If animation provides moving pictures with the “anything goes” option, which is the hallmark of the arts post-20th century, then “South Park” must epitomize animation’s greatest achievement.
At least in the FCC-regulated television industry.
The actual animation of the show is, of course, deliberately and hilariously crude. The “envelope” the show has pushed since first airing in 1997 is a cultural one — a very American set of standards that makes “South Park’s” international success a bit of a surprise.
Cable television found its calling sometime in the late ’80s as the “grown-up” alternative to network programming. In spite of the puzzling content limitations on programming that is both paid and commercial, cable channels are given more flexibility than broadcast networks.
The birth of Comedy Central was destined to bring about increased awareness of the double standards differentiating movie channels, commercial cable stations and the old-style networks, based on the fact that humor is, since the ancient Greeks and before, intimately connected to scatology.
The taboo of “bad language” in our culture is also prime ground for comedy.
Along comes “South Park.” Matt Stone and Trey Parker, two Colorado kids fresh out of college, started the series as an animated short used as a friend’s online Christmas card.
“The Spirit of Christmas” introduced Stan, Kyle, Kenny and Cartman — four youths with only passing concerns for using terms like “pig f-cker” in front of Jesus himself.
The rough-but-amusing short made the rounds and landed the two a deal to work on a program for Comedy Central. The premiere episode, “Cartman Gets an Anal Probe,” was hand-made by Parker and Stone and a few friends, using construction paper and stop-action photography.
Later episodes, to the pair’s relief, were done on computer.
The first season made an indelible impression on cable broadcasting, taking cartoons beyond the sophistication of “The Simpsons.” The humor and satire of “South Park” made previous televised animation seem tame and conservative.
Satire is a delicate implement, often pushed so far that it loses its humorous component. In the first season, “South Park’s” creators demonstrated an amazing ability to balance just on the edge of excess. “Starvin’ Marvin,” in which the boys adopt an Ethiopian child, could be seen as a derogatory view of the Third World, but instead demonstrates the frequent stupidity and insensitivity of our own culture.
“Mr. Hankey, the Christmas Poo” is as scatological as possible, but the happy, talking piece of crap imparts a joyful holiday lesson.
The commentary by the two authors was excised from the DVD release by timid network administrators, but made available on accompanying CDs. The information Parker and Stone share on the series’ inception and the making of the early episodes is enlightening.
The plan, they say, was to present children as real children. Not the guiltless angels presented on primetime sitcoms, but as spiteful, self-involved little monsters.
Eric Cartman is the archetypal rotten kid — bigoted, foul-mouthed, and totally self-absorbed. His compadres (aside from Kenny, who rarely survives an episode) learn moral lessons in each show, but Cartman is the face of American consumerism and arrogance. If anything, he becomes worse of a human being with each passing week.
Season two starts with a bang. Instead of airing the conclusion to the Season One cliffhanger, “Cartman’s Mom is a Dirty Slut,” in which the identity of Cartman’s father was to be revealed, Stone and Parker instead give us “Not Without my Anus.”
The story features Terrence & Phillip, two Canadian entertainers whose fart-based humor is the perfect satirical tool for ridiculing those who would criticize “South Park’s” lowbrow comedy.
Parker and Stone claim that they were quite amused by the angry letters they received from people eager to find out the identity of the father of a cartoon character, which they reveal in the season’s second episode.
The second season features self-evidently humorous titles like “Merry Christmas Charlie Manson,” “The Mexican Staring Frog of Southern Sri-Lanka,” and “Chef’s Salty Chocolate Balls.” The latter prominently features Isaac Hayes as Chef, the series’ iconic utterer of double (or often single) entendres.
By the third season, a slump should have been expected. But it was not so.
“Sexual Harassment Panda” spends time on the Island of Misfit Mascots. To win the school spelling bee, Cartman gets “Hooked on Monkey Phonics.” The “Chinpokomon” fad grips the kids of “South Park” in a thought-provoking satire of the bizarre and inexplicable “Pokemon” craze.
It is amazing that “South Park’s” satire has not faded. In 1997, it seemed plausible that the show would remain incisive and funny for a few months, but it seemed certain that the humor would get old. With few exceptions, all three seasons now available on DVD are excellent to a show.
Unfortunately, there is no commentary track for the second or third season. On the bright side, all the DVDs feature introductions by Parker and Stone that were originally produced for the episodes’ VHS releases. These short segments are often as funny as the episodes themselves.
The astoundingly consistent humor that continues even now, in the show’s current, seventh season, must be applauded. Thank you, Comedy Central, for allowing cartoon children to say “asshole” on TV.
