The Big Long "Time-Skip" Episodes Review - Dorito Kids and Platypeople

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

The Big Long “Time-Skip” Episodes Review

Or, “gushing nonstop about the most perfect cartoon everything is beautiful and nothing hurts but can we please just take a moment to really appreciate what all this time-skipping has accomplished.”

This post began as tiny, excited notes following the air of “Tri-Stone Area” (that was a while ago, by the way) and grew into a monster. Georgia is changing her major to Phineas and Ferb, with a minor in ALL THE FEELINGS.

Let’s roll.

So this took a while to write out, but we wanted to wait until “Juachadoon” aired so we could include it in this four-piece review. Hopefully nobody thought we had died after the episodes aired (Georgia nearly did), but we seriously had to take some time to process these gems, or else this post would read something like “akjhaskdljfhifauehafdskjhksdfj” for about a mile.

First-off, major kudos to the Phineas and Ferb crew for the fantastic amount of production work that whizzes by in these episodes. Clever writing aside, we’re looking at completely new environments, character designs, color schemes, detailed backgrounds, etc, and on top of that: ancient booby-trapped temples, anthropomorphic canned meat, musical numbers complete with chorus girls, giant battling dragons, and oh yeah, ten thousand monsters. However short these episodes are, they are no small wonders of animation. We would take our hats off to you, but we did that long ago when we first started watching and haven’t worn them since.

So supposedly the best way to do this is to go in order of the airings, but we’re leaving “Tri-Stone Area” for last, just because.

Doof Dynasty

This was the first new episode we became aware of, through the “Way of the Platypus” clip. We of course originally thought it took place in the actual P+F universe, and that the show was taking some mighty strange turns if Perry was teaching the boys his kung-fu skills. Our other immediate reaction was Hey, where’s Isabella? You saying girls can’t learn platypus skills, Disney??? Huh??? Oh, it’s ON.

Eventually we wised up to the whole “time-skip” concept and of course we weren’t disappointed. Granted, Isabella does become the classic princess-waiting-to-be-saved-by-a-guy, blah blah blah, but there’s really no argument as far as gender is concerned, thanks to Candace. She really is quite a tenacious badass and deserves all the awards, surviving even the toughest physical challenges that Phineas & crew bypassed with their inventions. Unclimable Mountain of Unclimableness? Not a problem for Candace. LET’S GO.

But speaking of ~girls~, did anyone notice a definite attraction to Isabella on Phineas’s part? Sure, okay, the normal episode rules are being broken right and left, but mostly for the sake of coherent plot. But besides his initial “Isabella…” line, Phineas didn’t continue to chase her affections (we can assume the boys would have rescued her anyway. Also, the original plan was to ask Perry to do it). So this just left a big “???” in our minds. Possible foreshadowing that Phineas will begin to ~notice~ Isabella in the upcoming season? Or fluke? We’re gonna call fluke for now. But only time will tell.

We were definitely happy to see Monogram interacting with Isabella, or Monogram interacting with any of the kids for that matter. He’s usually all-business, but strikes us as an eccentric grandfather-type. Isabella interacting with Doofus-kha was also amusing, especially because he’s just so inept at being evil. At one point he falls backwards, struck by one of his own traps, and she catches him, which was almost funnier than the slapstick…that Doof is so incredibly inept, even his prisoner feels sorry for the guy. Oh Doof. We love you so.

The animation is just so incredibly flawless in this episode we don’t know what to do with ourselves. Next time you give it a watch, just gaze in wonder at Candace’s marvelous twists and turns throughout, Doofenshmirtz and his ironically smooth awkwardness while bumbling up the stairs, and that dragon at the end — lord have mercy, that dragon was GORGEOUS. Also, the dragon/terracotta soldier battle led to the best line: “They would love this in Japan!” Applause.

Last but not least, ”The Way of the Platypus.” Of all the songs from the new episodes, this has got to be the most hilarious, definitely the catchiest. All hail P+F’s genre-savvy songs, especially those with incredibly obvious lyrics. Baljeet kicked ass in this montage, by the way.

Exaliferb

Lord of the Rings meets Monty Python meets The Princess Bride meets THE SEEEEERRRRRRR. (If Phineas had put on his hood at any time during the episode, we would have dropped dead due to pure excitement overdose). We’re just glad it was a two-parter so we could bask in this universe for as long as possible.

The volume of awesome in this episode is at such high decibels that it would be quite a task to go on and on about each, so instead let’s just list some things:

Carl reading to Monogram a la Princess Bride. Also the “Academy” reference, hanging on Monogram’s wall. Yes.
Ashley Tisdale’s priceless voice-acting when Candevere was turning herself into different creatures off-screen. (“Oh…Oh no…Oh this is just…Oh. No.”) Tisdale deserves so much kudos for all her Candace work.
Vanessa was beautiful as the Lady of the Puddle. We demand to see concept art.
Ferb being casually “down” with questing. Also, during his speech later on, while brandishing Excaliferb, when he has to awkwardly recover from the blade falling off. Ferb can be pretty blunt sometimes.
Sir Perrible climbing up Monogram’s beard, and the feather popping clear out of his hat when he realized what was going on. We had to pause the episode so we could breathe.
Phineas and his bored/irritated expressions for many scenes. This was curious because it was never really explained. We assume it might be his attempt at being intense?
Malifishmirtz.
This episode gets the Honorary Georgia Pun Award for “Shepherd Spy.” She cried.
“Carl, did you eat my sandwich?”
Baljeet explaining logic to Buford. What an odd, zen moment, complete with a visual sweep of the swampy marsh. Very nice.
“this swampy marsh.”

The subtle jokes are the most deadly.
TEN THOUSAND MONSTERS. I mean GEE WHIZ.
Malifishmirtz’s non-reaction to Candavere the monster. We died. Sometimes the best reactions are nothing at all. The fact that his scepter just gave up and exploded. Great timing.
Also, his touch-screen magic mirror. So brilliant it hurts.
Malifishmirtz the Hydra. Thanks for the nightmare fuel, guys. Just…thanks.
The whole battle-song. Incredible…very 80s, and we love that the singer was more-or-less sportscasting. “No wait…he’s up agAAAAAAAAAAAAAIINN!!”
Poor Carl gets no love. We love you Carl. Your moment is coming, someday.

All-in-all a perfect episode, and yes, you will be seeing fan art. Lots.

Temple of Juachadoon

Was this show written for us?? I mean, really: Ohio Flynn? Rhode Island Fletcher??? How could the writers possibly know Mori is from Ohio and Georgia is from Rhode Island? Yet there it is, another dead-ringer coincidence that eats our hearts alive.

Anyway, the true tragedy of this is that we have not seen the Indiana Jones movies DON’THURTUS—but we are at least aware of the references! It’s actually interesting, having looked over the “Mummy” episode so recently to find many of the same visual callbacks. For instance, the large rolling ball…thing. Hmm.

This episode breaks a lot of rules that we were certainly eager to see break, mostly summed up when Phineas growled “Dooooofenshmirtz.” First of all, Phineas has a larger range of expressions and emotions, which is always delicious. And to see him interact with Doofenshmirtz in a seemingly ongoing good vs. bad dynamic was fascinating. But when you think about it, it shouldn’t be strange to see the main heroes confronting the main villain. Isn’t that the norm? Doof has always been, supposedly, the “villain” of the series, as his agenda is evil, but he is never confronted by the heroes, simply because 1) he is part of the B plot, and 2) Phineas and Ferb aren’t heroes. They’re just kids doin’ kid stuffs. Interesting.

Anyway, the mix-up is fun. Of course, if Phineas and Ferb are going head-to-head-to-head with Doof, this means there’s no logistical room for Perry, not in an 11-minute episode anyway. We feel this was…erm…interestingly solved, with Perry being out of the picture for most of the episode, then suddenly busting in with a show-stopping (from a writer’s perspective, literally plot-stopping) dance number and a fez. This breaks probably the biggest rule: Phineas and Ferb see sentient Perry in action. But oh, whatever — the entire number is totally worth it just for Doof’s flabbergasted face. And check out that fez!

We were quite surprised at Isabella in this episode, not really for being a “dirty double-crosser,” (go Phineas) (also I mean her mom was on the line, she couldn’t help it) but mostly for the sheer amount of cards she must keep in her…bra?? The more cards that she pulled out, the higher our eyebrows went. It might not even be considered risque, but worth a mention, because we’ve never really been forced to consider Isabella’s undergarments before. On the other hand, Candace wore nothing but a towel for a full episode, so again, Candace cancels that out.

Speaking of Candace, she’s just over there ROCKIN’ THAT REPORTER OUTFIT, NO BIG DEAL. It was such a brilliant and subtle move to make her a reporter, considering she could have been involved in a separate plot, and cluttered up the episode as a result. But it was perfect: she could actively be involved in the boys’ adventures (instead of sneaking around), and her normal motivation to report on everything is so seamlessly worked in, it was quite a brilliant choice. It’s the little things.

This episode also wins the second-place Georgia Pun Award for the Fez Dispenser, and also we give a nod to Phineas’s attempt at trying to make a “Get ready for some popcorn!” remark that doesn’t pay off until later, and after he gets flustered over it failing.

Tri-Stone Area

Georgia was in such a hype over this episode she seriously could not contain herself. Even before it aired she was singing its praises. When she finally saw it in full she couldn’t sit down for an hour, pacing back and forth in the kitchen and scribbling down maniacal notes that eventually grew up to be this blog post.

She just has a lot of feelings.

So let’s think for a minute about what’s going on with this brilliant episode.

“Tri-Stone Area” is an exercise in communication. Phineas and Ferb is not the first animated show to tell a story in gibberish, not by a long shot. In fact, many shows for small children, especially ones that air in many different countries, do well when there’s an absence of language. But we’re not talking small children in this case. Phineas’s demographic is 9-11 year-olds, but a great deal of their audience is made up of many ages, including teens, adults, and loser college kids. So we really have to put it in perspective, based on audience.

So, “Tri-Stone” emphasizes a specific idea to a very, very wide audience. This was the idea: you don’t need words to tell a story.

Communication is based on understanding. Different signs and symbols are used to convey different meanings. These symbols can be a multitude of things: sounds, images, gestures. Based on the repetition of these symbols and their subsequent effects, we can make logical assumptions about what is being expressed. Human minds want to connect these sorts of things. We are naturally perceptive to them.

For instance, every time we hear “Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated” sung, we understand these things: In the next shot, the setting will be related to Doofenshmirtz and his activities, and we will likely see Perry soon. Just based on an image of the front of the building, and a short song. How do we know this? It’s been drilled into our heads hundreds of times. But even if a completely new audience member watched only three episodes of Phineas and Ferb, by the third time they heard the jingle, they would very likely come to expect Doofenshmirtz to appear in some form.

One afternoon, while perusing through fan-fictions, we stumbled across one that changed a scene by simply writing, “Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated!!,” and from there on, launching right into dialogue. And this was somehow a smooth transition, because, based on what we understand, our brains read the words, triggered the memory of the tune, recognized that the scene had changed and the person talking was probably Doofenshmirtz.

These are not new concepts, just basic semiotics. We’re merely illustrating that our brains can connect a very minimal amount of information to a prediction of what will happen next in the story. To a Phineas and Ferb fan, a picture of a specific building and hearing a specific song translates to “And now we will know what Doofenshmirtz and Perry are doing.”

It’s really a powerful thing when you think about it. We’ve all become so familiar with the routine of any given episode: the repeated phrases, the music, the voices, the sequences…wouldn’t it be fascinating, knowing all that we know, if somebody actually took an episode, then put it in a different time period, and garbled all the words? Due to our brains being so fantastic, we would still understand what was going on.

Of course, that’s just with the advantage of having watched the show beforehand. But we’ll wager that if “Tri-Stone Area” was the first P+F episode someone had ever watched, they would probably be able to decipher what was going on based on the characters’ tones, staging and body language. No question. The talent behind this show is incredible, and we trust them. More importantly, though, they trust us to be able to understand what they’re getting at.

“Tri-Stone Area” is telling us, kids and adults alike, “Hey! We know you can figure this out. You’re all really smart, and we know you’re paying attention. And because you’re so perceptive, the story tells itself! Cool, right? Also, here, have some awesome music, and Dan and Swampy will dance.”

……..YES??!!

But hold everything, wait, just…WAIT A MINUTE. This is Disney Channel. You know, Disney Channel? Watch any other show on Disney and you’ll find all the jokes laid out for you. The comedy is confusing. The characters are exaggerated, always throwing themselves around. The plots are forgettable, overdone. Worst of all, there is a laugh-track. There is a fake audience, responding for you, to jokes that aren’t funny. These shows do not trust us enough to react to this poor comedy, so they respond to it in our place. How strange this storytelling is, with everything too obvious, and yet, the viewer is basically removed from the experience. Nothing entertaining is communicated.

And here is where “Tri-Stone Area” appears, a strange, unusual gem in an odd jungle of bad writing. It’s ironic that under the right circumstances, a single episode of a single show, spoken in gibberish, is more likely to generate more audience response than any other show spoken in perfect English on Disney Channel. OH SNAP.

And to be fair, the episode was not all gibberish. Dan and Swampy appeared occasionally to sort of clear up what might not be understood, and they were necessary. “Tri-Stone” is not a perfect episode from a really critical standpoint. In fact, there were several moments that were not clear. We got the gist of those few scenes, and perhaps if we went over it slowly we could come to understand them, but the show’s pacing has always been a bit crippled by its own “three-intertwining-plots” ambition. There’s a lot going on, and a lot going on really fast. But they recognize that it’s not perfect, even at one point saying:

“Wasn’t that clear?”
“No.”
“Huh, well it’s a good thing we’re doing THIS, then!”

So we’re willing to excuse the imperfections. Disney Channel viewers aren’t ready for something fully abstracted. We aren’t ready for something fully abstracted. But the fact that this episode was greenlit, produced and aired is a big step towards something new.

This “something new” is important. In its basic form, it’s this: there isn’t one way to tell a story.

Hah! We knew that, right? Stories take many forms: books, movies, comics…sometimes the same story is told with all three. But we’re not talking formats. We’re talking different universal languages. Narratives expressed in body language, visual language, sounds, music, ART. Things don’t have to be written to be explained. Jokes are often funnier with silence. Monsters are scarier if you can’t see them. Give us a hint as to what’s going on, and our brains will tell us the rest. Humans need language to understand their world. But if the languages aren’t solely based on words, our understanding of things as a culture could change drastically.

And this is large and philosophical and weird for a Phineas and Ferb episode. But it’s a spark. We need MORE shows like this that are willing to take these creative risks. What’s that? Design standards say that round-shaped characters are more appealing to children? Screw it: here’s a pointy kid. What? You speak English on your show? Forget that—WE MADE A NEW LANGUAGE, and we completely trust that our audience will follow it. The landscape of storytelling could very well change. And we’re definitely looking forward to it.

Because it’s too often we see movies with good potential get ruined by bad scripts. Take Shane Acker’s 9, for example. Although the visuals are stunning, it’s killed by horrible writing. Everything that’s going on is painfully obvious, and yet the characters explain it to us. What was it based on? A silent short that gotnominated for an Oscar. In another example, recently we just watched Super 8, and we were sucked in by how gorgeous it was. What ruined it for us was the characters blatantly describing exactly what was going on, and the clumsy morals being thrown everywhere. But that’s a different review.

Wanna know an excellent movie? Wall-E. What’s that? The first half has no words? Well, how did the audience understand what was going on? Because Pixar knows we are a lot smarter than most movies—and most SHOWS—tell us we are.

And yes.

That’s what Georgia was thinking as she watched Phinebunk exclaim, “Cantog maka FOOMFA!!”

In short, well done, Phineas and Ferb!! For giving us a creative team that takes risks and continues to make such fantastic, hilarious, brilliant episodes. We eagerly await the remains of season 3 and what we’re sure will be a glorious Season 4. Bravo!

And if you, yes you, reader with nothing better to do, reached the end of this post, we congratulate you. Because we now have to live with the shame of having this many feelings about a children’s show.