17x09 Titties and Dragons

”Was it ever worth it? Was there all that much to gain? Well we knew we’d missed the boat, but we’d already missed the train.” – Modest Mouse, “Missed the Boat”

8.1/10. There’s something about Vince Guaraldi’s rendition of “O Tannenbaum” that’s utterly piercing. The sort of languid, underplayed, twinkling piano version of the holiday classic creates a certain aura. You could probably play it over footage of phonebooks being made, and it would still possess the sort of affecting holiday melancholy borrowed from the Charlie Brown classic.

But it also gives additional power to the scene in “Titties and Dragons,” the finale of South Park’s Game of Thrones-inspired arc, where they survey the carnage at the mall after the onslaught of Black Friday shoppers. As the boys wade through puddles of blood and rows of deceased shoppers with tablets and controllers lodged in their heads, there’s a sense of the futility, of the ridiculousness, of the emptiness of all of this that shines through without the characters ever having to say a single word to that effect. Their dumbfounded reaction at what should be their moment of triumph, coupled with Guaraldi’s score, tells us everything we need to know.

And again, that’s what this show does so well – pointing out the insanity of parts of our culture that we take for granted, while doing the same for the pieces of pop culture we love, be they of the Westeros or Peanuts variety. To the point, the way that the boys are left in shock after Bill Gates and the head of Sony throw down in a brutal, bloody showdown works as a commentary on the sort of violence regularly depicted in Game of Thrones. There’s the sense that as much as the boys like playing around in the world of GoT, seeing the sort of blood and brutality it depicts presented in real life is too much for them. I personally believe that generally, the level of violence on the show is appropriate to the series’s setting and tone, but Matt and Trey deploy their criticism of it in and effective way.

But what’s great about it, and “Titties and Dragons” as a whole, is once again the layers to that commentary. Far from just bashing GoT, South Park uses its tropes to satirize the harshness of consumer conflicts like “the console wars.” It’s not the most subtle message in the episode, but when Stan locks the doors and tells Gates and Sony’s CEO that it’s their turn to fight, it’s a potent commentary in and of itself.

There’s a sense running through this arc that in Black Friday and in new consoles released for the same holiday season, these companies have been playing the game of “let’s you and him fight” while standing back and reaping the profits. It represents a realization for Stan that as much as the debate between Xbox and PS4 has divided them, as much of a threat as Black Friday has caused, it’s only been the folks who profit from such divisions and such conflicts, who stoke them and stand to benefit. Instead of bloodying themselves, he leaves it to the people causing this war to fight it themselves, rather than whipping their customers into a frenzy, and the results aren’t pretty.

It’s not, however, all blood and guts and social commentary. South Park has the good sense to throw in some more casual but enjoyable Game of Thrones references to liven up the plot of the episode. The Westeros-style manipulations and backstabbing comes to a head here with the arc’s best running gag. Cartman’s back and forth with the old man who owns the “Garden of Andros” has been one of the funniest bits here, and between the old man foiling Cartman’s plans by ratting him out, to Cartman framing Stan and getting him grounded for pooping in it is the kind of ridiculous stuff that this show excels at.

By the same token, the gang renting out a mall-attached restaurant for a special event in order to beat the Black Friday rush is, like Randy’s initial plan, actually pretty clever. But making the event into the “Red Robin Wedding” is a genius way to both incorporate what is arguably Game of Thrones’s most iconic moment with the silliness of the mall and the boys’ conflict all at once. The expected double-cross is delightful, and it leads perfectly into Stan’s big moment and the ugly battle between Gates and his PS4-championing foe.

And yet, in the aftermath of that struggle, all that even Cartman can muster is a half-hearted “yay, Xbox won.” The boys seem to be in shock as they make their way through the gore and consumer products strewn about them and go to purchase the console that won. Guaraldi’s little tune plays, and the whole thing can’t help but seem a little empty.

When the boys finally sit down to play the thing they’ve been warring over, they are oddly subdued. They try to reassure themselves that this was all worth it, offering desultory observations that the media integration really is fairly seamless, and that the graphic are maybe ten percent better than they were on the last console. But it becomes clear that this is, at best, a hollow victory in a war whose spoils prove not quite worthy of the conflict it took to get them.

It’s then that South Park, in all its tradition-shattering, nostalgia-bashing glory, gets a little old fashioned. Cartman notes that for all the boys’ struggle and strain to decide which console would rule the day, they had more fun, drama, and excitement in fighting for their consoles than they did in actually playing it. All of this pointless division, all of this Black Friday mayhem, all of this corporation-stoked frenzy, comes down to another set of slightly better consumer products that will just see another minor upgrade, meant to demand another annual frenzy, come around this time next year.

Instead of giving into that, South Park offers an uncharacteristically sincere affirmation of the spirit of the season, that it’s not video games or toys or material things that bring value and excitement to our lives, but the people in them who fuel our imaginations and who we need not be divided from or risk bodily harm for in the name of the latest consumer product turf war. The boys have each other, and their continuing adventures, to keep them (and us) interested and occupied. The thought is nicely undercut by South Park inserting an ad for its own branded video game, but the point is still valid. During the holiday season, or the other 11 months out of the year, it’s not things that move us; it’s people.