“The Simpsons” is art--literally. The brainchild of Matt Groening, author and cartoonist for “Life in Hell,” parodies everything from religion to politics to fast-food franchises. His animated world of Springfield and its inhabitants are provocative and ferociously funny. This TV show has everything...except an "Best Sitcom" Emmy. When will Hollywood’s elite stop dismissing “The Simpsons” as just ink and paint?
The series began as a group of 15-second animated “shorts” featured on the variety TV program, “The Tracy Ullman Show.” After the show went off the air, The Simpsons-- Homer, Marge, Bart, Lisa, and Maggie-- took on a life of their own. They starred in their own half-hour-long Christmas special, the pilot for what would become a Sunday night staple.
The show opens up with the main title, in gold letters, emerging from a mass of white clouds, as a chorus sings in heavenly tones, “Theee Siiiimpsons!” The clouds part to reveal a seemingly peaceful town, with houses, a school building and a nuclear power plant looming over the landscape. Zoom in towards a classroom where 10-year-old Bart is writing on the blackboard, “Hamsters are not toilet paper” (well, something like that, you never actually see him perpetrate the misdeed). Three o’clock comes, and he zooms, skateboard beneath his feet, out the door. At the plant, Homer, the epitome of diligence, drops everything, his gloves, his helmet, his rod of uranium, and merrily leaves. Marge, the housewife, drives home from the supermarket, while little Maggie, contentedly sucking on her pacifier, imitates “mommy” as she honks at the other drivers. Lisa, the maverick scholar and tortured artist, breaks into a jazz solo in the midst of a school rehearsal session, and is shooed out, still blowing her horn.
Hands up--how many of us, right after we get home, scramble onto the sofa to catch what’s on TV? The Simpsons do the same-- in a hundred and fifty different ways (sofa collapses, sofa gets stolen, sofa is on the set of “Letterman” etc.). In its grossly exaggerated way, the Simpsons imitate life as it is, even if we don’t realize it.
For example, take Itchy and Scratchy, the cartoon-within-the-cartoon. They blow up, maim and disembowel each other in every episode, blood, guts and bones flying everywhere. Yet everyone in Springfield finds it hysterically funny. And we complain about “Power Rangers”?
No one escapes the scathing satire of “The Simpsons.” Catholics, Jews, elderly people, teenagers, immigrants, politicians, celebrities-- “The Simpsons” is an equal opportunity offender. Examples are: the workaholic Indian Quik-E-Mart clerk; the cranky, moody grandfather who rambles on about some long-forgotten era; and the wholesome, functional Christian family, whose patriarch likes to say “okely-dokely,” quote the Bible and cheer everyone up with his words of wisdom. He gets on Homer’s (and the audience’s) nerves. There’s also the womanizing, greedy mayor who sounds suspiciously like a certain member of the Kennedy family. And then there’s Chief Wiggam, the lazy, incompetent, corrupt police chief.
Marge: Mr. Burns has kidnapped our son!
Chief: Aw, can’t you people settle these things yourself. We can’t be “policing” the whole city, you know.
If you thought everyone’s making such a fuss over “Ellen” being gay, Matt Groening could tell you, “So what? We’ve had a gay character for 8 years!” Smithers, the groveling assistant to the rich old man, Mr. Burns (Burns being the stereotype of every capitalist we love to hate) is supposedly gay. Smithers has this sick attraction to Burns, a man twice his age (Burns is 104 years old). On Smither’s computer is a naked picture of Burns saying this message as he activates the computer: “Hello--Smithers--you--are--very-good--at--turning--me--on.”
The Simpsons themselves are the less-than-picture-perfect sitcom family. They go to church, and sleep through the sermon. They have family dinners, say grace, and then wolf down their food. Bart affectionately calls his father “Homer,” and Homer corrects him by a paternal “Why you little..” and tries to choke Bart.
Marge represents the stereotype of the perfect housewife. Her life is cooking, cleaning, and worrying over Bart’s antics. She lives for her family, sometimes a little too much. She agonizes over buying a new Chanel suit (on sale from $13,000 to $80) “unless it is something the whole family could wear.”
Lisa is the 8-year-old overachiever, the antithesis of her brother, Bart. She tries to win her family’s and peers’ approval by being smarter than anyone else. She loves books, jazz music and getting A’s. Her life revolves around school. When school was on strike for weeks, Lisa came to her mother, hysterical, “Grade me. (pant, pant), grade me, rank me! I’m good, good, good and oh so smart! GRADE ME!”
Homer is the butt of most of the jokes on the Simpsons. He is naive, childlike and impulsive. His life is doughnuts (lots), beer (lots more) and TV. Homer would sell his soul for a doughnut, and he does. As punishment, the devil turns Homer into a doughnut:
Marge: Homer! Stop picking at it.
Homer: Oh, but I’m so sweet and tasty.
Homer tries to discipline Bart when he misbehaves, like when Bart broke Grandpa’s teeth:
Grandpa: Look what your boy did to my teeth.
Homer: Oh, dad, you and your stories. “Bart broke my teeth.” “The nurses are stealing my money.” “This thing on my neck is getting bigger.”
Marge: Now, this is exactly what Bart’s teacher told us. You have to punish him!
Homer: Aw, Marge, look at that hang-dog expression, [Bart’s] learned his lesson. Let’s get him a present!
Marge: (growls) I don’t want to have to be the bad guy...
Homer: All right, Bart, since you broke Grandpa’s teeth, he gets to break yours.
“The Simpsons” takes a penetrating look into marriage and the intimate relationship between a man and a woman:
Homer: I’m going to the back seat of my car, with the woman I love, and I won’t be back for TEN MINUTES!
The show isn’t afraid to poke fun at itself. In the words of Homer Simpson when he starred in a commercial on public access: “Well, we’re on a crappy time-slot on a channel no one’s heard of, but the Simpsons are on TV” (refering to their original time slot on Thursday nights on the fledgling network, Fox).
And about the mass merchandising in the show’s first season, particularly around Bart “Who the hell are you?” Simpson? As Marge noted as she saw her husband, the mascot, on a baseball shirt: “A Simpson on a T-shirt...I’d never thought I’d ever see the day.”
Despite being raised to pop icon status, this brilliant show has been short-changed when it came to recognition by the bigwigs of the Emmy committee. Oh sure, it was nominated a few times, in the same category with “A Garfield Christmas.” Please!! Should a show that makes fun of Catholics, immigrants, old people and young people on a regular basis really be put in the same genre as any other “kiddie” cartoon?
The reason why “The Simpsons” can be so outrageous is that it is unrestrained by the limits of reality. If Matthew Perry exclaims, “Woo-hoo!” it’s silly. If Homer does it, it’s hysterical. On the other hand, “The Simpsons” is funny because it is all too real. “The Simpsons” is on the cutting edge of satire, allowing us to laugh at them and ourselves. To its critics, it’s too satirical for a cartoon, which is probably why it rarely gets recognized for a little gold winged statuette with a wiffle ball.