Don Hertzfeldt’s Simpsons Couch Gag is Tragically Beautiful
For those who tuned in to see The Simpsons‘ season 26 premiere (or its publicized crossover with Family Guy later the same evening), very few seemed to be prepared for the truly bizarre couch gag that greeted them.
Directed by Don Hertzfeldt, the mind behind the Academy Award- nominated Rejected, the sequence is a look at what The Simpsons might look like in the far future. And it’s… upsetting.
While a first glance might elicit a nervous chuckle at the warped portrayal of the familiar characters, the sequence is downright mesmerizing. Personally, there was something in the couch gag that resonated with me, and I found myself constantly returning to the clip for repeated viewings.
That The Simpsons has become a shadow of its former self is a common enough belief, so I won’t bother arguing the point further (though you can read a great account of the show’s decline here). Needless to say, for many people (myself included), the show has devolved from a heartwarming and hilarious cartoon that often held a mirror up to American society, to a shambling simulacrum of itself, little more than catchphrases, ludicrous premises, stunt guest star appearances, and pop culture references masquerading as jokes. Not only has the show failed to recapture its past glory, but it’s been getting worse and worse.
Don Hertzfeldt examines that downward trajectory and explores just how far it can go as the show jumps forward in time to episode 164.775.7.
The Simpsons (or Sampsans) of the year 10,535 (Septembar 36.4, to be precise) just barely resemble the characters we’re familiar with. Homer communicates in sentence fragments, punctuated by his trademark D’ohs as he slithers to the kitchen cube to meet with his family.
Compared to his children, though, Homer is a veritable wordsmith. Looking like something out of a Cronenberg film, Lisa and Bart can do nothing but repeat the same sentences over and over again. For Lisa, it’s to simply proclaim “I am Simpson” on repeat. Bart, meanwhile, can barely manage to form the words of his famous catchphrase. “Don’t… have… cow… man….”
Marge and Maggie are slightly more verbal, imploring audiences to “make purchase of the merchandise” and “hail the dark lord of the twin moons.”
The family’s devolution seems to have its roots in its very modern day problems. Like Bart and Lisa Sampsan, the current incarnation of the show resembles its past self in name only. Its reliance on its past accomplishments only showcases how far it has fallen (compare the season premiere itself, which focuses on the relationship between Krusty and his father, with the classic 3rd season episode that originally reunited the pair). As Simpsons ratings get lower and lower each year, it seems that its only purpose isn’t to entertain, but to remind audiences to “make purchase of the merchandise.”
But Hertzfeldt doesn’t stop there. Shortly after we are introduced to the Sampsans, it’s revealed that this future episode is, of all things, a clip show.
As Homer stares at his family, he thinks back to episodes of future past while Chopin plays in the background. In episode 20.254, for example, Marge affectionately paws at her husband’s face before proclaiming, “still love you, Homar.” In episode 37.211.4, the family gathers together as one of them says “we are happy family!” Another episode has Marge tell Homer in an alien language, “I will never forget you.” These past episodes are all united by one thing – they focus on the relationship between the characters and the love they have for one another, one of the crucial elements that separated Simpsons past from Simpsons present.
This love is completely absent as Homer snaps back to the present. He looks to his children, still yelling their single sentences, and at his wife, who continues to scream her propaganda to the audience. And therein lies the great tragedy; he remembers the past – what he once was. He knows what he and his family have become. He’s as powerless to do anything about it as we are, and all he can do in response – indeed, all any of us can do – is utter a mournful “d’oh…”
