hates his parents, he’s cured, end of episode. When the revelation and the resolution occur within two minutes of each other, it doesn’t quite feel worth it. But despite my questions on the worthiness of this character exploration, it was somewhat intriguing, and where there were jokes that didn’t go too far, and even those that did, they were funny. It’s a flawed, but still mostly satisfying episode.

Tidbits and Quotes
– Great bit involving Kent Brockman’s latent sexism (“If you think naming a destructive storm after a woman is sexist, you obviously have never seen the gals grabbing for items at a clearance sale”) and Marge’s diminutive response (“That’s true, but he shouldn’t say it.”)
– Classic Homer thinking, having ripped the backdoor of the house off to board up the back window.
– Despite the hurricane, the state has decided it’s the perfect time to execute someone, but the roof rips off and the convict is sent flying out of the electric chair, much to everyone’s disappointment. But the convict ends up lodged in a telephone poll, electrocuting him, and the crowd cheers. Grisly, but funny.
– Great bit with Marge and the Rubick’s cube and the other family members barking ridiculous orders at her, like to use her main finger and turn a side “topwise.” She eventually gets fed up (“Now I remember why I put this down here in the first place!”)
– The treacle is laid on pretty thick as Marge prays for an end to the hurricane, followed by the family surprised to find it over, but Homer finds a way to cut through it by basically calling God a sucker (“He fell for it! Way to go, Marge!”)
– Very clever that we don’t see the complete wording of Todd’s “Butthole Surfers” T-shirt. I also like Rod’s innocent glee over the naughty apparel (“Look, Daddy, Todd is stupid and I’m with him. And now Mommy’s stupid!”)
– Ned comes to Lovejoy with his Job analogy, but the Reverend dismissively informs him that Job was right-handed. Ned then asks if God is punishing him, prompting Lovejoy to take a deep breath before answering, “Short answer: ‘yes with an ‘if,’ long answer: ‘no,’ with a ‘but.'”
– Entering his new house, Ned snags his sweater on a loose nail. Homer comments, “One out of twenty five ain’t bad!” The load-bearing poster and electricity room are good gags, but I think they went too far with the tiny master bedroom. It’s still funny, but come on.
– Harry Shearer gives a powerhouse performance when Ned finally snaps. My favorite outburst is probably the one directed at Bart (“Okay, duuuuude! I wouldn’t want you to have a cow, maaaan! Here’s a catch-phrase you better learn for your adult years: ‘Hey, Buddy, got a quarter?'”) Bart is stupefied (“I am shocked and appalled.”) Moe comes in a close second (“You ugly, hate-filled man!” “Hey, hey, I may be ugly and hate-filled, but I… um, what was the third thing you said?”)
– Other familiar faces at the mental hospital include Ms. Botz, John Swartzwelder and Jay Sherman (“It stinks! It stinks! It stinks!” “Yes, Mr. Sherman. Everything stinks.”)
– I love Homer’s flat reads of the cards meant to agitate Ned (“Past instances in which I professed to like you were fraudulent.” “I engaged in intercourse with your spouse or significant other.”) I also like their back and forth as Homer tries to find something Ned genuinely finds annoying (“What about fluorescent lights?” “They hum like angels! You’re never lonely if you’ve got a florescent light!”)
– I really don’t get the ending. So Ned’s going to be more open with his feelings… except he’s not. That and he’s a maniac. Oh well. Ned, you so cra-zay.

160. Lisa’s Date With Density

~ Mike! ~ 12 Comments

(originally aired December 15, 1996)
This is one of those classic episodes that ends up kind of lost in the shuffle. In a lineup this season of maniacal super villain bosses and X-Files cameos, a simple childhood romance story doesn’t seem as spectacular. But as we’ve seen from this series, these episodes can be fantastic, with lots of great character moments and an intriguing story. “Density” isn’t terrible, but it does feel somewhat innocuous and by-the-numbers, featuring subject matter that this show would normally mock. We begin by setting up Nelson as the rebel-without-a-cause bad boy and Lisa filled with perplexment over developing a crush on him. She confides her feelings with Milhouse, who is understandably discouraged that Lisa’s affections lie elsewhere. Nelson remains ambivalent over Lisa’s interests and intentions to make him a better person, while his fellow bullies think that he’s gone soft on them and mock him incessantly for it. Then Nelson of course teams back up with the bullies and of course Lisa finds out and is disappointed and moves on, much to Milhouse’s constrained glee… of course.

This show has run through its fair share of formulaic plot lines, some of them being the most memorable of the series, but always with some new twist or subversion, or at least a fresh look at it. This good-girl-bad-boy premise is pretty tread territory, and played completely straight, so we just sort of sit there and watch as the plot points we expect come and go until the episode ends. It’s not a good thing, but not so much a bad thing either. Ultimately the episode ends up kind of bland, but with nothing too grossly offensive (or in this case inoffensive) to make me want to turn it off. The Skinner/Chalmers stuff at the beginning is pretty good, and the petty theft of the Honda ‘H’ off Chalmers’ 1979 Accord is a wonderfully lame act illustrating Nelson’s thoughtless hooliganism. The interactions between Lisa and Nelson at the start of their “relationship” is kinda cute; Yeardley Smith gives a great performance, slightly nervous and pensive, but always adorable, and always feeling like Lisa. Though equally as cliche in concept as the dogged best friend with a crush, Milhouse is fantastic in this episode, riding the line of pitiful and amiably pathetic (“When she sees you’ll do anything she says, she’s bound to respect you.”) The best scene in this show involves a tragic miscommunication when he delivers a love note from Lisa to Nelson, resulting in him being sent to the emergency room.

There’s a B-story that doesn’t take up much time, but certainly worth noting. Homer acquires an auto-dialing machine during a police bust, utilizing it to play a recorded message to every phone number in town asking to send him one dollar. He sees this as a fool-proof scheme to put him on easy street. As silly as the plot sounds, it certainly was more interesting than the main story, with Homer’s funny message and great bits from Professor Frink and Chief Wiggum. However, a part of me does feel like stuff like this is a looming harbinger for things to come. Homer not going to work in exchange of a crazy scheme? We’d see plenty more of that in the future, with more excruciating results. But for the time being, I didn’t mind, and was amused by Homer’s brief stint as “Happy Dude” (later “Sorry Dude.”) This entire episode feels very ineffective on the whole, but is not without its smaller emotional moments and jokes to keep you engaged just enough.

Tidbits and Quotes
– I always find myself mixing up “Density” with “Destiny” in the title. I feel like George McFly.
– Homer tries to take advantage of the self-serve donut station at the Kwik-E-Mart, but Apu is not so easy to fool (“A Mounds bar is not a sprinkle. A Twizzler is not a sprinkle. A Jolly Rancher is not a sprinkle, sir. Perhaps in Shangri-La they are, but not in here.”)
– Never has a name seemed more apt than Jimmy the Scumbag. You look at him, and think, “Man, that guy seems like a real scumbag.”
– I love the ridiculousness of Willie prying each locker open with a crowbar, effectively destroying them all, rather than just having the students open them.
– Lisa giggles at Nelson’s antics outside, much to Mr. Largo’s chagrin (“Miss Simpson?  Do you find something funny about the word tromboner?”) This leads to the class teasing “Lisa likes Nelson!” with the taunt changing as Milhouse and Janey get involved. Mr. Largo is quickly fed up (“Uter likes Milhouse!” “Nobody likes Milhouse!”)
– Nice meta reference when Lisa gets detention writing on the chalkboard. Rubbing her sore wrist, she wonders how Bart does it every week.
– Great animation of Milhouse choking on his milk, causing the carton to explode when Lisa confesses her crush to him.
– I like that, for some reason, Frink installed robotic wheels onto the auto dialer, and how Homer just chases after his runaway machine, completely non-plussed by the fact that it’s now mobile.
– Classic bit where Lisa questions Nelson’s “Nuke the Whales” poster (“You don’t really believe that, do you?” “I dunno. Gotta nuke somethin’.”) Also a bumper sticker on the wall reads “Bomb the Arabs and Take Their Oil.” Foreshadowing?
– Great scene of Marge and Lisa in the car as they ponder about their respective men (“Most women will tell you that you’re a fool to think you can change a man, but those women are quitters!”) Lisa proceeds to patronize her mother when she talks about how much Homer has improved thanks to her molding.
– I do like how both parties have their own views on the kiss: Lisa thinks she’s finally touched Nelson’s soul, while Nelson initiated the kiss just to shut her up.
– Nice assorted name-calling between the kids: Lisa calls the other bullies a bunch of “crumb-bums,” and one of them chides Nelson as a “charlatan” as they walk away.
– The ending of the auto-dialer plot is pretty great, starting by the dumb mislead where we think Wiggum is shooting Nelson… but it’s actually just the machine. He then informs Homer that he should bring it in as evidence, otherwise he gets off scot-free. We also get an acknowledgement of the absurdity that Wiggum, as chief of police, responds to each and every police call in the town. Lou and Eddie don’t seem too grateful for that, for obvious reasons.
– I think this episode initiated the phrase “smell you later.” So at least we have it to thank for that. And with that… smell you later.

159. A Milhouse Divided

~ Mike! ~ 9 Comments

(originally aired December 1, 1996)
In case you haven’t figured it out from the other 158 reviews, this series is pretty amazing, and it always seems to come up with new ways to emphasize that fact. This episode’s first act culminates with an aggravated back-and-forth conversation between two characters we really don’t know anything about, but thanks to great solid writing, we completely understand these people, their personalities and their motives. The set-up is Marge’s desire for social interaction through having a dinner party, inviting the Lovejoys, the Flanderses, the Hibberts and the Van Houtens. Groundwork is laid throughout the evening with the latter couple getting increasingly at each others throats before getting cut off by Marge, moving onto another activity to sweep the unpleasantness under the rug. But a game of Pictionary becomes the Van Houtens undoing, as Kirk and Luann have it out. Hank Azaria and Maggie Roswell give dynamite performances, both hilarious and absolutely dramatically believable. That’s why this scene is so insane, it really feels like a heated argument, and you can feel the incredible awkwardness of the other couples witnessing a marriage fall apart at the seams, especially from Marge, who is running out of ways to divert attention away from this elephant in the room. It’s one of the best scenes of the entire series, since the show has managed to create something from nothing in the most engaging way possible.

Kirk and Luann break up and begin to form their own separate lives. While Luann is more than pleased with being single, quickly hooking up with an American Gladiator, Kirk’s life isn’t going so hot. He gets fired from the cracker factory thanks to his divorce (“Crackers are a family food. Happy families. Maybe single people eat crackers, we don’t know. Frankly, we don’t want to know. It’s a market we can do without,”) he lives in a seedy apartment complex, and his car gets stolen by a cheap floozy. We do feel bad for Kirk, but he is really a pathetic character by nature. He muses about how he should have seen the signs that this would all happen, which new pal Homer believes will never transpire with him and Marge. Meanwhile, groundwork has also been set through the episode of Marge constantly being disappointed and fed up with Homer, so when the telltale signs finally permeate Homer’s skull, he freaks out, believing divorce may be coming his way any time soon. So he does the most rational thing he can think of: get divorced himself and throw a lavish second wedding.

I think there’s plenty of unmined gold to be had from the Kirk and Luann story, examining their new lives more and potential awkward run-ins with each other. Also barely even touched upon is its effect on Milhouse, who we only really examine for one scene. That could have been a whole story in itself. On paper, it might seem like a rich story sadly diverted to be yet another Homer-Marge marital woes episode, but it really doesn’t feel that way. First off, as mentioned, the stage is set through the episode of Marge’s quiet displeasure over her husband, and second, Homer’s troubles set in from his (over)reaction to the main story. It also ties in with the Van Houtens plot anyway, as Kirk figures that if a big romantic gesture works for Homer and Marge, it could work for him too. With as much gumption as he can muster, he belts his love ballad “Can I Borrow A Feelin’?” to his former wife, asking him to marry him again. She says no. This ain’t TV, Kirk, not every story has a happy ending. Pouring salt on the wound, Luann’s new boyfriend escorts him outside and shuts the door. Kirk vows he’ll be back… prob-probably. I was really surprised just how much I loved this episode. It’s surprisingly tense and dramatic at the start, but keeps the laughs and energy up even with the third act plot shift, still maintaining the themes and brings the main story back for a satisfying ending. And we fleshed out two tertiary characters to boot. What more could you want?

Tidbits and Quotes
– Marge wishes for more conversational engagement at home, but the family continues to eat dinner glued to the TV. Homer moans that the plates aren’t see-through as he attempts to lick it clear whilst still staring at the screen, Bart’s down to his skivvies at 5pm, and even Lisa can barely put together sentences, too absorbed with the idiot box.
– Another great store name, “Stoner’s Pot Palace,” of which Otto walks out quite disappointed with the false advertising. Easy joke, but effective.
– I like whenever Marge gets into something, she puts her all into it, like when she puts another glaze on the already blindingly bright ham. And of course seconds before the party starts, Homer is still in his underwear in the living room playing with slot car racers (“Just gotta put my shoes on!” “The only thing I asked you to do for this party was put on clothes, and you didn’t do it!”)
– It really is disconcerting that Kirk and Luann look exactly the same. I wouldn’t want them to address it on the show, since it’d be way too creepy, but there must be some kind of weird intentional or unintentional inbreeding going on there. Like imagine being sexually attracted to basically yourself as the opposite sex. Or the same sex. No judgement.
– I fucking love the uneasiness of the first act, it’s done so well (“Marge, I know I haven’t eaten that well since the army.” “Or that noisily…”) I love Hank Azaria’s low “Alright, that’s it…” getting ready to start some shit before Marge cuts him off.
– The Pictionary scene is absolutely stellar. I love the frequent cuts back to Marge, nervously wringing her napkin, then later when Luann mentions how Kirk’s incompetence cratered his cracker company to tie with Table Time and Allied Biscuit, to which Marge discreetly tosses a plate of Allied Biscuit crackers back in the box and tucks it under the couch. Luann goes on (“I love having to borrow money from my sister. I love having to steal clothes from the church donation box.”) Such devastation in her voice too. Cut to Lovejoy (“Oh sweet Jesus…”) It’s even better since he had alluded to the ransacked clothes earlier. So many minor bits that are amazing: Gudger College, Luann’s unseen perfect representation of ‘dignity,’ Lisa coming in singing “You’re A Grand Old Flag,” and Kirk’s horrible drawing skills.
– First appearance of Kearney’s kid (“I sleep in a drawer!”) In “Much Apu About Nothing,” we see Kearney used a pitiful fake ID to try and buy beer, so he must be no older than 20, and his son looks pretty young… and now I’ve just pictured Kearney having sex. Brilliant.
– Great reference to the audience when Luann tells Marge to forget everything she used to know about her, to which Marge honestly responds that she doesn’t really know anything about her.
– Kirk shows off his new digs to Homer (“You get your own bed. I sleep in a racing car, do you?” “I sleep in a big bed with my wife.”) I love the sound effects of the establishing shots too, lots of sirens and gunshots.
– The bit we do see of Milhouse does work perfectly, with Luann fawning over her perfect son who is currently destroying the house.
– After breaking a chair on Luann’s gladiator boyfriend, Bart tries to do the same with his father… to much different results. This is a Homer-gets-hurt scene that really works, as it has a motivation and works in the scene. Plus it’s so unexpected, for us and Homer, who is contently taking a bath when he gets slammed so hard by the chair that it breaks to pieces. Dan Castellaneta’s scream is hysterical (“What the hell is wrong with you?!” “Jeez, sorry. It’s a pretty standard stunt, Homer.”)
– As Homer laments how crummy his marriage began, we get a clip from “I Married Marge,” which is also paired with new footage of Marge, who appears less than thrilled at her marriage at Shotgun Pete’s. Most of what we’ve seen of their past, the two are fairly happy, but as has been implied, there’s an underlying sadness to Marge. Homer tries to smooth things with a cake, “To A Whale of a Wife,” I assume a reference to Carvel’s Fudgy the Whale.
– Homer tries to smooth things over with Marge, but fails in every way. He also stops in to give her an impromptu hair cut at the Perm Bank (another amazing store name.)
– I love how happy Homer is to tell his wife that they have to get married again since he already got them a divorce (“I didn’t want a hokey second wedding like those ones on TV. This one is for real!”)
– Homer’s vows are amazing, of course, hilariously read by Lovejoy (“Do you, Marge, take Homer, in richness and in poorness… poorness is underlined… in impotence and in potence, in quiet solitude or blasting across the alkali flats in a jet-powered, monkey- navigated… and it goes on like this.”)
– The smooth jazz end credits theme may be my favorite variant, tied with the “Mad Mad Mad Mad World” version. It’s just so mellow and cool.

158. Bart After Dark

~ Mike! ~ 10 Comments

(originally aired November 24, 1996)
This is an episode with a pretty out there plot, but it succeeds based on the pitch perfect characterizations. It shows this series can tackle just about any story as long as we stay mindful of our beloved characters. Things start off naturally enough as Lisa gets adamant about a new cause: cleaning up a sizable oil spill devastating a distant beach. We see celebrities like Rainier Wolfcastle and his buxom companion mugging for the camera in their staged publicity stunt, but we also see that a righteous Lisa isn’t much different. True, she probably cares a lot more for the cause than those Hollywood phonies, but we also see how flighty she is with her environmental activism (justified in that she’s just a child), and devastated when she arrives and sees she won’t get to clean the cute little animals. After much cajoling, Marge agrees to take Lisa to the beach, leaving Homer and Bart to their own devices. Suffice to say, the house quickly becomes a wreck. Marge had kept the boys just on the edge of civilized, and it’s great to see how low they can go, be it Bart gargling with soda or Homer answering the door wearing a grocery bag (with groceries in it.)

The main story kicks in when Bart’s horseplay leads to the destruction of a rooftop gargoyle on a house belonging to a witch (at least according to child folklore.) Homeowner Belle arrives at the Simpson house expecting Bart to be punished, and Homer, not wanting Marge to find out about this down the line, demands Bart do chores for the woman to pay off his debt. But neither of them know Belle’s actual business: the house is actually a gentleman’s club called the Maison Derriere, where Bart performs a litany of tasks from being doorman to subbing in for the unusually short opening act. It’s a pretty risqué episode, but this kind of subject matter has never stopped the series before. A particularly great scene involves Homer’s discovery of where he sent his son to work, consisting of Belle apologizing for any miscommunication whilst he is dumbstruck by a nude Princess Kashmir on stage. I like Bart’s childish naughtiness in volunteering to sort through a trunk of bras, and later seeing the slightly perverted side of Springfield’s citizens, including Principal Skinner, who brings Bart’s work to the attention of the Lovejoys and the Flanderses. The second act break is one of my favorite of the series, where Homer gets incredibly adamant in defense of his decision, then immediately deflates when he sees Marge standing there (“Now, Marge, you’re gonna hear a lot of crazy talk about Bart working in a burlesque house…”)

Reminiscent of “Itchy & Scratchy & Marge,” Marge leads a moral crusade against this previously underground establishment, effectively guilt tripping the town into siding with her upon showing damning photographs of various citizens attending the burlesque house, including Mayor Quimby (“That could be any mayor!”) The town is in true angry mob form as they storm the Maison, smashing and setting fire to the area. How best to resolve this situation? Through song, of course. “We Put the Spring in Springfield” is one of the show’s hallmark numbers, incredibly catchy, entertaining, and full of overt euphemisms (those ladies sure put the “boing” in Springfield, alright…) It also culminates into a great self aware moment about these kinds of ridiculous songs, where Marge comes in late with a bulldozer and is shocked to find that a song has completely changed everybody’s minds, and that they can’t re-sing it since it was so spur of the moment. Marge attempts to come up with her own song on the spot, but accidentally rams her bulldozer into the house. One of my favorite lines from the whole series is from Lovejoy, “Thanks a lot, Marge. That was our only burlesque house.” This man of God who three minutes ago was totally against the place is now devastated to see it gone. But that’s the power of the spontaneous song. A hilarious and showstopping episode if I ever saw one.

Tidbits and Quotes
– After a quick V-Chip joke, we get a really crazy, kind of dark Itchy & Scratchy, with the set up of a talk show with Scratchy as the abused victim on stage. Itchy breaks a bottle, comes out from backstage to full applause, Scratchy gets down and begs for his life and Itchy lunges the bottle at him before the show is cut off by a news announcement. How horrifying…..ly funny.
– Of all the beaches the tanker could have crashed in, of course it was Baby Seal Beach. Also great seeing a drunken Captain McAlister offering Dave Shutton a hundred bucks to take the blame for the accident on camera.
– Great animation and performance by Yeardley Smith of Lisa play-acting for her mother on how much she loves that peach tree.
– The time fade of Bart and Homer doing garbage angels to seeing them passed out on a floor is so funny and disturbing at the same time. One day has passed since Marge left and they’re literally stewing in their own filth.
– I don’t know if I buy Martin wanting to hang out with Ralph, but we do get the great Burns line when he sees the two running away from the toy plane (“I don’t like being outdoors, Smithers. For one thing, there are too many fat children.”)
– Wonderful performance by Tress MacNeille as Belle in this episode. I feel later seasons would overuse her as every single woman and child voice, but she’s had plenty of memorable performances throughout the series. Belle has a particular affectation and rhythm I haven’t heard from any of her other many, many characters.
– Classic bit where Homer drops Bart off at Belle’s saying he needs to take responsibility for his actions, then accidentally pulls up on the curb, knocking over the mailbox. He immediately screams and quickly drives off.
– My favorite scene is definitely when Grampa walks in the door, turns to put his hat on the rack, turns back to see Bart, turns back to get his hat, and then out the door. All while whistling. He then peeks his head in and asks, “Is your name ‘Bart’?” Bart only has to nod. Grampa demands if his father knows he’s working there. Bart says it was Homer’s idea. Grampa is convinced, walking back in asking for a whiskey sour.
– I love Bart on stage telling the absentee comic’s lame jokes, but the crowd laughs uproariously at them because I assume they’re all drunk.
– Homer takes a moment to observe the many pictures on the Maison Derriere’s wall (“President Eisenhower celebrates 40th wedding anniversary. Not pictured: Mrs. Eisenhower.”)
– I love how Skinner tries to cover his tracks when he realizes that Bart is the doorman at the burlesque house, and then later when the Lovejoys and Flanderses show up at Homer’s door. Helen Lovejoy tells them Skinner found out about Bart, who then pops up from below, almost like he was hiding in shame, to defend himself (“That’s true, but I was only in there to get directions on how to get away from there.”)
– The scene where Marge demands Belle get out of town is fantastic, where Belle is really just toying with Marge, who is incredibly adamant toward her cause (“Sleazy entertainment and raunchy jokes will never be as popular as sobriety and self-denial.”)
– The town hall meeting is full of great stuff, like the townspeople angrily defending the structural stability of the house in question, and the various calls of shock at the slideshow of people leaving the Maison Derriere. When no one comments on Barney’s picture, Moe steps up out of obligation, and Burns is surprised to see Smithers up there (“My parents insisted I give it a try, sir.”)
– The song is obviously fantastic, I’m sure you know that if you’re reading this. Probably goes in third after the Planet of the Apes musical and “You Can Always Depend on the Kindness of Strangers.” I also like the ending with Marge’s lame ventriloquism act, and Homer’s boisterous “Take it off!” leading to Bart kicking him out.

157. Burns, Baby Burns

~ Mike! ~ 13 Comments

(originally aired November 17, 1996)
There’s been plenty of guest stars come in to play different characters. There’s also plenty of guests stars who have played themselves. Then there’s the rare occasion where it’s one and the same. Here we have Rodney Dangerfield voicing Mr. Burns’s long lost bastard child Larry, who essentially is the same character that we know from the many movies he’s been in. It seems so odd and out of place, but it’s mollified by two points: one, I love Rodney Dangerfield, and two, the character actually works for the purposes of the story. Who could be more opposite and act as a greater foil to the joyless, no-nonsense Burns than Dangerfield? Given this opportunity, the writers managed to cram this show with a ton of Rodney-style one-liners, which may not entirely fit with the comedic rhythm of the series, but dammit do I still love that guy that I didn’t mind (one in particular I use quite often, “If it gets any livelier, a funeral’s gonna break out.”) I also love his character design, a sore of bizarre mish-mash of the actual comedian with Burns-like features. He even exhibits the same extended preying arms walk at one point.

I really enjoyed basically everything in the first two acts. Having previously picked him up as a hitchhiker, Homer builds a kinship with Larry due to their mutual laziness, which makes sense. Meanwhile, Burns desperately attempts to integrate his son into high society at a fancy gala, which is a scene that basically feels ripped from one of Rodney’s movies. I can actually picture it; he’s at the finger sandwich station, but he scoops the bread out of each piece and makes this elaborate super sandwich, much to the crowd’s shock. If anyone can remember the movie, feel free to post. Again, I don’t mind this content shift because I was still amused and it worked within the story. Burns can’t even pawn his son off to Yale without a rather sizable donation (“Yale could use an international airport, Mr. Burns.”) Burns’s annoyance continually builds until he outright disowns his son, leaving Larry with no one to rely on but tag along Homer, who comes up with a brilliant scheme: a phony kidnapping.

Now the last act is a bit strange. The fake kidnapping didn’t seem too inspired, but I did find myself going along with for the most part, as it wasn’t that out of left field and there were plenty of great gags thrown in. It’s the very ending that doesn’t entirely sit with me. Larry admits that they faked the kidnapping, leading Homer to come to his defense, giving some rigamarole schmaltzy speech about how much he values the love of his children or something. Nothing really built to this epiphany on Homer’s end, so it didn’t really make much sense coming from him with no set-up. This leads to Burns and Larry’s not-so-reconciliation, which is at least better than them making up when we know we’ll never see Larry again (and I do like the dumb revelation that he has a wife and kids, “Oh, that reminds me. They’re probably wondering where I went! I told ’em I’m going for coffee, that was a week ago!”) And then we have the dancing party ending, aping 80s movie conventions, many from movies Rodney’s been in like Caddyshack. While I at least appreciate that they pointed out how dumb it was, it just didn’t sit right. After all the Rodney-isms and silly third act twist, I feel like it needed something of a grounded ending that sort of made sense, but instead they just went for broke in all out craziness. But on the whole, I enjoyed it. I feel if you don’t like Rodney Dangerfield, you’d hate this one, but luckily for me, that’s not the case. If that is the case for you, then I don’t want to know you.

Tidbits and Quotes
– I love Flanders’s spiel at the cider mill, proudly flashing his annual pass (of which he’s the first, and possibly only, member). He instills Homer with great wisdom regarding the difference between juice and cider (“If it’s clear and yella’, you’ve got juice there, fella! If it’s tangy and brown, you’re in cider town!”) Homer’s brain can’t take much more, literally abandoning the rest of his body, leaving his mortal self to nod a few times, then collapse in a heap. The animation of him falling is hysterical, he just sort of crumples to the floor. Compare this with that shitty pulled frames cycle of people falling down that Family Guy does all the time. What garbage. But I don’t want to open this Pandora’s Box…
– I like Marge’s apple souvenir hat atop her hair, and the little running gag of her mispronouncing words and Lisa correcting her, much to her chagrin (“It doesn’t take a nucular scientist to pronounce foilage.”)
– Great animation when the train screeches to a halt, thrusting Burns and Smithers forward and all the pool balls spill into one pocket.
– I like all of Larry’s horrible tchotchkes, like the googly eyed walnut and rocks, and the stretched out Pepsi bottle (“If this stuff is too nice for ya, I’ve got some crap!”)
– Homer’s initial reaction to Larry on the side of the road with a “Springfield” sign is hilarious (“Can’t they get a pole for that sign?”) Also great is his bickering with Marge whether they should pick him up, culminating in Homer declaring they are picking him up. At that point they’d already pulled into the driveway at home, so he backs out and drives the other way.
– I like the rhythm of the bit of Grampa sitting on the pie. It’s a wholly contained joke with Marge almost narrating it, “Don’t sit on the pie,” “Are you sitting on the pie?” And Grampa’s “I suuuuure hope so…” is hilarious.
– Nice winking nod to Rodney’s constant riffing, as he rattles off a few one-liners walking up Burns’s estate (“Hey, who am I talking to?”)
– The history of Larry’s conception is truly a great one: at his 25th Yale reunion, Burns ran across his unrequited love, and managed to see past her slight wrinkles and gray hair… to her 21-year-old daughter. Their arousal was heightened by seeing Gone With the Wind and Clark Gable’s reckless use of the word “damn,” then they snuck into the Peabody museum, and expressed their love physically, “as was the style at the time.” Larry is impressed (“Well, how do ya like that? I have been in a museum!”)
– Cheap joke with Burns’s “play room” actually hosting a play, but I love the one actor’s intensity in an unknown production (“You can’t just eat the orange and throw the peel away! A man’s not a piece of fruit!”)
– I like all of the Rodney-isms, but my favorite is probably his reaction to the rather homely, recently outed debutante (“Woah! Put her back in! She’s not done yet!”)
– We get a joke where Moe talks about what happened to the last guy foolish enough to charge a beer to Mr. Burns… who of course is Barney. Pan over to show him covered in garbage, saying it was worth it. I’d comment how silly it was that he still would be covered in filth from what we assume is a past event… but it’s Barney, so it still works.
– I think it’s sweet when the Simpson kids make their own Rodney-style jabs at their mom, but it’s all in good fun. Marge’s slight annoyance is overtaken by a shyness as she thanks their applause.
– I like Burns on the phone with Homer using a disguised voice, who is trying to get Burns to admit he misses Larry, but to no avail (“Do you miss your son?” “Yes, I am missing one son! Return it immediately!”)
– Homer and Larry are on the run from the cops. They first try and hide out at the old abandoned warehouse, only to find it’s up and running (“D’oh! Stupid economic recovery!”) Then they go to a costume shop, and we later see two men dressed as an organ grinder and monkey leaving the store. The shopkeep then goes to the bathroom and tells Homer and Larry they need to beat it. The two then find the perfect empty hiding place: a movie theater playing “Too Many Grandmas,” starring Olympia Dukakis and Bo Dereck. Based on the brief bit we hear, I want to see that movie (“Drive faster, Grandma! Grandma’s gaining on us!”) The two are basically safe until they make the mistake of heckling Hans Moleman. I love the timing of him slowly walking up the aisle with Homer and Larry laughing, cut to the cops surrounding the building.
– God, I love the simulation of Homer getting shot to death. Why would they waste money on doing that? And producing it so quickly? Jokes like these don’t make much sense, but that’s why I love them (“A bloody end for Homer Simpson… is just one of several possible outcomes according to our computer simulation.”)
– I like the end where Larry asks if his father can accept him for who he is and pops a cocky smirk, followed by Burns’s uneasy noises under building music. It’s not an easy decision, and he eventually goes against it (“Oh, I can’t do it, it’s just not me!”)