2013
20MAY
The Magic Xylophone - Season 24 Finale
Season 24 has ended; not with a bang, but with a blip. Of course, when this show does go out with a bang, it tends to be more of an implosion, so maybe a low-key approach is for the best. One episode, a side character plot that establishes backstory both nonsensical and unnecessary; the other, a Homer-and-Marge marriage crisis. As the well of ideas gets one more muddy pumping before its (purportedly) final string of episodes, I can think of no two other episodes that so perfectly encapsulate Season 24 (and the last decade) on a whole.
So, I'll keep it short, and give my thoughts on each episode separately, with a brief list of notes before I reflect on the season on a whole. I won't even do a Bingo card today, despite the fact that both episodes together could fill one and a half cards entirely.
"The Saga of Carl"
"Dangers on a Train"
What one word would I use to describe the season on a whole? "Lazy." Unlike last season's guest-star-and-pop-culture-fueled bender, this season was a mix of various recycled plots and side character adventures, but for the most part, they existed in the realm of believability. I guess I should resign to the fact that the show has grown out of any sort of high stakes or actual dramatic tension whatsoever; commercials will always lie, there will never be any game-changing events, and the writers will never again take any risks with characterization or mini-arcs within the context of the show.
I add that last bit because, as illustrated completely unabashedly in tonight's "Carl" episode, dramatic tension thrives on continuity. And in The Simpsons, continuity is non-existent, instead relying on what seems like little more than one-word descriptors for every major character on the show. (I picture a whiteboard in the writers' roundtable room with Homer hand-note style scribblings like "Carl: black; Lenny: White" for every character on the show.) Therein lies the paradox: drama is a result of shaking things from the norm; the norm is defined by continuity and characterization; the writers are afraid of challenging the viewers (both young and long-time) with emotional investment or changes in status quo, but still insist on maintaining some level of drama to keep viewer engagement instead.
Therefore, you get episodes like tonight's, with a "LEGO block" approach to narrative construction. Tell me; if it were Lenny instead of Carl that ran off to return to his family in Iceland, what difference would it have made? Actually, it would make more sense - Lenny already has a weird accent, and it wouldn't be nearly as much of a stretch to think he was Icelandic. This is the problem, though - any of the cast's hundreds of tertiary characters could have fit into Carl's place and not made one lick of difference. The writers then attempt to backpedal and say that Carl never really considered himself part of the group - which is backwards continuity that is absolute nonsense, and was divined on the spot merely to satisfy the need for dramatic tension in the plot, regardless of characterization or other factors. Do you now understand how lazy this show has become? How this paint-by-numbers approach is absolutely toxic to the show's reputation? Why so many of us late-twenty-somethings are constantly up in arms about the declining quality of the episodes?
Here's the thing: I want season 25 to be the last, so the show has the freedom to go all-out. Split up the family. Kill off main characters. Revive long-lost plot threads. I want to see how Unckee Herb is doing. I want to see Mr. Burns actually bite it. I want Smithers to settle down and happily marry. I want Ned and Edna to conceive a child. Anything. Fuck.
I know I'm setting myself up for disappointment an order of magnitude greater than anything I've ever experienced before, but maybe, just maybe, someone on the production staff will dare to put a foot forward.
Where will I go in the meantime? Well, with Breaking Bad starting up again in August, I might cover those episodes as a more intellectually enlightened sort of weekly recap - that show is brimming with allegory, color symbolism, narrative coherence, and some of the best triumphs of serialization in television history. It'll make a nice chaser for my palate, in other words.
So, I'll keep it short, and give my thoughts on each episode separately, with a brief list of notes before I reflect on the season on a whole. I won't even do a Bingo card today, despite the fact that both episodes together could fill one and a half cards entirely.
"The Saga of Carl"
- Synopsis: Homer and friends win a lottery, but Carl runs off with the winnings to his native homeland of Iceland, where he tries to use the money to buy a piece of history that clears his family's name. It's nowhere near as epic or interesting as it sounds, and is in fact quite stupid.
- Joke of the episode: The auditioning for "replacement Carl" using the only two other black male characters in Springfield. Predictable, but strangely bold for a show like this.
- As Ladybug pointed out, the episode essentially started out as a retread of "Million Dollar Maybe" from three short years ago, thus meaning the show is recycling plots from the same decade already. Thankfully, the plot shifted dramatically once they hit Iceland. Unfortunately, this is where it completely fell apart, too. I really liked the beginning; Carl was not the sort to betray his friends the way he did, so I was genuinely intrigued by what the outcome would be. Oh, woe to the 8:05pm version of me from last night.
- None of Carl's conflicts made any sense. It's been shown that not only did Homer, Lenny, and Carl grow up together, but they work together, and they are close friends. The sudden reveal that he didn't feel anything towards them was baffling, lazy, and just awful storytelling, continuity or no - which I will get to shortly.
- At least the episode had the dignity to stick with a single plot, despite falling apart entirely one act in. Rating: C+.
"Dangers on a Train"
- Synopsis: Homer thinks back to his and Marge's one-year anniversary, and sets to work secretly restoring a carnival train that the two had shared a ride on. Hijinks ensue as Marge becomes convinced that Homer's secrecy is the result of some sort of philandering, and so she begins to pursue her own secret relationship with guest star Seth MacFarlane, whom I can't hate entirely because the Vegas episode of Family Guy right afterward was actually pretty good.
- Joke of the episode: "Brain killed in fishing accident." Any time Homer argues with his brain is hilarious, and even though this one just kept going, it went out with a laugh.
- I thought Nelson was much older than Bart, yet the flashback shows them both as relative infants. Oops, sorry. Continuity promise.
- The plot is one of those sitcommy "third person omniscient married couple's misunderstanding" deals, but it's pretty engaging nonetheless. I do, however, wish that Marge had gone all the way to the edge with Seth (I forgot his name), like Homer did with Mindy, or she herself did with Jacques. Instead, she solves the entire dramatic tension with a daydream. Sigh.
- "This thing exists" is pushed up to eleven in this episode. Websites and semi-popular TV shows are all fair game. Sheesh.
- Of course Seth is given an opportunity to sing. That, and, there were an awful lot of Family Guy-reminiscent jokes here and there. Moreso than usual. They weren't terrible, though, so I wonder from whose hand they stemmed.
- The ending was almost perfect, though I feel like Seth and his wife shouldn't have made an appearance at all. That ties back to the aborted attempt at actual drama that they should have gone with, but, oh well.
- Yet again, an episode that sticks to its guns from start to finish, and is stronger for it. Rating: B+.
What one word would I use to describe the season on a whole? "Lazy." Unlike last season's guest-star-and-pop-culture-fueled bender, this season was a mix of various recycled plots and side character adventures, but for the most part, they existed in the realm of believability. I guess I should resign to the fact that the show has grown out of any sort of high stakes or actual dramatic tension whatsoever; commercials will always lie, there will never be any game-changing events, and the writers will never again take any risks with characterization or mini-arcs within the context of the show.
I add that last bit because, as illustrated completely unabashedly in tonight's "Carl" episode, dramatic tension thrives on continuity. And in The Simpsons, continuity is non-existent, instead relying on what seems like little more than one-word descriptors for every major character on the show. (I picture a whiteboard in the writers' roundtable room with Homer hand-note style scribblings like "Carl: black; Lenny: White" for every character on the show.) Therein lies the paradox: drama is a result of shaking things from the norm; the norm is defined by continuity and characterization; the writers are afraid of challenging the viewers (both young and long-time) with emotional investment or changes in status quo, but still insist on maintaining some level of drama to keep viewer engagement instead.
Therefore, you get episodes like tonight's, with a "LEGO block" approach to narrative construction. Tell me; if it were Lenny instead of Carl that ran off to return to his family in Iceland, what difference would it have made? Actually, it would make more sense - Lenny already has a weird accent, and it wouldn't be nearly as much of a stretch to think he was Icelandic. This is the problem, though - any of the cast's hundreds of tertiary characters could have fit into Carl's place and not made one lick of difference. The writers then attempt to backpedal and say that Carl never really considered himself part of the group - which is backwards continuity that is absolute nonsense, and was divined on the spot merely to satisfy the need for dramatic tension in the plot, regardless of characterization or other factors. Do you now understand how lazy this show has become? How this paint-by-numbers approach is absolutely toxic to the show's reputation? Why so many of us late-twenty-somethings are constantly up in arms about the declining quality of the episodes?
Here's the thing: I want season 25 to be the last, so the show has the freedom to go all-out. Split up the family. Kill off main characters. Revive long-lost plot threads. I want to see how Unckee Herb is doing. I want to see Mr. Burns actually bite it. I want Smithers to settle down and happily marry. I want Ned and Edna to conceive a child. Anything. Fuck.
I know I'm setting myself up for disappointment an order of magnitude greater than anything I've ever experienced before, but maybe, just maybe, someone on the production staff will dare to put a foot forward.
Where will I go in the meantime? Well, with Breaking Bad starting up again in August, I might cover those episodes as a more intellectually enlightened sort of weekly recap - that show is brimming with allegory, color symbolism, narrative coherence, and some of the best triumphs of serialization in television history. It'll make a nice chaser for my palate, in other words.