Tag Archives: The Simpsons Futurama

Top 9 Episodes Written by Bill Odenkirk

Hello, Hello!  I return with my (on average) monthly series of reviews, this time showcasing the work of writer, Bill Odenkirk, who’s brother you may recognize as the more famous writer/actor Bob Odenkirk.  My hope with these write-ups is to paint a clearer picture of a writer’s collection of work (from what I’m familiar with) so Bill, if you somehow came across this, I hope you enjoy the read even if there’s some criticisms I might have in particular episodes.  Altogether, Bill is a talented comedy writer, having worked on Mr. Show with Bob and DavidThe Simpsons, and Futurama.  His best episodes are simply great TV.  Unfortunately, despite having seen Mr. Show in its entirety over a year ago (including W/Bob and David), any episode of that written by him will not be included on this list as I don’t have the proper access to reacquaint myself.  Of course this can always be edited in the future.

Let’s begin, shall we?

9. The Simpsons “The Mook, the Chef, the Wife, and Her Homer” (Season 18)

Usually when I post a clip to introduce a review, it’s with the means to highlight a joke or a moment that I found particularly worthy (this one being no different).  In fact, this is probably the most prominent scene that comes to mind whenever I think of this episode.  It is funny.  Homer and Moe’s back and forth is sharp and the truck-truck-truck bit will always be an entertainingly absurd visual gag, but there are some issues to consider with this clip that reflects my overall opinion of the episode.  It all comes down to characterization becoming overhauled to serve the mafia-centric plot which in and of itself is pretty jarring.  What’s great about Homer’s character is the range.  Even as a mock mob boss, he’s right at home with how the Homer Simpson we know (at his best in this era) would approach this.  He has good intentions to do right by Fat Tony, the father, but is completely oblivious and incompetent to honoring the harsh scope of Fat Tony, the mob boss.  Even in a rather crude, Family Guy-esque scene of Homer, Bart, Legs, and Louie holding Flanders at gunpoint is something to be taken with a grain of salt.

However, it’s Bart who I’m much more concerned with.  Odenkirk seems to really be pushing the ‘bad boy’ image of Bart in an opportune scenario, but there’s something about Bart’s character throughout the episode that crosses a bit into a disingenuous place.  It feels smug and commercialized as if the episode is forcibly selling to you how bad Bart is here.  Compare that to season 3’s “Bart the Murderer” where Bart gets mixed up with Fat Tony’s criminal underworld while remaining consistently innocent to what he’s getting mixed up in.  That was an episode that had Bart stand trial for the possible murder of Principal Skinner while being framed as the mafia syndicate’s kingpin.  The promotional taglines of “Bart joins the mob!” or “Bart is a murderer!” is ripe for the picking, yet Bart still feels like a ten year old misfit who’s just got himself in too deep.  How is it that something so extreme played out much more natural and fitting for Bart’s character there, but in “The Mook, the Chef, the Wife, and Her Homer”, his brief moments (the episode not even being about him) of glorifying a life of crime feel so off?  Again, it’s a characterization issue.

At least a redeeming factor plays towards the end when Bart turns down the suggestion of him having a future in a life of crime (he’s much more content selling bootleg dvds instead) but it still doesn’t really fix the way he’s portrayed.  Even Bart butting heads with Otto in the opening scene feels iffy, seeing as the two are usually friendly with one another.  It’s an unfortunate example of sacrificing character in order to move the plot along, since the carpool with Fat Tony needed to be introduced.  The idea of Fat Tony’s son, Michael, being in on Marge’s carpool came from a throwaway line of Odenkirk’s previous penned episode, “The Seven-Beer Snitch”, thus leading to this story of the Simpsons brushing shoulders with the D’amico family.  The episode isn’t really going for any moral dilemma as Marge, who’s usually the family’s moral compass remains in the dark to what’s going on, and Lisa, the voice of reason, is more preoccupied with helping Michael’s gift for cooking to prosper.

It makes it all the more shocking when a hit is attempted on Fat Tony’s life and his son Michael ends up poisoning rival gang members  (voiced by The Sopranos’ Michael Imperioli and Joe Pantoliano) in the Simpsons dining room.  It’s a bizarre scene as if something out of a non-canon treehouse of horror segment and feels especially silly considering the Simpsons family does the equivalent of shrugging their shoulders in response.  I mean correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure that if three people were murdered by a child under the Simpsons’ roof in the classic years of the show, even in the more outlandish, experimental installments,  it would be something treated with a lot more weight and urgency.  That’s not what this episode is going for though since Michael’s intentionally obvious recipe (meat, spices, poison, serves 6-10 enemies) is clearly to be played for laughs.

This is a season premiere that sacrifices characterization for comedy and gangster film parody, requiring you to adjust you brain to enjoy it for what it is.  I did laugh or find scenes humorous several times throughout, but there’s no denying the missteps taken in order for this story to play out.  We know the show is capable of churning out absurdity while keeping the characters and universe intact, so it’s kind of hard to not take these criticisms into consideration.


8. The Simpsons “Crook and Ladder” (Season 18)

“Crook and Ladder” wards itself off from the more glaring issues of “The Mook, the Chef, the Wife, and Her Homer” but is still host to its own problems.  In terms of characterization, Homer’s actions are merely questionable when he becomes a firefighter who steals and the rest of the characters are pretty much on point as far as season 18 goes, especially when they find out what Homer’s been up to.  However, what is rather conspicuous in this episode is its fairly thin plot.  Usually The Simpsons or any show will use a subplot if a writer feels the main story isn’t strong enough to fill 22 minutes, but here instead, the episode is padded with a completely disconnected first act of Maggie throwing a fit when her pacifier is taken away before shifting to Homer’s habit of sleepwalking.

It’s one of those first acts where one thing leads to another before eventually landing on the episode’s central story but in this case, this material wastes nearly half the episode’s running time to do this and it’s not particularly done well enough to feel justified.  It’s funny in spots, but for so much time spent on two small developments, nothing much worthwhile is squeezed out of it.  Lisa repeating Larry Flynt’s name over and over is more grating than funny and Homer repeating “mood swings” in various tones felt uninspired, almost as a means to drag things out further.  That said, I enjoyed some stuff such as Marge’s smothering mother magazine (“The Deadly Truth about Oxygen”) and Bart and Milhouse taking advantage of Homer’s sleep deprived state.  Even the well-animated sequence of Homer crashing into the fire station offers some snappy physical humor and the final button to the act is something that made me laugh, mostly due to its delivery and how intentionally unnatural Homer’s line is for the situation:

“Oh my God, what have I done!?” – Homer

“You’ve horribly injured the whole fire department!” – Firefighter

“What are you, a travel agent? ‘Cause you’re sending me on a guilt trip.” – Homer

“Sorry.” – Firefighter

Still, in terms of motivation, the transition to Homer immediately becoming a firefighter (I guess out of guilt?) feels forced and slapped together as if the episode finally decided what it wanted to be.  When you’re 18 seasons in and ‘Homer gets a job’ ideas are far from anything new, you would hope that Homer’s motivation can at least feel earned.  While the firefighter’s premise of Homer and friends stealing from various establishments is again, questionable, I do think it’s a shame that this plot didn’t have more time to breathe from the get-go because as a whole it is interesting.  I like how it evolves from Mr. Burns not reciprocating any form of gratitude when Homer, Moe, Apu, and Skinner put out the fire in his mansion.  There’s definitely comedy and intrigue in having Moe, the most corrupting character of their group, feel validated by sticking it to the more villainous Mr. Burns by blowing a flying ember (under the transparent mask of good intentions) towards Mr. Burns’ loot room and claim it’s valuables as smoke-damaged.  From there, it becomes a tale of delusions of grandeur when they use this as an excuse to steal from the people they have volunteered to help.

The story of Homer and gang as firefighters is pretty simple.  They become firefighters, Moe persuades them to steal (besides Skinner who chooses to look the other way), Marge catches Homer in the act, Homer feels guilty and he redeems himself somewhat.  Primarily it’s more fun to watch these characters just be firefighters for an episode as there’s some humorous gags here, while the story is just there to push things along.  If Odenkirk didn’t feel the need to pad the episode out with an unrelated first act, as well as an extended couch gag, the story could have become more fleshed out (exploring Homer’s motivation and thought process as well as offering an ending that didn’t feel so rushed) while still providing a wealth of fun material to riff on.  Perhaps it would have been better if the idea behind the first act was saved for a story that could have used it more cohesively.  Other than that, I at least find “Crook and Ladder’s” free-writing (albeit lazy) approach to the plot, much more easier to swallow than an episode with a wide disregard for character.  It’s definitely good that Marge, Bart, Lisa, and Maggie don’t entertain Homer’s act of thievery with anything other than disappointment.


7. The Simpsons “The Seven-Beer Snitch” (Season 16)

Thief.  Mob boss.  Prison snitch.  Working backwards from how these episodes aired, you might notice that Bill Odenkirk loves to pit Homer within the criminal element.  “The Seven-Beer Snitch” in my opinion, is the better of the three because it’s free of characterization issues (for the most part) and makes better use of its A story from beginning to end.  The opening with the Simpsons family exploring the culture of Shelbyville and learning of its residents’ condescending generalization towards Springfield’s townspeople is funny and brief enough to establish Marge’s desire to build a concert hall to compensate.  This concert hall of an abstract Frank Ghery design becomes a creative playground from a story point-of-view as it’s ironically transformed into a prison once the concert hall’s initial hype dies down (due to Springfield proving not to be much culturally-invested after all). It’s an eccentric structure that becomes the common ground for keeping the plot focused throughout as Odenkirk is wise enough to take advantage of its unusual setting.

He even throws the audience off when we’re set to believe that the episode is going to be another ‘Homer gets a job’ story, especially considering it plays out with the same potential trap that “Crook and Ladder” would later fall into by having Homer automatically become employed in an establishment (firefighter/supposed prison guard) after something initially went wrong within it (fire department getting injured/concert hall’s lack of revenue).  And yes, while it still technically is a ‘Homer gets a role‘ story, the fact that he becomes an inmate, turned prison snitch (sporting a small hat ala Adebisi from HBO’s Oz) is a delightful twist which is executed naturally.  Also, Homer never commits any real crime and only becomes incarcerated due to the corrupt power that Mr. Burns holds over the prison, police department, and town hall, allowing for a lesser jerk-ass adaptation in Homer to follow.

Other than Joe Mantegna’s Fat Tony providing a throwaway line in reference to his son Michael serving as the spark for the idea of “The Mook, the Chef. the Wife, and Her Homer”, I like to think that Moe’s line at the Springfield Cultural Activities Board preludes to his behavior in “Crook and Ladder”:

“We’ve got to upgrade Springfield’s image.  Show them we’re more than just a town that’s still afraid of eclipses.” – Marge

“Hey, how ’bout we open a fancy restaurant and when people check their hats and coats, we steal them?” – Moe

“Why do you come to these meetings?” – Marge

“Free water.” – Moe

Obviously this is without conscious intention but I still appreciate any sense of accidental continuity even if just through a character trait.  Not only that but once the entire prison becomes aware of Homer’s snitching, his getaway segway is of the same model and design that’s used by Homer in “Crook and Ladder”.  Segway gags aside though, I like the sense of drama that builds once the inmates leak a false tip that a major breakout is going to occur.  By having Homer relay this to the warden (voiced by Charles Napier), it allows the prisoners to have free reign over the prison as the guards foolishly wait outside its borders leaving Homer completely exposed.  Marge coming to the rescue makes sense since she holds the key to the building from when it was a concert hall and she would have seen the news report showcasing (hilarious) thermal imagery of Homer attempting to hide from the mob of convicts.  When they both hide inside a gas chamber, Marge delivers a line that’s intentionally out of character and meant to be played for laughs:

“I want you to look into the faces of those poor men.  Each one is a life that you made worse with your ratting.”

It’s victim-blaming in a situation where they’re surrounded by murderers and scumbags, but that’s the joke.  It does take some bending and twisting in Marge’s character in order to deliver it but it’s immensely forgivable in my opinion.  Besides, even with her being a strong advocate for honesty, I like to think of this seemingly puzzling line as Marge’s way of protecting Homer in this particular situation considering there’s a time and a place for when someone should speak the truth.  In this extreme case, Homer needs the common sense of when to keep his mouth shut or it could cost him his life in the future.  Basically Marge values her husband’s life over instilling the correct message in him and I think that’s kind of sweet, even if it means that she’s willing to deal with Homer withholding the truth at times like whether or not he’s sneaking out in the middle of the night to grab a beer at Moe’s.

“I won’t tell if you don’t tell.” – Homer to Snowball II

If you could believe it, even with the main story being told as successfully as it is, there’s still room for a properly balanced B story.  When Snowball II has gained weight, Bart and Lisa investigate the cause, only to discover that their pet cat has been cheating on them with another family.  It’s a cute bit driven by a hint of curiosity in the fashion of Hansel and Gretel without any sinister catch.  The family that takes Snowball II (or Smokey) in is sweet, casual and loving and that’s all they are.  Even when Bart infiltrates the house, he returns to Lisa with pockets-full of pastry unharmed and willing to go back tomorrow.  I love the lack of twist or resolution here.  Snowball II is just simply happy visiting this family and even though it might bother Lisa, what else can you do?


6. The Simpsons “Treehouse of Horror XV” (Season 16)

In the season 16 premiere (and Odenkirk’s first penned episode for The Simpsons) Treehouse of Horror returns for its fifteenth installment and is quite good as far as post-classic THOH episodes are concerned.  Perhaps it’s owed to Bill Odenkirk’s experience in writing segments for Mr. Show with Bob and David but he manages to tell three fully realized stories, while also including an intro parodying lame 80’s sitcoms (shown above), without feeling like anything is being rushed to adhere to a strict running time.  The short-form seems to be right in his wheelhouse here and even for a non-canon episode he surprisingly doesn’t go too far with allowing looser characterization that tends to be more welcomed in these Halloween specials.

In my opinion, the first segment, entitled “The Ned Zone” (a play off of Stephen King’s 1979 novel The Dead Zone), is far and beyond the strongest segment where Ned suffers a concussion which grants him the ability to foresee people’s deaths, including Homer’s.  Ned envisions himself shooting Homer with a gun and becomes incredibly cautious even when Homer comically taunts him to do so upon learning of his strange foretelling.  It’s a clever tale of Ned’s attempt to overcome fate as he’s thrown in the difficult position of preventing Homer from destroying the entire town, which ironically only occurs by Ned’s very act of trying to stop him.

This is a fun, haunting first act containing some superb material such as the entire Hans Moleman scene, Homer’s “…but ice cream cake!” line, the core destruct button bit, and the messy garage that Homer was supposed to clean ending up in heaven.  I even like the runner of Homer’s frisbee throughout being the introductory cause to Ned’s concussion (Homer trying to get it off the roof with a bowling ball), the reason Dr. Hibbert died when trying to retrieve it off the hospital’s window sill, and ultimately the subject of a fakeout towards the end when God approaches Homer after the explosion.

“Homer Simpson, it’s time you got what’s coming to you.  Your frisbee!” – God

The second act’s “Four Beheadings and a Funeral” is a Sherlock Holmes spoof which shows Eliza (Lisa) and Dr. Bartley (Bart) in 1890’s London as they attempt to solve the case of the Muttonchop Murderer.  The murder mystery aspect and the fantastic use of shadows during night-time scenes are arguably enough to validate this segment scraping by as a Halloween segment, but I also find that small, supernatural moments like Inspector Wiggum trying to keep a live eel down his esophagus, Ned and his kids revealed as shrunken heads, or the inanimate stool coming alive from a magic potion are enough to satisfy the unusual tone of Halloween.  Plus there’s the episode’s second appearance from Kang and Kodos in a Victorian era spaceship and the surreal, disconnected twist of the story being a long, continuous dream of Ralph which helps an otherwise faithfully told murder mystery come off a tad more bizarre.

The last segment, “In the Belly of the Boss” presents a send-up to 1966’s Fantastic Voyage when Professor Frink mistakenly shrinks Maggie into a pill capsule that Mr. Burns takes with the promise of perfect health.  From there, the family must pilot a micro-ship into Burns’ body in order to rescue her.  This is a film that’s been tackled many times in the name of parody by an excessive amount of shows (Futurama included) but only because it’s a fun sci-fi premise to riff on.  I particularly enjoy Homer’s complete disregard for science throughout and although this is the least Halloween-esque segment, it still follows the weird theme of venturing into the unknown quite well, leading to an ending that’s rather horrific.

These last two segments are just merely good compared to the favorable first segment as they still offer some pretty funny moments that helps them remain somewhat memorable.  Upon airing, “Treehouse of Horror XV” is nowhere close to the best of earlier years but it’s still a good episode, especially compared to several later ones in its anthology.  Because of the creative freedom that’s offered here, I think this perhaps edges out “The Seven-Beer Snitch” as Odenkirk’s best contribution to The Simpsons when it was on its decline.


5. Futurama “Kif Gets Knocked Up a Knotch” (Season 4)

Futurama’s season 4 premiere examines the budding relationship between Amy and Kif which has been consistent since season 1’s “A Flight to Remember”.  When the long distance between them takes its toll, Amy sneaks into the Planet Express’s item for delivery (body-sized pill capsule ala Maggie Simpson) and veers the ship off course to meet with Kif on Zapp Brannigan’s ship, the Nimbus.  It’s an adorable disregard for Professor Farnsworth’s orders and a fine romantic gesture to Kif, who’s missed her for so long.  What I like about this episode however is how their romance is tested in a most humorous, unconventional, manner when Kif, being a male alien, becomes pregnant plainly from the act of holding hands.

It’s established earlier that Amy is happy with things the way they are and isn’t ready to move in together just yet, so when the news is dropped of Kif’s pregnancy, she can only feign enthusiasm.  For me, when it comes to the human element that grounds the story amidst its role reversal and backwardness, it’s about the act of trying in a relationship despite a strong, unmovable blot that will prevent you from being happy in it.  I think it works best when it’s revealed that Leela is the “mother” after mistakenly holding hands with Kif, allowing some leniency in Amy’s conflict.  It could be seen as an escape but the fact that she makes the decision to go forward with supporting Kif is a sign of their love, even if Kif helps nudge her in this direction by stating that despite who the biological mother is, he knows it was Amy who sparked the feelings he had in order to be pregnant to begin with.  Everything is weird and upside-down but there’s still a careful nuance to all of it and I think that’s pretty impressive.

It makes it all the more climactic when she finally breaks and runs out at Kif’s baby shower after it’s revealed that her parents turned her party board into an ironing board while Kif gives a speech that emits the notion of a trap more than a celebration.  It’s a difficult moment but a fair reaction for Amy’s character, having never prepared for being a mom, let alone ever knowing how Kif’s species reproduces.  A lot of fault can be put on Kif here, being a blind romantic who never made clear to Amy the culture and science of his own biology, yet there’s still an innocence with him that you can’t help feel bad for.

He presses on with the rest of the Planet Express crew to his swampy home planet in order to give birth, which the process proves quite pitiful without his ‘smizmar’ (partner Amy).  I feel as if his home planet, being this foggy cast of muted greens and browns helps illustrate an overwhelming sense of dread and bleakness which is a very important factor that’s preventing Amy from truly being on board.  In contrast, such a dreary backdrop helps Amy’s sudden return (being in just in time for the birth) become much more impactful and selfless.  Despite everyone else, she’s even unfazed by the grossness of his birth (shown in video above) which in light of her struggle indicates a sign of hope for their relationship.

Other than the party board/ironing board being a symbol for Amy’s youth and impending responsibility, her clumsiness throughout in performing a safe landing after riding with such grace can almost be seen as an opposite, metaphoric device for the plot overall, full of messy twists and turns, but which actually achieves a safe ending.  Amy still admits that she’s not ready but she loves Kif and chooses to stay by his side which is a greater gesture than disobeying Farnsworth’s orders in the beginning.  It’s conveniently mentioned by Kif though, that his offspring won’t need care until twenty years from now.  It’s a cop-out but I believe an earned one in retrospect because Amy still came to terms with her selfless, loving decision in a situation that was unfair without knowing this relieving information.  Regardless, Futurama would never drop a baby or babies on a character for the rest of the series.  It’s just not that type of show.  After an episode like this, Amy and Kif deserve a satisfying compromise and the swimming tadpoles is a pleasant note to go out on.


4. Futurama “A Tale of Two Santas” (Season 3)

After his introduction in season 2, Robot Santa makes a return, this time with the welcome change of Fry, Leela, and Bender bringing the fight to his headquarters on the North Pole of Neptune.  Although the theme of ‘fear bringing everyone closer together’ is retreaded and more blatantly presented here compared to the more understated approach that made “Xmas Story” so great, there’s still enough to defend why a Christmas episode with Robot Santa is worth revisiting.

For starters, the very idea of Robot Santa is too rich and inventive to pass up as a ‘one-and-done’ episode.  The original “Xmas Story” was already controversial from a censorship standpoint, being deemed too dark for an audience in the 7:00 PM timeslot, so pushing the limits even further for round two is exactly the sensational form of entertainment that should be encouraged.  Beyond that, scaling upward to Robot Santa’s ice fortress with such dreadful suspense is exactly the new terrain worth delving into.  I adore Fry’s unbridled determination to defeat “Santa” in order to put a stop to the horror reigned over Christmas, followed by an immediate resurgence of fear once their seemingly fool-proof plan of using paradoxical logic to ensure his self-destruction, backfires.

Upon their escape, Robot Santa gets trapped in the ice, leading to an opportunity of not only showcasing the depressingly optimistic lives of the Neptunians who have been thrown unsympathetically into the role of Santa’s elves, but also to show the humorous terror of Xmas from Robot Santa’s perspective, as Bender is tasked with delivering toys to New New York.  Watching Bender (who’s usually mean-spirited and selfish) trying to convince people that he’s not the evil Santa is fun material.  Being a robot who you would presume can’t feel pain, and a block-headed robot at that, you can’t help but laugh when he becomes engulfed in flames or gets repeatedly shot by Farnsworth himself when people refuse to believe he’s innocent as Robot Santa’s replacement.

When Bender faces imminent execution upon capture, more mayhem ensues as Fry and Leela return to Neptune with the hope of exonerating Bender by proving the real Robot Santa exists.  It’s commendable how despite the menacing overtones and destruction wrought out by Robot Santa after he escapes the ice, that the last act manages to still ironically squeeze in multiple, conventional Christmas tropes in order to resolve the story.  Between having to prove “Santa” exists, the Planet Express crew dressing in Santa garb as a hilariously contrived last resort, and Robot Santa surprisingly rescuing Bender and inviting him to join on his sleigh (slaying) as the real Santa would to a child, it’s all conducted under the spirit of fear bringing everyone closer together.  This is a theme that, again, while being dug out from its previously underlying subtext, at the very least redeems itself by providing a perfect lasting image as the Planet Express crew huddles together on the couch for security.

And while it’s essentially still using that same through-line in order to tell the same edgy Christmas story in an entirely different way, you can’t deny how much comedic mileage and replay value “A Tale of Two Santas” offers.  Robot Santa began as a great idea, but here, John DiMaggio’s vocal performance is uncannily similar to John Goodman’s initial adaptation, and the character manifests as a valuable, recurring staple to the series from here on out.


3. Futurama “How Hermes Requisitioned His Groove Back” (Season 2)

In Futurama’s first episode to center on Hermes (and Bill Odenkirk’s first episode ever written on this list), we’re fed a creative tale that pokes fun at the exasperated trials of bureaucracy, but fundamentally champions the idea of embracing what you’re great at, regardless of external forces suggesting otherwise.  It’s a daring episode to take a character who up until now has been underused, serving primarily as the straight man from a marginalized position in the cast, and give him an episode that buckles down on the monotonous, workaday life in which he holds so dearly.  The script basically dives head-on into the dull and uninteresting, only with the return of highly inspired entertainment.  It’s something easier said than done, but what helps things triumph is hilariously owed to Hermes’ ceaseless devotion towards a line of work that most people would file under tedious.

Hermes is literally prepared to jump off the roof over his accounting job which makes it interesting and darkly funny to the point where it’s difficult not to stand behind him when he’s sent away and replaced by Morgan Proctor (played by Nora Dunn), a no-nonsense bureaucrat who brings stricter regulations to Planet Express.  On paper, you might expect the plot will unfold in the familiar direction of everyone at Planet Express becoming fed up with Ms. Proctor, leading to the growing appreciation of Hermes, before finally asking him to return and save the day, but it actually plays out much more intelligently to befit the story.

Hermes’ leave of absence is a decision entirely of his own doing after Bender accidentally wrecks his office upon inspection, so his return solely depends on him rather than an adversary needing to be taken down or the crew having to figure out a way to guarantee his return.  “How Hermes Requisitioned His Groove Back” is about realizing your purpose and coming to terms with your undeniable self.  It doesn’t matter if Hermes takes his paid vacation on Spa 5, only for it to turn out to be a forced labor camp because he’s already a master of the prison that is red tape.  No shackles could prevent him from excelling in who he is and even though it’s played for laughs that Spa 5 is this terrible place that Zoidberg mistakenly recommends to all his patients, it turns out to be the perfect opportunity for Hermes to realize his self-worth.

“Organizing that forced labor spa rekindled my life-long love of bureaucracy.” – Hermes

“My Hermes got that hellhole running so efficiently that all the physical labor is now done by a single Australian man.” – LaBarbara

Since Morgan Proctor isn’t required to stand in Hermes way, I like how her story at Planet Express doesn’t follow your run-of-the-mill ‘enduring the strict boss’ formula.  Instead we’re thrown off guard when it’s revealed she’s madly attracted towards the messy, slob lifestyle of Fry which turns south once Bender discovers their hidden fling.  It’s here where this subplot becomes a rescue mission for Bender’s brain when she sends it to the Central Bureaucracy as a cover-up.  It’s wonderful how both Hermes’ inner conflict and the rest of crew’s run-in with Morgan seemingly operate secondarily in place of some inventive, situational comedy (you can feel the structure of sketch in a lot of Odenkirk’s material), yet the narrative still comes together, leading them all into the heart of the Central Bureaucracy, being a grand joke in all of its whimsy.

After a fantastic musical number by Hermes (from the help of writer Ken Keeler) you’re left with a humorous, yet meaningful message to just do what you love (even if it’s a bad idea!)  Don’t be afraid to do what’s considered boring or strange to others, because as long as it’s a healthy, sound thing to do and you’re happy and having fun, that’s all that counts.  Even when things get difficult, think of Hermes and remind yourself that you’re the best one for the job regardless.


2. Futurama “The Farnsworth Paradox” (Season 4)

Futurama wouldn’t have much of a comedic spin on the sci-fi genre if it didn’t explore parallel universes, now would it?  As frequently as this is touched on in film and TV, there’s no denying how much fun the idea of an alternate world is, and fun is exactly what Odenkirk has here.  Not only has Professor Farnsworth discovered a pathway to another universe without realizing it but he manages to confine the entire alternate universe within a single cardboard box.  Due to the destructive toll this random experiment has had on him, he orders the crew to destroy the box by throwing it in the sun (and also not to peek inside).

This first act is great for a couple of reasons.  First, the mystery of the box’s contents provides such a necessary build-up of anticipation for an incredibly cool premise while serving as a fine platform for comedy as the crew’s curiosity gets the best of them.  For instance, I love that Fry and Bender are completely satisfied when Leela diverts their attention to an identical dummy box filled with tangled Christmas lights and old booze without them questioning how that could possibly be the same items that were responsible for explosions and chaos in Farnsworth’s lab at the beginning of the episode.

*And yet, if you ever tried to hang up Christmas decorations, it makes complete sense.

Secondly, the set-up to this bizarro episode remains completely unceremonious and even dismissive to the premeditated exposition and rising action that usually plays out in any other sci-fi story which tackles this subject.  That’s not to say that showrunner David X. Cohen and Bill Odenkirk didn’t go the extra mile in considering the complex, technical logic and paradoxes that the episode will hold in the bones of its story, but it’s still a story that’s introduced to the audience in a very loose manner for the sake of comedy.  It’s hilarious that a parallel universe exists in something so mundane as what looks like a hat box and that Farnsworth is so oblivious and unimpressed with the creation that he’s ready to just toss it in the sun before the first commercial break.  The lack of build-up comes with such ‘anti-fan service’, while still giving the audience something special once Leela, the most responsible of the crew, discovers the alternate universe after flipping a coin on whether she should look inside.

What I enjoy about this other universe is how beneficially disciplined its presentation is especially coming from an eccentric, animated show where the possibilities are endless.  Beyond a wildly multi-colored sky, nothing too drastic or absurd is shown. On the surface, only slight aesthetic differences exist in skin tone or hair color when Leela is confronted with doppelgangers of the Planet Express crew.  Futurama as a whole is already a show that delivers the novelty of a completely alternate world to its audience so it’s more important in an episode about parallel universes to hold the magnifying glass solely over the characters as they face their alt-selves.

It’s funny how the alt-Farnsworth presumes that our Leela is an evil Leela simply because she comes from another dimension.  This seems to be a cliche’ or simple-minded assumption whenever the topic of alternate versions of ourselves is traversed in storytelling, because of course ‘alternate’ somehow means ‘opposite’ and ‘good and evil’ is a concept so black and white.  This is an episode that addresses these presumptions and uses it as a smokescreen, when really it’s about the characters dealing with familiar versions of themselves who have simply made different choices.  These choices were coincidentally determined from the opposite outcome of a coin flip.  Alt-Leela never travels to “Universe A” (our universe) because she lost a coin flip, whereas our Leela travels to “Universe 1” because it landed in her favor.  Even more surprisingly, alt-Fry and alt-Leela are married because a coin flip turned up heads whereas our Fry and Leela can barely ever go out on a date together.

“You mean you flipped a coin too?  And it was tails?  So that’s why you said you had to meet that ghost.” – Fry

“You really missed out on something, Leela.  That date was magical.” – Alt-Leela

“One year later, I gave Leela a diamond scrunchie and we were married.” – Alt-Fry

“Ooh.” – Leela

“One year later, I got beat up at a Neil Diamond concert by a guy NAMED Scrunchie!” – Fry

There’s a tension as the characters scramble to return home to prevent Hermes (the only person still in Universe A) from firing Universe 1’s box directly into the sun, along with valued amusement as they scour through a shuffle of various universe boxes after the Zoidbergs lost the one they came through.  With all of that packed in 22 minutes, it’s wonderful that there’s still a romantic thread of examination towards Fry and Leela’s relationship, which culminates to an ending where they decide to go out together despite the outcome of another coin flip.  At its heart, the episode is more interested in having the characters react to their own selves.  Bender, being the most selfish of the group, is infatuated with his golden counterpart, and vice-versa.  Both Zoidbergs are equally pathetic, yet our Zoidberg still manages to get taken advantage of when they role-play as the king of Universe A’s box.

“All hail Zoidberg, the king with the box! (*kisses alt-Zoidberg’s feet*) Now it’s my turn, maybe?” – Zoidberg

“The box says no.” – Alt-Zoidberg

The more I write these reviews, the more I appreciate Zoidberg’s character more and more.  Out of all the pathetic characters on TV, he’s just as unique and well-molded as the best of them.

“The Farnsworth Paradox” is an installment where if you wanted to, you can take the the time out of your day to find the flaws in the theoretical science that drives the episode, especially with the paradox of both universes trading boxes in order for each to own their respective box in which their own universe resides.  Or, like Fry ignorantly sitting on his universe’s box at the end, you can remain content with the entertaining half hour of television you’ve received without calling attention to the warped logic and twisting of reality in order to make sense out of it.  I personally choose the latter.


1. Futurama “Insane in the Mainframe” (Season 3)

“Insane in the Mainframe” is an episode that I originally wasn’t too fond of on first watch.  I found it psychologically exhausting as it takes Fry, our usual protagonist, and throws him into an aggravating environment for a strenuous amount of time, being an asylum for criminally insane robots.  As a viewer, it felt like I was getting repeatedly poked and zapped as Fry endured a punishment he didn’t deserve.  The more times I’ve watched the episode though, the more I’ve come to love it as I give in to its absurd sense of helplessness.  By doing so, the comedy becomes all the more illuminated and you grow to appreciate a character like Fry, who possesses such unwavering resilience as the show’s comical everyman, being one few and far between capable to take you along for such a uniquely wild trip.

The entire point to the episode is to push Fry to his breaking point which helps it feel all the more earned when the crew faces a life-or-death situation and he comes out the hero due to dumb luck of the delusions bestowed upon him prevailing as his superpower.  He may not have luck on his side when hoping a lottery ‘scratch and sniff’ (whiff-and-win) can ensure himself a retirement fund, and he may get caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time after becoming an unwanted accomplice in a bank robbery lead by psychopathic robot, Roberto, but when push comes to shove, dumb luck will always be his saving grace.  He’s not just a character that can travel 1,000 years into the future, but is one who, conceptually, can come out the other side of hell unscathed even if he gets batted around in the process.  In an episode that launches itself on the idea of ensuring one’s future, the events Fry endures becomes unequivocal proof that he’ll be okay.  At the end of the day, we’re all human and we’re all unprepared for our future.

Despite the hell Fry undergoes, it’s the comedy that’s found throughout which really shines within the disturbed anomaly that is Roberto.  How does a robot malfunction to the point of satirically mimicking every fictitious criminal cliche’?  How is it that this robot is so predictably evil yet can’t be controlled to an extent where he robs the same bank three times throughout the episode?  The fact that Roberto runs eternally free in Futurama’s world is just so side-splittingly funny to me.  He’s like a Sideshow Bob to the show but with less stall and more stab.  His hammerhead design is frighteningly fitting yet unsuspicious.  The whole time you’re waiting for that glimpse of sympathy he may have towards his victim, but it’s always immediately met with hilarious mercilessness.  Roberto is a character that just can’t be figured out, yet clearly should have been stopped long ago, except he’ll continue to somehow run rampant even after he’s caught.  His introduction to the show here along with the spoofing of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) is a finely demonstrated example of exerting humor from terror.

It’s also fun to see Fry act like a robot so unconvincingly in the last act, especially as it’s an amusing transition from nobody taking Fry’s plea for help seriously throughout most of the story to “Robot Fry” not taking any of their pleas seriously.  It’s sweet to see he eventually receives the strong concern for his well-being that he originally needed under such bizarre circumstances.  Overall, there’s an energy to this episode I really love.  The jokes come at you at a mile a minute and it’s another episode that’s rooted firmly in the city of New New York which can sometimes be the most appealing setting for me.  The animation direction is consistently on top of its game with the beautiful establishing shots like the opening truck-in on Planet Express Headquarters across a 3D body of water or the swarm of police hovercars surrounding the building towards the end.  I can’t tell you how many times I replay Roberto’s manic leap from the top story window.  It’s animated so frenetically and for a flashing millisecond before he hits the ground you feel a bit sorry, if not ultimately relieved.

Side Note:  This episode marks the return of Judge Ron Whitey, an ‘Odenkirk Original’ who was last seen for his first appearance in the previously written episode “A Tale of Two Santas”.

To conclude, I honestly feel that comparing Bill Odenkirk’s work on Futurama to that of The Simpsons is night and day.  It’s not a criticism of his talent as a writer, but simply that he wrote for Futurama when the show was fresh and in the top quality of its time.  There’s so much potential to work with there.  However, you can find the greatest writer in the universe and put them on the current Simpsons staff and they’re just not going to get it exactly right.  It’s a miracle when a great post-classic episode comes through simply because the classic run of The Simpsons has already long-done what it was meant to do.  That said, I still think he’s funny and brings something worthwhile to the show passed its prime as best as anyone else could.

What do you guys think?

 

 

 

Top 6 Episodes Written by Jeff Westbrook

Hello again! We continue this time around by exploring the work of writer, Jeff Westbrook, a former algorithms researcher who has worked on both The Simpsons and Futurama.  You might have caught on by now that these lists tend to be pretty Simpsons-centric but I promise I’ll try to mix things up in the future.  At the moment I’m choosing to highlight writers who share the lowest amount of cross-credit with other shows so that I don’t have to overwork myself with writing reviews for someone with a larger resume’.  ‘Top Ten’ lists are ideal, but it takes a while to write these as it is, so I hope you enjoy them for what they are.  I will of course update any prior list I’ve created if I watch or get better access to more episodes from any writer in question.

Let’s jump in!

6. The Simpsons “Kill Gil, Volumes I & II” (Season 18)

The WGA (Writer’s Guild of America) award-winning “Kill Gil, Volumes I & II” tells a unique story but is inevitably bound to shoot itself in the foot due to what the story asks from itself.  At the heart, it’s a Marge-centric episode about how her exercise in open-armed Christian charity and generosity prevents her from saying no to those who might take advantage, but because an extremely tertiary character like Ol’ Gil is the perfect, most frustrating hurdle to overcome in service to her story, the episode can unfortunately feel as wooden and drawn out, entertainment-wise, as the feeling is intended to be conveyed.

Gil Gunderson is a fine choice as a subtle, manipulative mooch because he’s a pathetic sad sack, albeit a kind and optimistic one.  Marge allowing him to stay at the house after he’s been fired as a mall Santa (a moment of failure that’s usually played off as a quick joke for the character) makes for a grander gesture seeing as Gil, who was lately introduced into the series, has never been given a spotlight to this extent.  Many may argue that he overstays his welcome as a recurring, one-note, comic relief character in general, being Dan Castellaneta’s take on Jack Lemmon’s Shelley Levene in Glengarry Glen Ross (1992), so to commit an entire episode to Gil is risky on its own, especially one that dabbles with the Christmas genre.  That uneasiness is what the episode is going for though and it’s successful as Gil’s presence becomes more irksome the further the narrative progresses, helping to elevate Marge’s conflict. (A conflict that lasts a full year in the story)

I think what hurts the episode is the plot demonstrates little to no effort in giving Marge’s issue some emotional weight.  We’re only shown a quick, shoehorned flashback of Marge as a child getting bullied by her older twin sisters after refusing to hide their cigarettes.  In turn, the episode is pretty dry, which is the last thing you need in a Christmas episode that invites an underdeveloped character like Gil to take center stage.  “Kill Gil, Volumes I & II” is also starved for some stand-out jokes.  There’s a runner (you can take or leave) of the grumple, a grinch-like mascot character, that randomly pops up to ambush Homer throughout the episode, but other than that nothing too outstanding really helps carry things along.

The most interesting twist is towards the end when Gil finally takes on the Scottsdale realty job that he was procrastinating about throughout the entire year, just as soon as Marge finally worked up the nerve to toss him out of the house.  Because of this, Marge feels an enormous lack of closure so she decides to drive with the family to Scottsdale (where Gil has become a big success) for the chance to tell him off.  After she victoriously unloads on Gil in front of his co-workers, they all see him as the vulnerable, incompetent man he’s always been and once again he’s fired by his boss in the process.  Ironically this leads Marge to feel so guilty that the episode ends with a reveal that they have bought a new house in order to restore his position at the Scottsdale job and are shown singing Christmas carols with Gil, who is seemingly living with them.  It’s a cute but frustrating bookend and as initially mentioned, a unique, coherent idea for an episode, even if the execution is a bit stale.

If you’re looking for a substantial Simpsons Christmas episode, this is not the one.  If anything, the theme of Christmas while heavily present, only exists as a backdrop served to clash with a central plot meant to frustrate you.  Frustration is an important component to the story and because of that, it might not be a story that’s worth it in the end, depending on how you approach it.  In my opinion, Gil surprisingly holds his own better than you might expect and proves to be just as well-rounded and capable of sharing as much screentime as many of Springfield’s more notable residents in this specific scenario.

5. The Simpsons “The Wettest Stories Ever Told” (Season 17)

As the Simpsons family await their dinner at the seafood restaurant ‘The Frying Dutchman’, they relay three stories of disasters at sea.  In the first act, Homer hops aboard the Mayflower as a runaway with the help of Marge and the two become smitten with one another, only for a competitive Moe to try to squeeze Homer out so he could win Marge’s hand instead.  In the second, Bart leads a mutiny against Captain Principal Skinner ala The Bounty (1984), and the third act is The Simpsons’ take on The Poseidon Adventure (1972) in which a cruise liner capsizes and the survivors are tasked to escape.

Like Brian Kelley’s “Margical History Tour”, this episode is more of the same where the characters are thrown into a form of period piece, providing an opportunity for them and the Simpsons universe to take on a new aesthetic.  The only difference being that while “Margical History Tour” took on real historical subject matter in all three segments, the only one in “The Wettest Stories Ever Told” that’s sharing that same element is the story of the Mayflower.  While stories based on true events in history on its own doesn’t necessarily make the premise uninteresting, it’s still pretty apparent that between “Margical History Tour” and this episode’s Mayflower piece, the show isn’t really doing anything special with the premise that makes me go, “Wow what a clever Simpsonized take on said event in history”.

Instead, it feels like it goes through the motions at a rushed pace, barely taking the time to tell a memorable story, and only focusing more on giving the characters an excuse to make humorous quips and meta observations to what’s going on in the historically-themed plot.  For me, this approach to a segment is serviceable, but forgettable in the long run and unfortunately that’s how I feel about “The Wettest Stories Ever Told’s” first story.  It’s a pretty run-of-the-mill tale of the Pilgrims sailing to Plymouth Rock.  To give “Margical History Tour” more credit though, it does seem to make a better effort to let its segments jump out more even if it still resulted in a mediocre episode overall.

Fortunately what helps this episode feel more free and distinguished is that the next two segments are film parodies which enables the stories to be a tad more ‘fast and loose’ with its source material to the point where you don’t have to know the source material to really enjoy it.  Simply put, I find these segments to be fun.  I enjoy Weezer’s “Island in the Sun” playing when Skinner and the kids arrive in Tahiti, as well as how naively harsh Skinner is with his crew before Bart leads a mutiny against him, deservingly.  The last act with the capsized cruise liner has its moments too.  Not just with the delightful range of gags that Jeff Westbrook gets to play with, but I also like the limited adventure aspect it offers.  Having the characters maneuver through an upside-down ship, in design, is compelling and I anticipate who out of the group will ultimately survive.  And it’s cool to have these last two segments merge in the tag end of the episode by having Bart’s ship from the The Bounty parody sail aimlessly along the capsized Neptune in the search to return to Tahiti, revealing that Bart and crew are now ghoulish skeletons echoing the original Pirates of the Caribbean (2003). 

In the end, this episode isn’t a home run.  Obviously we are in season 17 by this point so you really just need to take what you can get, but it’s still not a bad one.  Just not one I feel compelled to come back to that much.  I will say though that I like the wrap-arounds for this.  With intention, it’s so shamelessly dull having the Simpsons family wait for seafood (early on Homer points out the decorative pattern in the wallpaper) and for that to be the reason we’re getting these three ‘disasters at sea’ stories.  I love how it becomes increasingly pathetic that the Sea Captain is never going to serve them their meal.  By the time you get to the third act, he is shown out the window playing ‘shirts and skins’ basketball with the kitchen staff.

“I’ll be fetching your food right away!”

*Turns to his employee*

“Six more games.”

4. Futurama “Teenage Mutant Leela’s Hurdles” (Season 4)

Since this is the most prominent clip I can find to introduce my written entry for “Teenage Mutant Leela’s Hurdles” and because Pazuzu is key to the narrative’s structure, I’ll work backwards in giving my thoughts on a story about Futurama’s characters aging backwards. Yes, the creepy, ominous Pazuzu ending is hilariously dark and provides a final, silly edge out of left field to go out on, but there’s no mistaking that he exists not only as a springboard to establish the impact that Farnsworth’s old age has on the rest of the Planet Express crew, but also to save Farnsworth in the end ala deus ex machina.  A story device that by no means makes a story automatically bad (it certainly helps when the thing that saves the day in act 3 is introduced in act 1), especially in any experimental comedy that allows itself to break the rules in order to value laughs and a fun premise over the preoccupation of tying a story neatly and flawlessly together.

To give credit to the Pazuzu ending, I like how it’s lampshading just by committing to it’s own absurdity rather than have a character come out and bluntly state (paraphrasing) “Well this ending was a cheat.”  That said, while I would never nitpick this episode for how it structures its conclusion, I do think it’s a more commendable and a definitely possible feat when a comedy can be funny and loose while still telling a tightly-knit story.  But I still completely condone the culture of comedy doing whatever it wants with its narrative as long as the characters stay true to themselves and the jokes are good.

All that aside, this episode not only has a fun concept to play with as The Planet Express Crew becomes youth-a-sized by accident when trying to “de-age” Professor Farnsworth, but it sets itself up as a unique opportunity for Leela to live out the childhood (or teenage years) with her parents now that they have been newly reunited since “Leela’s Homeworld” in the beginning of the season.  Not only that but she gets to date Fry as his younger self which proves to be sweet and endearing.  I enjoy the little sewer race they have against the teenage mutants and how it ends up with them, as teenagers, crashing through the mutants’ public school.  Just the usual teenage hijinx.

The main meat of the story is inventive in how Leela, who still possesses the awareness of her older self is the one as her younger self who’s trying to get her kind, lenient parents to set rules and boundaries for her just so she could feel like the teenage daughter to them that she never had the chance to experience.

Leela’s dad: “Well, whatever you’re really doing, don’t wake us if you get in after 12.”

“Dad, you’re being too lenient again.  I have to be home by 11.

Leela’s mom: “Okay, okay! You’re the boss.”

“No, I’m not!”

It’s cute but it’s also met with a sense of impending doom as Professor Farnsworth’s solution to bring them back to normal only increases the rate of their backwards aging.  Now they must get to the ‘fountain of aging’ on a burnt-out sun in order to restore their ages before they die of pre-birth.  Upon reaching said fountain, it ends up being a vicious cyclone in which the crew must escape from or else the overexposure will result in regular death of old age (or just drown).  It’s Leela, who is fine staying as her younger self, who must jump in to save the crew before they get swallowed up.  It makes for good conflict, although I could have done without Farnsworth’s blatant, expositional line, “No Leela, you can’t give up your childhood.  You’ll never have another chance at it!”

It’s a humorous 22 minutes though.  I find it funny too that Bender also becomes younger throughout the episode despite it making no sense considering he’s a robot (by episode’s end, he becomes a bending-unit start-up disc).  It feels completely in character though because Bender would be so self-involved that he would defy physics just to be included with the de-aging process that the rest of the crew undergoes.  What makes this running joke great is how it’s never questioned.  Other than that, one of the jokes upon recent rewatch that got the biggest laugh out of me was here:

*Cue Pazuzu*

3. The Simpsons “Apocalypse Cow” (Season 19)

In what may be the strongest episode from Westbrook that commits to one main plot throughout, “Apocalpyse Cow” is a touching, well-developed exploration of Bart’s fondness towards helpless animals which reverberates outwards to his familial bonds and beyond.  After raising a baby calf named Lou through his involvement at a 4H club, Bart is shocked to learn his prize cow will be sent to a slaughterhouse.  It’s a sensitive, conflicting subject which finds a way to naturally draw the entire family together.  Lisa, a usually dismissed vegetarian and independent thinker, feels a sense of closeness to her brother as she tries to help Bart free Lou.  Marge, admiring Bart’s rare motivation towards a noble cause, must stop her son from getting mixed up into a hillbilly wedding as Bart scrambles to ensure Lou the cow’s temporary safety.

Zooey Deschanel plays Cletus Spuckler’s daughter, Mary, who is delightfully more down to earth and three-dimensional than you would expect from the many throwaway caricatures that are represented in the Spuckler kids.  The wedding that is forced between Mary and Bart doesn’t take away from the genuine chemistry they share for the little screen time they get together which seems to suggest that Bart’s ability to care and nurture could be his saving grace for a happy future some day.  Also, Homer makes the ultimate sacrifice for Bart as he plays the role of a decoy cow in transit to what Homer mistakes as the laughterhouse. Comedy ensues.

In the past, Bart has owned a pet elephant that needed to be steered away from an ivory dealer and he’s raised lizards that also needed to be rescued from the chopping block, so “Apocalypse Cow” on paper isn’t necessarily anything new thematically, but it’s still a wonderful examination of one of Bart’s better qualities, and it’s played so sincerely without any characterization issues from anyone involved.  Most importantly, the script is just plain engaging from beginning to end.  Nancy Kruse provides solid animation direction too, breathing life into each frame from gorgeous sunrises to exemplary shadowing.  The color palette and unique use of musical score (a bit of a country flair) throughout really helps the episode stand apart from the rest of season 19.

Something else amusing I’d like to note:

I like how Jeff Westbrook’s more previous episode, “The Wettest Stories Ever Told” pays homage to Pirates of the Caribbean (2003) but here, he makes a joke of Bart turning fresh manure into Pirates of the Caribbean 3 (2007) dvds.  I’ve never really been too into this franchise (the first movie was okay) but I couldn’t agree more with Mr. Westbrook on the third, which I saw in theaters and just couldn’t take seriously.

2. Futurama “The 30% Iron Chef” (Season 3)

“The 30% Iron Chef” is a quick-witted, biting joke-machine of an episode that follows Bender’s passion for cooking, despite the fact that he’s a robot with obviously no ability to taste, and a lack of talent in cooking anything that anyone would want to eat, let alone survive consuming.  Not only does the episode treat Bender as a pitiful underdog (crying when he hears of the Planet Express crew’s opinions of his meal despite the tray of food he drops eating away at the floor like hydrofluoric acid) but he’s quite the jackass throughout.

A lovable jackass at that.  His character in general feels like what Mike Scully’s showrunning era (seasons 9-12) of The Simpsons was trying to accomplish with Homer Simpson’s character except it’s easier to get behind Bender considering he actually is a robot incapable of empathy towards others.  He’s a bastard and always was a bastard, whereas Homer went from the lovable, flawed oaf with a heart to a completely self-interested jerk.  A jerk who is still funny, but plagued with a sacrificed fall from grace in regards to how much richer his character once was.   What helps me love Bender as a character is that he’s a unique jerk, a more fully realized and established ‘Scully Era Homer’-type, and part of an ensemble group of main characters that balances his behavior with counteracted humanity.

That said, what I think is pretty bold about this episode is it gives Bender, the comedic anti-hero, a pass at every turn.  He ditches his friends after they refuse to eat his deadly brunch, kills his newfound mentor Spargle after cooking him a meal, uses that to throw in his hero, Chef Elzar’s face, then cheats to win a cooking contest against Elzar without any consequences.  Then he returns to Planet Express with the magic vial that helped him win only for it to turn out to just be water (he had the confidence to win the cooking contest all along!)….that’s laced with LSD causing the judges to give him high scores across the board.  Even the Planet Express crew are down to eat whatever radioactive deathtrap of a meal Bender stirs up next as long as he adds a dash of LSD.  Pull back upward on an establishing shot of Planet Express HQ played to Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love” and roll credits.  It’s so appropriate to play out the episode with a rock song because that’s essentially what the episode is to me.  Very rock and roll.  Dismissive.  No regard for morals.  Complete freedom for the episode to do whatever it wants but told in a very sharp, concise manner.  Not a lot of shows can pull this off without you feeling iffy that a line’s been crossed, but Futurama found a way very early on in order to make it approving and fun.  That’s a testament to the show that shouldn’t be looked over.

“The 30% Iron Chef” also has this funny, down-to-earth subplot where Zoidberg breaks Professor Farnsworth’s ‘ship-in-a-bottle’ and out of fear (“Oh no! The professor will hit me!”) he frames the accident on Fry.  I love that when Zoidberg tries to initially fix it, he makes even more of a mess with super-glue and uses a trenchcoat to cover up the spectacle of himself covered with random items (such as a cuckoo clock protruding from his neck).  He walks passed Fry, Leela, Farnsworth, Amy, and Hermes as unsuspectingly as possible, but they are more preoccupied with disposing of their awful food they have been served as Bender’s back is turned.

Zoidberg: “Casual hello. It’s me, Zoidberg. Act naturally. (The clock goes off and the cuckoo hits Zoidberg in the face) Ow! Ouch! Get off of me! Stop!”

Leela: “How interesting, Dr. Zoidberg. Do go on.” (Scrapes food into potted plant)

^ I love this scene because there’s obviously something absolutely suspect going on with Zoidberg but the Planet Express crew are completely uninterested with whatever his predicament is (they just chalk it up as his usual tired antics) so much that even when they try to put the attention on him to take away attention away from themselves, they still couldn’t care less what he’s up to.  Meanwhile, Zoidberg is oblivious to what they think and is riddled with guilt over his actions throughout the episode.  The topper is that when Farnsworth confronts Fry over the broken ‘ship-in-a-bottle’ (due to a note being left behind (“Fry Confesses. –From the desk of Dr. Zoidberg”), Fry is too stupid to deny these accusations and without a second thought he agrees to pay $10 to repair the model.

Zoidberg: “What have I done!?”

Because Dr. Zoidberg is so pathetically poor on this show (despite being a doctor), he becomes even more wracked with guilt when Fry pays ten bucks.  It’s material like this that’s just so chuckle-worthy to me, a subplot that takes such a non-issue and treats it from Zoidberg’s perspective as if it’s the end of the world as we know it.  It ends on a high note too when Zoidberg confesses what he did on the stage of the cooking contest and the entire crowd genuinely gasps as if they even know who Zoidberg is or about Farnsworth’s model being broken to begin with.  He takes the Japanese host’s valubale sword in an attempt to dramatically kill himself over his “crimes” but the sword breaks due to his lobster-like shell.

Koji (the host): “Oh! That sword cost 5,000 dolluu!”

Zoidberg: “Fry did it!” (runs away and woops like the end of a Three Stooges sketch).

Juxtaposed to the main plot, it’s funnier how Zoidberg confesses at the cooking contest over something so minor and insignificant but ends up getting in much serious hot water when he breaks the valuable sword.  Meanwhile, Bender is cooking horrible, deadly food that actually ends up killing his mentor, and he cheats in the cooking contest, but never gives an inch of confession or faces any comeuppance.  That’s comedy.

1. The Simpsons “On a Clear Day I Can’t See My Sister” (Season 16)

I’m sure those privy to the ins and outs of The Simpsons’ decline in quality are wondering why I would place a season 16 episode above a season 3 episode of Futurama, but it’s really pretty simple and not a decision I made lightly.  For one, on its own, an episode deeply revolved around sibling rivalry played to the comedic exaggeration of Lisa getting a restraining order against Bart, and determining the situation through the slapstick of a 20 foot pole she carries around, is material which stands out more to me than Bender’s main plot above.  Second, I’m a firm believer that if Al Jean’s early showrunning era (seasons 13-16) aired without the classic body of work ever existing (seasons 1-8), then the show would still scrape by to make it onto a top 100 list despite being a lesser presentation.  Futurama’s “The 30% Iron Chef” is more consistent and is hitting more highs with its comedy, but with “On a Clear Day I Can’t See My Sister” it’s still funny, if not quirky in its missteps, and has a successful, underlying, emotional element that really helps give the episode some oomph.

Another reason the episode stands out to me is the unnecessary nitpicking that seems to surround it (“Lisa is too mean-spirited”, “Bart didn’t deserve this punishment”, “The plot makes no sense”, etc.).  See, I think the first act of Bart constantly teasing Lisa and showing no sympathy or remorse about his actions during the field trip to Springfield Glacier serves as a pretty fair launch pad for Lisa to initiate the restraining order premise.  A premise, by the way, that operates loosely as an underappreciated sibling’s fantasy intended to play for laughs and never pretends it’s any less bizarre or implausible than it actually would be.  Even when Bart first hears of the restraining order, he (off-camera) “wails” on her which immediately gets him thrown in a jail cell as a temporary punishment from Chief Wiggum.  After that, it’s pretty fair game to allow Lisa to enjoy his punishment.  Any harm or discomfort she bestows upon him from here is all rather innocent and tasteful.

And while Lisa does have fun in poking Bart and takes advantage of him when the restraining order gets extended to 200 feet, she still owns up to getting carried away in the end, especially when she discovers that Bart is about to burn an effigy of her in the backyard.  Most importantly, Bart apologizes and it’s a moment of forgiveness that’s shared unconditionally between the two that, in my opinion, is surprisingly earned in an episode where their conflict becomes increasingly chaotic within an otherwise exaggerated premise of sibling rivalry.  Overall, I’m obviously not saying this plot comes anywhere close to The Simpsons’ peak emotional moments of the classic era, but it still sticks the landing in serving a story that’s rooted in emotion.  It’s not over-played or forced, which is something Al Jean’s showrunning era can very much be guilty of when trying to recapture any of that classic Simpsons magic.

From an animation standpoint, I’ve always loved the color palette and use of shading on the final scene, played to Herp Alpert’s “Tijuana Taxi”:

In the subplot, Homer becoming a Sprawl-Mart greeter after Grampa (previously established as a Sprawl-Mart greeter in season 15’s “The Fat and the Furriest”) runs amok in a shopping cart that crashes into a display of garden gnomes.  It’s a merely fine, inoffensive, ‘Homer gets another job’ story that was concocted primarily due to the buzz of the time of Walmart employees being treated poorly by management and not being compensated enough.  I must say, between Futurama’s “The 30% Iron Chef” and The Simpsons’ “On a Clear Day I Can’t See My Sister”, one of the other factors that made it tougher for me to place the latter in the better position is because I find Zoidberg’s subplot is infinitely more brilliant than this one.  In my gut though, I prefer many aspects of “On a Clear Day’s” main plot over Bender’s cooking plot…  I suppose it makes for a good debate in regards to what triumphs over what.  An episode with consistent, high comedy that dismissively plays to the beat of its own drum, or one with alright comedy and an honest, successful (but not nearly the best from the show) display of emotion between two characters.  What would you think?

 

 

Top 3 Episodes Written by Brian Kelley

Brian Kelley is again, not a writer I am all too familiar with, but for the sake of being able to throw a write-up together on the episodes of television he’s worked on (in which I am familiar), I will continue to take this as an opportunity to put the spotlight on a TV writer who may or may not deserve more attention.  In my opinion, Kelley’s work ranges from okay to great.  As a writer he’s worked on Saturday Night LiveNewsRadioFuturama, and The Simpsons.

*NewsRadio is a great sitcom but for now, those episodes will be omitted from this list because I’ve only seen the show a while ago in its entirety once.  The more TV I watch, the more these lists will become edited.

Without further ado, I present my top picks.

3. The Simpsons “Margical History Tour” (Season 15)

After “Simpsons Bible Stories” (season 10), “Simpsons Tall Tales” (season 12), and “Tales from the Public Domain” (season 13), “Margical History Tour” is the fourth installment of a ‘non-Treehouse of Horror’ episode featuring a trio of stories.  In the first act, Homer is King Henry VIII who is looking for a queen to bear him a son.  In the second, Lenny and Carl take on the role of Lewis and Clark who are aided by Lisa as Sacagawea.  And finally in the third, Bart is Mozart while Lisa is Salieri.  As far as these episodes go, nothing much special really stands out here compared to its predecessors.  Sure, the three stories hold some agency beyond the characters playing dress-up and each have some funny gags, but it all ranges from mediocre to pretty good in terms either segment being anything too brilliant.

Mike Scully as showrunner of seasons 9-12 might have been granted the impossible task of sustaining a show that would naturally meet its gradual decline just as any other show lasting that long would, but he still knew how to craft and deliver impeccably clever jokes.  Because of this, the fact that these trilogy episodes are non-canon and allowed to be looser in characterization, it resulted in “Margical History Tour’s” previous contenders to be pretty decent outings.  That’s not to say that Al Jean, showrunner of season 13 and beyond is incapable of sharp, biting humor (season 13’s “Tales from the Public Domain” specifically is a fine example of this), but there’s only so many times these types of episodes can strike gold.  These tend to be the hardest to write too, Treehouse of Horrors included, considering each segment has to tell a story in roughly seven minutes, and hopefully be good and funny in the process.

That said, “Margical History Tour” is by no means a bad episode.  It’s just okay and merely serviceable for what it’s trying to do.  I wish I had more to say about it.  Will there be worse trilogy episodes in the future?  Yes.  Will there be better ones? Certainly.

2. The Simpsons “A Star is Born-Again” (Season 14)

It was season 11’s “Alone Again, Natura-Diddily” where Ned’s wife Maude meets her untimely end due to voice actress Maggie Roswell’s departure from the show.  Afterwards we were met with a handful of episodes that focused on Ned’s grief and his openness to eventually date other women.  By season 14, “A Star is Born-Again” showcases a Ned Flanders who is still feeling lonely and misplaced (perfectly illustrated in act 1’s jellyfish festival being a place for couples to have a romantic night together), but he’s certainly not as bogged down in mourning as he used to be.  This episode is more of an opportunity to explore Ned in a glitzy romp with a movie star, Sara Sloane (voiced by Marisa Tomei).

Surprisingly the flashy romance between the two is actually not as hollow as you might expect.  It’s ultimately not an ideal one but the Sara Sloane character isn’t as wooden as you would expect from the type of character she’s meant to represent.  If there’s one thing I like about it, it’s that she isn’t portrayed as an antagonist with any ulterior motive.  She’s rich and famous, but she’s attracted to the milquetoast Ned Flanders.  That’s interesting.  Even when Ned rejects her proposal to have him uplift his life and move to Hollywood (which easily could have been the deal-breaker to conclude this episode), she still respects his position and without hesitation embraces the decision to move to Springfield so she could be with him, no strings attached.

At the end of the day, “A Star is Born-Again” in the very least contains a memorable premise, a unique mood and charm, and while it’s not exactly belting out laughs, it’s also not without them.  The episode obviously doesn’t compare to the peak Simpsons of the first 8 seasons but it’s a fine, inoffensive episode nonetheless which definitely edges out “Margical History Tour” by a wide margin.  And hey, it’s got a James L. Brooks cameo.  What’s not to like?

 

1. Futurama “Love’s Labours Lost in Space” (Season 1)

In the fourth episode of the first season, “Love’s Labours Lost in Space” continues to build the universe of Futurama by introducing two key characters (Zapp Brannigan and Nibbler) in a mission to save the animals of Vergon 6, while also exploring a unique trait in Leela that would quickly help distinguish her character from most female characters in comedy, animated or otherwise, and most specifically in this case, her role as a sci-fi heroine.  When Matt Groening conceived of Leela’s design, he wanted her to be sexy and attractive but “imperfect” due to having one eye.  An episode like this takes it one step further by applying the same line of thinking towards the dimensions of her character.

Futurama’s pilot appropriately titled “Space Pilot 3000” follows Fry, a young 20-something, pizza delivery boy who muddles through his mundane life unappreciated by those around him.  By having him be sent on delivery to a cryogenic lab and be blasted 1000 years into a whimsical future by mistake, it sets a precedent that this could be a show that caters to a young male’s fantasy for anyone who shares the remotest similarity towards this everyman protagonist.  And while the show’s universe does explore its unlimited, fun possibilities for a Slurm-chugging, free-loading misfit like Fry, I find it commendable that the introduction of Leela doesn’t exist as some attractive, imperfect “prize” for him.  There’s no objectification to her character which easily could have been the direction the show could have gone in if it was a lesser, shallower piece of work.

While there certainly is chemistry between Leela and Fry, it’s not entirely one of black-and-white romance.  There’s an indifference between the two that’s present and both combat their loneliness or sense of longing separately, until every now and then when they briefly cross each others paths.  In Leela’s case, it’s organic and human and if “Love’s Labours Lost in Space” establishes anything more, it’s that she’s flawed in her pursuit for happiness and the ability to maintain the standards she strives to hold up to.  And that’s completely okay.

It’s okay for her struggle to find the right man.  It’s okay for her to fall into bed with the wrong man (Zapp Brannigan).  And it’s okay for her to feel ashamed in the face of Fry and Bender when they learn of her actions, yet not have to make up for it by rebuilding some dignified projection of herself for them to respect .  The episode really explores the strength in one’s moment of weakness.  Leela owns up to a sense of sexual independence and is all the more stronger of a character than she ever was for it.  She was already humanized, but this is a half hour that really highlights the substantial depth her character harbors, making you realize that Futurama is a show reserved for her journey just as much as it is for Fry.  In the end, she comes away empty-handed in terms of her romantic conquests, but gains a companion in new pet, Nibbler, and that again, is completely okay.

The first two entries on this list aren’t grade A contributions but Futurama’s “Love’s Labours Lost in Space” is great television that I’d highly recommend to keep an eye on if you are about to start binge-watching the first season.  Funny too.