100 Favorite Shows: #88 — The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air
“I guess I could kiss heaven goodbye because it’s gotta be a sin to look this good.”
[Disclaimer: Benny Medina, one of the developers behind The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, was accused of attempting to rape Jason Dottley in 2008. The allegations were denied and Medina was not charged, but Dottley maintains his story. It was reported in 2017 by Advocate.]
The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air was a story all about how Will Smith’s life got flipped, turned upside down. As the iconic theme song indicates, Will (Will Smith, then known to most as the rapper, The Fresh Prince) was sent from West Philadelphia to live with the rich side of his family in Bel-Air, Los Angeles and, in so doing, launched Smith (the actor) into super-stardom and The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air into hit status at NBC, where it aired from 1990 to 1996. Created by Andy and Susan Borowitz (who wrote the pilot) and developed by Benny Medina (a music manager tied to Jennifer Lopez and Mariah Carey) and Jeff Pollack, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air was the perfect marriage of a music mogul transitioning to television and a rapper learning to act after massive, tax-induced debt. Medina and Smith met at a taping of The Arsenio Hall Show, but neither expected the legacy that would follow from their collaboration. Since it wrapped after six seasons, the series has lived on with massive syndication deals, a highly-anticipated reunion special on HBO Max, and a forthcoming, Smith-produced reboot on Peacock.
(Take a minute and sit right there. Really think about the fact that spoilers for The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air are contained in this essay.)
The legacy of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air is wide-ranging. There is the theme song, which is probably the only television theme song anyone can actually remember every word of anymore. There is the Aunt Viv debacle, as Daphne Maxwell Reid took over for the mistreated and since-vindicated Janet Hubert-Whitten. There is “The Carlton,” a dance to Tom Jones’ “It’s Not Unusual,” featuring the swinging arms and hips of Carlton Banks (Alfonso Ribeiro). However, the clear touchstone of The Fresh Prince is Will Smith, whose humor could be broad, but had such enormous charisma and personality that he was the most obvious mega-star television had produced since Dick Van Dyke.
The character of Will Smith, at the time, was hardly inseparable from the actor, save for the occasional over-the-top exaggeration of the acting (mostly played for laughs). It seemed like audiences already had a relationship with The Fresh Prince and much of the entertainment of The Fresh Prince came from seeing Will Smith interact with others, who juxtaposed his colorful attitude with personalities of their own.
The stuck-up, nerdy personality of Carlton created a chasm between he and Will, who was more free-wheeling, but the two still managed to bond together. Their opposing personalities formed a genuine friendship long before Drake Parker and Josh Nichols ever managed to do the same. Around the materialistic, bratty Hilary (Karyn Parsons), Will was largely amused, but he also helped balance out the extremes of her personality. And, of course, one of the beating hearts of the show came in the connection Will shared with his third cousin, Ashley (Tatyana M. Ali), who saw him as a role model. (Nicky (Ross Bagley) later occupied this role, too.)
It would have been easy for The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air to stick to these archetypes and the rote sitcom formula it embraced at the outset, but instead, the series allowed the characters to evolve and grow closer to and more tolerant and accepting of one another. Aunt Viv was strict and tenacious, but she also showed her trusting, open-hearted side. Carlton was entitled and soft, but was capable of hanging with Will when the situation called for it. And, of course, Uncle Phil was consistently annoyed by Will’s smart aleck tendencies, but loved him as much as anyone could; he remains one of the best patriarchs ever constructed in television.
Watching The Fresh Prince today, it’s hard not to be struck by how dated it’s become. I still dig it, but a lot of what’s considered to be cool and rebellious on the series seems to be decidedly stuck in the 1990s. The vivacious sweat suits, detached “smell ya later” insults, and the sort of rap music that is bouncy and tells a sing-songy story are all hallmarks of both The Fresh Prince and its namesake. However, just as the theme song has become undeniably timeless (shoutout to Quincy Jones, of course), the comedy on The Fresh Prince could be funny, even if a little corny. (Who hasn’t found plenty of hilarious nostalgia when thinking of Jazz (DJ Jazzy Jeff) getting thrown out of the mansion?)
One example of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air pivoting to humor that was corny, but then — promptly — genuinely funny comes in the season six episode, “I Clownius.” Following a controversial decision during his job as a judge, Uncle Phil receives a death threat and the Banks family later has to distract a clown, Juggles (Dorien Wilson), with a bomb strapped to his chest from killing them all. As sitcoms tend to do with clowns, the cast has plenty of fun throwing all the gags (and pies and seltzer water and so on) back in the clown’s face. Yet, these corny gags are hardly as funny as Will ceasing his own silliness and pointedly saying to Juggles, “You suck.”
“I, Clownius” also features a crucial moment when the lower class perspective of Will contrasts directly with that of the high-class world into which he’s thrust. When the threatening letters first come in to the Banks household, Uncle Phil is dismissive, but Will tells the story of his friend, Bobo, from West Philly, who received similar letters. One day, “BAM!” Will loudly exclaims (and Smith commands the stage completely), before stating that Bobo had simply moved away one day; he didn’t get whacked.
While a ton of comedy was mined from the culture clash and fish-out-of-water tropes that came when Will lived with the Banks family, sometimes there was enough humor right in the home of that Bel-Air mansion. After all, their heat-check, laugh-line character was the perfectly constructed and always-delightful-when-seen-on-screen Geoffrey (Joseph Marcell), the family’s sarcastic, British butler. (When Uncle Phil attempts to kill a cricket with air freshener, Geoffrey quips, “Perhaps the scent of sea breeze will recall some painful memories for him and then he’ll commit suicide.”)
The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, by its very nature of depicting an opulent black family (after all, they had a butler!) in a mainstream manner (critical in the history of television), is an important show, but it also showed it had a heart for the big topics. (Season one’s “Mistaken Identity” is a major example, as it deals with topics of racial profiling and police corruption through the purview of Carlton’s hitherto unchallenged privilege.) Ultimately, the legacy of The Fresh Prince is of two halves: this thoughtful, nuanced side and the absurdly silly side. Most of the time, The Fresh Prince and, by extension, Carlton just wanted to have fun, whether it came in the form of his well-timed, high-pitched wails or in a seminal, unparalleled moment when he uses these screams to run off the set of the show and into the studio audience.
Ultimately, I’ll remember The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and love it for how fun it was at every turn. Yet, it’s also hard to forget how much of its legacy is tied to the season four installment, “Papa’s Got a Brand New Excuse,” which brings Will’s estranged father, Lou (Ben Vereen), back into his life after over a decade. It’s an episode so iconic that it not only spawned its own slew of Facebook memes spewing misinformation (don’t believe everything you see on social media, folks!), but it’s practically the first thing people think of when they remember The Fresh Prince.
When The Fresh Prince first began, Smith was not an actor, nor was he sure he was capable of growing into the role of one. But by this point in season four, he was undoubtedly equipped for the stakes of the episode, which strip Will from his father once again, breaking the innocence he rediscovered when he thought his deadbeat dad had really changed this time. After Lou first appears, Will’s exuberant personality is immediately muted and he stops cracking jokes for a rare instance in the entire series. The dialogue they exchange is solemn and not humorous, which always makes for a jarring shift when sitcoms follow the dramatic, tear-jerking route for an episode.
The only character who matches Will’s initial skepticism is Uncle Phil. Hilary convinces Lou to stay at their home when he feels wary about meeting the Banks parents again, Carlton eagerly greets him. But Uncle Phil is a man who is experienced with Lou and people like Lou and, therefore, his principles posit him as instantly confrontational with the returning father.
This demeanor remains icy throughout “Papa’s Got a Brand New Excuse,” even though Will grows steadily fonder of Lou to the point where he’s ready to leave the Banks altogether and make up for lost time with his father. At first, Uncle Phil meets this decision with unyielding opposition. No matter how much Will convinces himself Lou has changed or that forgiveness is possible, Uncle Phil is unable to do the same. Their argument boils to the point where Will snaps, “You are not my father!,” a factual (if not emotionally true) sentiment that clearly wounds Uncle Phil. Still, we can deduce from Smith’s performance that the words ring hollow even for him.
He’s only trying to convince himself of Lou’s merit by this point, which is what Uncle Phil realizes in his own argument with the dad who turned up randomly. It’s not about posturing and proving oneself to be a better caretaker for someone who’s just a scared kid; it’s about how you’re there for them. While Lou deliberately gets Will’s hopes up and preys upon the idolization kids can’t help but feel for their parents, Uncle Phil decides to take a step back and give Will the space he needs to hash out his feelings towards Lou. Reluctantly, Uncle Phil accepts that Will has to learn this particular truth for himself.
Of course, Lou does successfully dip out of Will’s life once again, conjuring up some phony reason for leaving. It’s a reason that’s so obviously fake and half-baked that it barely registers in my own recollection and note-taking of the episode. The point is that he’s leaving again, not why he’s leaving.
At first, after Lou’s departure, Will seems to be putting on another front of jokes and “hunnies” to date and a brash, “it doesn’t bother me” type persona, but he quickly reveals the emotional turmoil churning throughout his mind and body. Eventually, Will’s breakdown cascades through an itemized list of everything he learned to do without his father. With a “To hell with him!” shout, Will vows to learn how to love his future kids without Lou’s help, too.
The moment is tragic, but also triumphant, as Uncle Phil reassures Will that he won’t ever need Lou to be successful in life. But even that’s not enough to mask the heartbreak that just transpired. No matter how determined one is, no matter how put together one is, the loss of a father is impossible to shake. At the end of his breakdown, Will can only muster a quivering lip and a tearful, “How come he don’t want me, man?” From there, no more words are spoken as a hug of raw emotion (contrasted with the earlier, more stilted hug between Will and Uncle Phil) breaks out between the two with Uncle Phil knocking off Will’s hat and cradling his neck — just two people connecting when one needed it most.
In that moment, Uncle Phil doesn’t need to search Will’s feelings for the affirmation that he has been more of a father to him than Lou ever was because he already unlocked that truth earlier in the episode. Instead, he can show that he’s a better father for Will by simply being there for him, comforting him, and letting his feelings pour out exactly as they form and contort themselves into an identity. It’s a moment of connection between two characters, two actors, and an entire audience, clearly. However, it’s also a connection across the television medium, showing that even a corny sitcom could deliver an emotional moment on par with any far-reaching drama. It’s a transcendent moment in a comedy that transcended all on its own, as it now celebrates thirty years of clowns, fourth wall breaks, easily memorized theme song lyrics, and hugs between two people who loved each other for all their differences.
