A good seven years ago, some friends and I were discussing The
Simpsons, and how the show had, of late, slipped into
mediocrity—relying more and more on meta-humor, fleeting pop culture
references, and a writing cast that seemed to be phoning it in.
“That all may be true,” one of us said, “but what are you doing this
Sunday night?”
There was only one answer: Watching The Simpsons. No matter
how far the show had slipped, it was still something we looked forward
to every week.
Many years have passed since I supposedly gave up on Homer &
Co., and, sure, a busy adult life keeps me away from the television
most nights, let alone on the Lord’s day—but there’s no denying the
euphoric bio-chemical reaction that happens in my brain whenever I hear
the opening choral wash of the theme. And sometimes I still race home
from work, hoping to catch a pre-dinner episode on syndication.
I’m not alone. There are millions of people in my age range (yes,
I’m talking to you) for whom The Simpsons is a habit we’ll never
be able to kick. But why, when so many other shows have come and gone,
has this one continued to throttle our inner children?
There are two reasons, I think. One is that the show is one of the
few cultural phenomena to have carried us all the way through our
awkward pre-teen years into adulthood. The second is that it’s always
been so multilayered that it’s appealed to bullies as well as
bookworms. For much of my early and teen life, a love of The
Simpsons may have been the only thing I had in common with the kids
who beat me up—they were in it for the crass physical humor, but
I understood it for its intelligence and subversion.
I can’t say I’m thrilled about The Simpsons Movie coming out
this weekend, as opposed to the show’s boom years when people like
Conan O’Brien were at the helm. But there’s no escaping the question:
“What else am I doing on opening day?” See you in line. SCOTT MOORE