There is no happy happy, joy joy in Springfield today.
Yes, I know I’m mixing my 1990s cartoon references.
The tide of social progress, righting past wrongs and exposing powerful men’s bad or criminal behavior has ensnared two of my cultural touchstones from that era.
When the #MeToo movement first gained momentum with a cascade of accusations of rape, sexual misconduct or flat-out creepy behavior by a range of prominent men, I made a prediction. I said we should all be prepared to be disappointed by someone we admire as more allegations come out. Louis C.K. was one of those for me. Sherman Alexie’s downfall shook my wife, who has seen him in person and is a big fan of his books.
I did not expect “Ren & Stimpy” to be implicated. I was obsessed with that absurd, dark and often gross cartoon show—which ran from 1991 to 1995 on Nickelodeon and influenced future TV animation. It was like a punk rock version of the classic cartoons I watched on Saturday mornings as a kid, and it hit me right as I turned 20. Somewhere, in the dusty CD stacks in my garage, I still have the soundtrack album for that show.
All these years later, victims have revealed that John Kricfalusi, the creator of “Ren & Stimpy,” was sexually harassing teenage girls and had a sexual relationship with a 16-year-old animator, who then moved in with him. Kricfalusi, who was in his 40s at the time, basically confirmed that story, though he denied charges that he also possessed child pornography at the time. Ugh—suddenly that cartoon doesn’t seem so dark in comparison to the real-life drama connected to it.
If “The Simpsons” hadn’t become a hit, ‘90s boom in animation for primetime TV that brought forth “Ren & Stimpy” might have never happened. Which brings us to that show and how changing times have caught up to it, which is bound to happen when a show is on the air for nearly 30 years.
My fanaticism for “The Simpsons” dwarfs my feelings for “Ren & Stimpy.” I was a fan from the start and through the “golden age” of “The Simpsons”—roughly 1989 through the end of the ‘90s. The show accompanied me as I journeyed through college, my first jobs and my newly married days. I rarely missed an episode. “The Simpsons Movie” is one of only two films I own on DVD. (The other is Stanley Kubrick’s “Dr. Strangelove,” my favorite all-time movie.)
I still watched “The Simpsons” often until my first two children came along. Then, Sunday nights meant busy bath times and bedtimes, and I got out of the habit. But I watch reruns anytime I can, and I listen often to the audio of old episodes while I’m washing dishes, thanks to a streaming online station designed for the visually impaired. Among the collected detritus of my life, you’ll find “Simpsons” paraphernalia. I love the show; it’s an all-timer for me.
So when I first heard Hari Kondabolu talk about the problematic character of Apu on “The Simpsons,” I felt defensive—for a moment. But I like Kondabolu, and his argument is persuasive. The show’s writers over the years have taken nearly every stereotype of Southeast Asian-Americans and thrown them into one character, who also happens to be one of very few characters of color on the show. And then there’s Apu’s over-the-top accent voiced by Hank Azaria, who is white.
When “The Simpsons” debuted, Apu’s accent frankly didn’t register with me much; I was a young white male, and society in general was less attuned to listening to people who didn’t look like me—there’s still a distance to go with that three decades later. But I’ll admit I’ve cringed at moments with that character’s storylines and words over the years.
And society has progressed. We should all be working to make this world less sexist, racist and more accepting. Actions and words that we viewed as the norm in past decades don’t have to remain that way.
“The Simpsons” burnished its legacy by making fun of and subverting institutions, authority and expectations. It stood against Bill Cosby, a moral hero at the time, and President George H.W. Bush, both whom publicly criticized the show in its early days.
Which is why the show’s response to Kondabolu and his recent documentary “The Problem With Apu” is so disappointing. While Azaria himself offered a tepid “if I’ve offended anyone” apology after seeing the documentary, the show’s producers have no time for apologies. In this week’s new episode, while discussing a problematic book with Marge, daughter Lisa says, while looking straight at the viewer: “It's hard to say. Something that started decades ago and was applauded and inoffensive is now politically incorrect. What can you do?” She then looks at a framed photo of Apu inscribed with the message “Don't have a cow.” Then Marge says some things just have to be dealt with “at a later date.”
That response, accurately described by many as “toothless,” is bad enough. That it came out of the mouth of Lisa, the show’s voice of conscience and a social justice warrior in many episodes, is just sad. Maybe the show has other plans to address the “Apu problem,” as the show-runner hinted later this week, but this is what we have for now.
Countless other great shows, movies, works of literature, pieces of music and creative works have trafficked in stereotypes that we now recognize as offensive. They were a product of their times. That doesn’t excuse them, but it puts them in context, something Molly Ringwald wrote eloquently about recently.
But “The Simpsons” still makes new episodes. It has the chance to progress and deal with it creatively. So far, it’s punting on that opportunity. Maybe this is just another sign that “The Simpsons” crew should finally end the series. I hate to say that, but we’ll always have hundreds of reruns.
It all leaves me wanting to sigh and say “d’oh” in my sad Homer voice.