Dear The Simpsons: it’s time we had the talk
As it approaches its 25thbirthday, Swéta Rana looks back on the greatest love of her life — The Simpsons.
I’m going to tell you about The One. The One who changed my life.
The One shaped the person I am. The One made me laugh until my sides were sore. The One made me smile, made me tear up. Snippets of The One’s wisdom and witticisms resound in my head (and, subsequently, across my Twitter and Facebook pages) to this very day.
But The One and I are not really acquainted anymore. For over a decade, The One has become increasingly tiresome to me. The One has lost the allure and originality that once held me captive. Thinking about The One today makes me sad. The glory of the past is gone.
But though it’s a mere shadow of what it once was, I still love The One. Despite the profound disappointments of recent times, I still love The Simpsons.
Once upon a time, The Simpsons were on top of the world. The oddly-drawn, bizarrely-coloured, disturbingly dysfunctional two-dimensional household made audiences across the globe laugh like nothing else. A simple set-up of a typical suburban family, perhaps the premise of The Simpsons isn’t inherently hilarious, but the situations and dialogue conjured up by a phenomenal creative team meant worker strikes, temptation of an extra-marital affair, and even a comet hurtling towards the planet all yielded endlessly quotable comedy gold.
As one exemplary drop among a veritable ocean, take season 8’s “You Only Move Twice”, in which Homer Simpson accepts a too-good-to-be-true job opportunity in a new town, uprooting his family and dragging them into unfamiliar territory. Whilst Homer is in his gleeful element (“Only management-type guys with a big salary like me can afford things like that… Guys like me! I’m a guy like me!”), the rest of his family are miserable: Marge is bored at home, Bart is frustrated at school, and Lisa is ill pretty much everywhere.
While Homer contemplates his family’s unhappiness over what he deems the little things, he’s eventually convinced by his upbeat and pragmatic boss, Hank Scorpio, to put his family’s needs first, as “it’s the little things that make up life.” When Homer exits, he just misses the sight of Scorpio, advocate of the little things, wielding a flamethrower and cackling maniacally. Elsewhere in the episode Scorpio is seen trying to kill an international spy, and blowing up France. Somehow the episode makes it utterly plausible that the episode’s resounding voice of reason comes from a Bond-esque supervillain bent on world domination. And it’s hilarious.
The humour of The Simpsons seamlessly blended unexpected contrasts, contemporary pop culture and societal references, as well as a hint of general lunacy. This is why much of it is so memorable. But its success is not solely attributed to its magnificent wit; The Simpsons is more than a comedy. Part of the reason it worked so well was because it never lost sight of the characters as thinking, believing, doubting beings. From one man’s citizenship woes to one woman’s entrepreneurial savvy, to a whole town’s deception by a smooth-talking Monorail man, the problems and issues raised were always viewed from a variety of perspectives. The Simpsons was a meticulous portrait of a city thriving with (literally) colourful characters.
And alongside all the Halloween aliens and impromptu group songs, The Simpsons possessed a raw emotional core. Building up identifiable, sympathetic figures in the central family, some storylines tugged the heartstrings mercilessly: Bart’s regret at breaking his mother’s heart when he’s caught shoplifting. Lisa’s proposed future dilemma in choosing between her perfect man and her imperfect family. And arguably the ultimate tearjerker: Homer’s sacrifice of his dream life, fuelled by his unconditional love for his baby daughter.
Nevertheless, despite my undying adoration for all these moments, I and an abundance of other fans ascribe all the above episodes to the Simpsons golden age: roughly season 3 through to season 9. Before season 3 the show is slowly finding its feet; after season 9 it rapidly slips and falls. The Simpsons turns 25 this month, but I gave up watching new episodes several years ago. Once the kingpin of comedy and sentiment, the cartoon now relies on cheap celebrity cameos and rehashed storylines (“A Simpson works for Krusty the Clown, becomes famous” is interesting once, but not twice). They even have a season 13 song poking fun at their own lack of creativity: “They’ll never stop The Simpsons… maybe Moe gets a cellphone… do-do-do-do-do… sorry for the clip show…” But awareness of its own entrenched shortcomings isn’t charming — it just makes the fall of a legend even sadder.
And so, with a heavy heart, I broke up with The One. But that doesn’t stop me looking over old photos, quoting past punch lines, reliving fond memories. I will never stop laughing, grinning, and trembling a lip at the classic episodes. I will never stop posting quotes on social media (sorry not sorry, followers). The Simpsons golden age instalments are easily the most intelligent, emotional, downright cromulent TV episodes of all time. I will never forget that.
Originally published at abstractmag.com on December 1, 2014.
