There's a scene in The Simpsons's episode "Lisa's Substitute" that I've always loved. In it, Lisa is smarting from the unexpected loss of her mentor, Homer was boorishly insensitive about it, and came up to Lisa's room to make peace after she's clearly devastated at losing the male figure in her life who inspired her and not all too pleased about the one she's been left with. Despite Homer's clumsy (literally and figuratively) attempts to start the conversation, a funny thing happens as the two of them find their groove. Homer admits in a roundabout way that he doesn't really get Lisa, that he is, in a shocking bit of self-awareness from the Simpsons patriarch, a pretty provincial guy, and he realizes that his daughter is different and bright and has a future ahead of her that will take her to places he can't even imagine. Despite that, he loves her, he supports her, and he wants that future for her, and it gives the two of them a connection at an emotional level even if they may never connect on an intellectual level. There's support even when there's not understanding, and that means a great deal to a young woman struggling with what to do.
There's a similar scene between Bob and Tina in "The Hormone-Iums". When Tina is struggling with whether to follow her (literal) dreams of becoming a soloist in the Hormone-iums, Wagstaff's preteen issues-based music group, even if it makes her the poster child for a point she doesn't believe in -- that kissing is wrong and dangerous, a development that affects her social life, Bob is there to listen. And like Homer, one of Bob's trademark qualities (and the one that makes him a good dad even if he occasionally, by dint of narrative necessity, brings his kids along on some pretty dangerous adventures), is that he loves and supports his kids, even when he doesn't really understand them.
Tina's still kind of a mystery to Bob. There's only so much that a middle-aged man and his preteen daughter are going to have in common, or that's even going to be comprehensible to them. But Bob knows that Tina is in pain; he can tell that she's struggling. And he may not completely get why, but he tells that he knows the Hormone-iums are important to her, but so is doing and saying what she believes. With the wisdom he can muster, he tells her that even though he's the adult, and even though it may annoy many other adults, they're her lips and she gets to decide what to do with them, whether it's sing in a puberty-based school choir, tell her fellow students the truth about mono, or implicitly, kiss boys at her friend's spin the bottle party. Bob may not always understand his daughter, but he can tell when she's hurting, he knows what she cares about, and he believes in her and her happiness. That goes a hell of a long way.
Which is good, because Tina needs that help. The episode does a nice job at drawing out the way Tina is legitimately conflicted by her circumstances. There's something inherently funny about Tina, because on the one hand she is a very passionate young woman with big dreams and unabashed interests in certain things, and yet Dan Mintz's subdued tone and the character's somewhat reserved demeanor wring the humor out of that contrast. But there's also a sweetness there, to a kid whose ambitions and hopes outstrip their abilities to make them happen just yet. It's easy to root for Tina, and it's easy to feel for her here, because she has to choose between what she wants and what she believes, and as small as the stakes are, that's a big deal when you're thirteen.
On the one hand, there are Tina's dreams of stardom. Her opening musical number fantasy about singing an ode to pimples to her fellow Wagstaffers, replete with top hat and sparkling lights, and her subsequent dream about how becoming the soloist in the Hormone-iums will give her not only fortune and fame, but respect and romance from her peers, establish what this play means to Tina. Here is her chance not just to be in the spotlight, but to express herself and move her up a notch in the social standings that she's constantly laboring under.
On the other hand, the episode adds the twist that the play would cost her, rather help her position within that social standing. Sure, it's the magnified drama of middle school, but there's real pathos for Tina when she's disinvited to Jocelyn's party. Tina hoped that "Mona-nucleosis" would be her ticket to earning the respect and admiration of her peers, and instead, it's threatening to leave her as a pariah. What's even worse, it's for a cause she doesn't believe in.
Tina bristles at Mr. Frond's scare tactics. His scared straight musical about the dangers of adolescent kissing have the patina of a commentary on abstinence-only education, but more importantly, its runs counter to what Tina herself feels strongly about when it comes to kissing boys. So she's put in a difficult position. Does she sacrifice her beliefs and her social status in the hopes of pursuing her dream or does she give up the chance to be permanent soloist like she's been dreaming about in order to stand up for what she believes in, and stand against her fellow students being misinformed?
Episodes like "Tina-rannpsaurus Wrecks" have shown that Tina is a young woman of principle, and that portends the path she ultimately chooses here. But what's enervating about this episode is that it shows she can also be very brave. It's incredibly endearing to see the reserved-yet-bombastic Tina push back on Frond by declaring that kissing won't cause mononucleosis, to see her prove that with a live demonstration, and to see her belief in herself and commitment to her principles be rewarded by a reinvitiation to the party she was so concerned about.
Tina doesn't have the same similarities with her parents as exist between say, Bob and Louise, or Linda and Gene. But that doesn't mean she doesn't have a closeness with them. And though Bob may not completely get his daughter, he gets when she's in pain and gives her the approval and support she needs to follow her heart. It's wonderful to see Tina encouraged and accepted like that, and even better to see her rewarded for being true to who she is.
(Oh, and Linda's wine shoe idea, and the pitch to the Fishoeders is much more slight, but still a fun sidetrack and an opportunity to bring in a bevvy of the show's superb side characters to bounce off one another.)
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParent2016-04-22T17:09:54Z
There's a scene in The Simpsons's episode "Lisa's Substitute" that I've always loved. In it, Lisa is smarting from the unexpected loss of her mentor, Homer was boorishly insensitive about it, and came up to Lisa's room to make peace after she's clearly devastated at losing the male figure in her life who inspired her and not all too pleased about the one she's been left with. Despite Homer's clumsy (literally and figuratively) attempts to start the conversation, a funny thing happens as the two of them find their groove. Homer admits in a roundabout way that he doesn't really get Lisa, that he is, in a shocking bit of self-awareness from the Simpsons patriarch, a pretty provincial guy, and he realizes that his daughter is different and bright and has a future ahead of her that will take her to places he can't even imagine. Despite that, he loves her, he supports her, and he wants that future for her, and it gives the two of them a connection at an emotional level even if they may never connect on an intellectual level. There's support even when there's not understanding, and that means a great deal to a young woman struggling with what to do.
There's a similar scene between Bob and Tina in "The Hormone-Iums". When Tina is struggling with whether to follow her (literal) dreams of becoming a soloist in the Hormone-iums, Wagstaff's preteen issues-based music group, even if it makes her the poster child for a point she doesn't believe in -- that kissing is wrong and dangerous, a development that affects her social life, Bob is there to listen. And like Homer, one of Bob's trademark qualities (and the one that makes him a good dad even if he occasionally, by dint of narrative necessity, brings his kids along on some pretty dangerous adventures), is that he loves and supports his kids, even when he doesn't really understand them.
Tina's still kind of a mystery to Bob. There's only so much that a middle-aged man and his preteen daughter are going to have in common, or that's even going to be comprehensible to them. But Bob knows that Tina is in pain; he can tell that she's struggling. And he may not completely get why, but he tells that he knows the Hormone-iums are important to her, but so is doing and saying what she believes. With the wisdom he can muster, he tells her that even though he's the adult, and even though it may annoy many other adults, they're her lips and she gets to decide what to do with them, whether it's sing in a puberty-based school choir, tell her fellow students the truth about mono, or implicitly, kiss boys at her friend's spin the bottle party. Bob may not always understand his daughter, but he can tell when she's hurting, he knows what she cares about, and he believes in her and her happiness. That goes a hell of a long way.
Which is good, because Tina needs that help. The episode does a nice job at drawing out the way Tina is legitimately conflicted by her circumstances. There's something inherently funny about Tina, because on the one hand she is a very passionate young woman with big dreams and unabashed interests in certain things, and yet Dan Mintz's subdued tone and the character's somewhat reserved demeanor wring the humor out of that contrast. But there's also a sweetness there, to a kid whose ambitions and hopes outstrip their abilities to make them happen just yet. It's easy to root for Tina, and it's easy to feel for her here, because she has to choose between what she wants and what she believes, and as small as the stakes are, that's a big deal when you're thirteen.
On the one hand, there are Tina's dreams of stardom. Her opening musical number fantasy about singing an ode to pimples to her fellow Wagstaffers, replete with top hat and sparkling lights, and her subsequent dream about how becoming the soloist in the Hormone-iums will give her not only fortune and fame, but respect and romance from her peers, establish what this play means to Tina. Here is her chance not just to be in the spotlight, but to express herself and move her up a notch in the social standings that she's constantly laboring under.
On the other hand, the episode adds the twist that the play would cost her, rather help her position within that social standing. Sure, it's the magnified drama of middle school, but there's real pathos for Tina when she's disinvited to Jocelyn's party. Tina hoped that "Mona-nucleosis" would be her ticket to earning the respect and admiration of her peers, and instead, it's threatening to leave her as a pariah. What's even worse, it's for a cause she doesn't believe in.
Tina bristles at Mr. Frond's scare tactics. His scared straight musical about the dangers of adolescent kissing have the patina of a commentary on abstinence-only education, but more importantly, its runs counter to what Tina herself feels strongly about when it comes to kissing boys. So she's put in a difficult position. Does she sacrifice her beliefs and her social status in the hopes of pursuing her dream or does she give up the chance to be permanent soloist like she's been dreaming about in order to stand up for what she believes in, and stand against her fellow students being misinformed?
Episodes like "Tina-rannpsaurus Wrecks" have shown that Tina is a young woman of principle, and that portends the path she ultimately chooses here. But what's enervating about this episode is that it shows she can also be very brave. It's incredibly endearing to see the reserved-yet-bombastic Tina push back on Frond by declaring that kissing won't cause mononucleosis, to see her prove that with a live demonstration, and to see her belief in herself and commitment to her principles be rewarded by a reinvitiation to the party she was so concerned about.
Tina doesn't have the same similarities with her parents as exist between say, Bob and Louise, or Linda and Gene. But that doesn't mean she doesn't have a closeness with them. And though Bob may not completely get his daughter, he gets when she's in pain and gives her the approval and support she needs to follow her heart. It's wonderful to see Tina encouraged and accepted like that, and even better to see her rewarded for being true to who she is.
(Oh, and Linda's wine shoe idea, and the pitch to the Fishoeders is much more slight, but still a fun sidetrack and an opportunity to bring in a bevvy of the show's superb side characters to bounce off one another.)