Saturday, 17 August 2019

The Last Temptation of Homer (aka Mindy Can Read Minds?)


Warning: Contains spoilers for The Last Temptation of Christ (1988).

On the DVD commentary for "Colonel Homer" there is a lot of talk among the series staff about how fundamentally wrong it would be for Homer to even think about embarking on an extramarital affair when securing Marge's spousal devotions was undoubtedly the most fortuitous thing that ever happened to him. As things are, Homer is not astoundingly attentive or sensitive to Marge's needs, but the one line he's emphatically not allowed to cross is being unfaithful to her. They argue that they got around the problem in "Colonel Homer" because, there, Homer doesn't actually comprehend that Lurleen is in love with him, or why his sudden enthusiasm for the aspiring country musician would look awfully suspicious from Marge's end (I think the situation gets slightly stickier than they let on, particularly in the final few minutes, but I'd agree that Homer doesn't consciously enter into his business partnership with Lurleen with romance on his mind). But then they admit that it's all a moot point any way, because a couple of seasons down the line we had an episode where Homer does indeed knowingly contemplate an affair with another woman. For then there was Mindy Simmons (voice of Michelle Pfeiffer), the foul temptress who (in all probability) shared Homer's sentiment that Ziggy had gotten too preachy.

"The Last Temptation of Homer" (1F07) is a very different kind of marital crisis episode, one that's less interested in exploring the emotional and dramatic implications of Homer and Marge's marriage coming apart at the seams than it is in placing Homer in a torturous situation and extracting as much humour as possible out of watching him squirm. Here, Homer's attraction to Mindy isn't precipitated by any kind of domestic fall-out between himself and Marge; Mindy simply wanders into Homer's life one day and Homer can't get her out of his head. In a way, the lack of evident discord in his relationship with Marge makes Homer's dilemma here all the more agonising, because he's got no real justification for gravitating toward another woman, other than that life just happened to hit him with a massive "What if?" Homer assumes that his life with Marge is perfectly balanced, but what if Mindy was really the woman of his dreams, and they'd just never happened to cross paths until now? Homer has no reason to complain about Marge, but he's given every reason to believe that he could have been just as happily married to Mindy in an alternate universe, and it's a thought that inevitably throws his entire worldview into turmoil. "The Last Temptation of Homer" also dispenses with the plot thread, integral to both "Life on The Fast Lane" and "Colonel Homer", in which the partner at risk of being abandoned has to grapple with their growing suspicions. Marge remains blissfully ignorant throughout this entire ordeal, and never once cottons on that she has competition. The only other member of the household who, very faintly, finds out about the new woman in Homer's life is Lisa, whose suspicions are aroused when she catches her father singing a corrupted version of Barry Manilow's "Mandy", although she does not pursue the matter further. Mindy, for her part, is also a lot less forward than Jacques or Lurleen. Although she clearly reciprocates Homer's feelings, she's able to hold off actively flirting with him for most of the episode. And yet she is by far the most dangerous of all the Home-Wreckers, because her very existence undermines the validity of Homer's own. All of the Home-Wreckers sans Kashmir (who is forever the anomaly) present a threat to the status quo because they each show the apple of their proverbial eye that they could have things very differently, if they so chose, but none cuts quite so brutally to that apple's existential core as Mindy does to Homer.

I've spoken in the past about how the Simpsons universe is cruel and capricious, and if there's an episode that definitively demonstrates that, it's "The Last Temptation of Homer". It's especially disconcerting when you compare it to the resolution of "Life on The Fast Lane". There, the universe pretty much intervened to prevent Marge from going to Jacques' apartment, hence the appearance of the whole ironic street. This makes sense if we consider that the entire fabric of the Simpsons universe is intrinsically stitched up in Homer and Marge's union; if their marriage breaks down, the status quo of the series will likewise be obliterated, and there is no The Simpsons. So the universe was really only acting to protect itself (even if it came at the expense of Marge's chance to find renewed direction in life). In "The Last Temptation of Homer", however, the universe seems to be pushing in precisely the opposite direction, pulling out whatever stops it can to ensure that we get to the point where Homer and Mindy end up in the same bedroom, with Homer's resistance whittled down to its last dying embers. The Simpsons universe needs little excuse to give its denizens a good taunting, but on this occasion its behaviour is particularly troubling as it looks to be engineering an outcome that would guarantee its own destruction. This is an episode in which the universe, bizarrely, wants to die.

The events of the episode get into motion when Homer's colleague Charlie vanishes under mysterious circumstances and the plant is forced to hire a new dangerous emissions supervisor. Mindy is hired as a concession to the United States Department of Labor, who demand that Burns reverse his sexist employment policies and take on at least one female employee. Lenny and Carl are subsequently heard complaining about the prospect of having a female co-worker around, because it obligates them not to behave like slobs on the job. This, honestly, is the one aspect of "The Last Temptation of Homer" that seriously gets stuck in my craw, because we've seen numerous examples of women working at the plant before (just off the top of my head, there's Ms Finch from "Principal Charming", the apocalypse fetishist from "Homer Defined" and, hell, even Marge herself was employed there only last season). One gets hung up on the consistency of the Simpsons timeline at entirely one's peril, but in this case it's a little too egregious for me to ignore. Basically, they made this continuity-screwing assertion just for the purposes of setting up a punchline involving a highly unpleasant duck. I'll let you decide if the trade-off was worth it.

I have two incidental observations about Mindy, one benign, the other slightly more troubling. Firstly, she has the same surname as Abe's deceased girlfriend, Beatrice Simmons from "Old Money", so could they possibly be related? Secondly, Mindy is a junk food addict who is constantly guzzling, and yet she has an amazingly trim figure for someone who packs their face with double glaze donuts all day. I do understand what they're going for with this; Mindy was purposely conceived to be the impossibly perfect bait for Homer, combining the body of a pin-up with all of Homer's defining carnal traits. Not only is she physically desirable, closer inspection reveals that she's every bit as much as a gluttonous slob as he. We've met Homer's female double, and that she happens to be the most paradoxically comely-looking being ever to set foot in Springfield is pretty much the joke in itself. But still, we've got this character who is binge eater and yet also incongruously skinny, and does that not leave itself wide open to a somewhat more...uncomfortable interpretation? I hesitate to push too far with this point, as I know that it's going to be a sensitive subject for many and I have no desire to come off as flippant, but one day it crossed my mind that Mindy might be bulimic, and I haven't been able to see her in the same way since. Nowadays, when she tells Homer that she's leaving to sneak in a quick nap before lunch, I have this uneasy sensation that she's actually headed off to the power plant restroom to do something else entirely.

Mindy's possible eating disorder aside, she and Homer are clearly two hearts believing in just one mind, and this goes some way toward addressing one of the most daunting challenges in the episode's narrative logic - that is, making it seem entirely par for the course that Mindy, this impossibly bewitching Springfieldian, would fall so head over heels in love with Homer. I noted previously that the production staff for "Colonel Homer", as per their words in the episode's DVD commentary, consider it something of a stretch that an attractive woman like Lurleen would set her sights on Homer, but I think it makes sense given that Lurleen clearly has a history of being mistreated by men and Homer's warmth and sincerity make him seem like a breath of fresh air. With Mindy it's a lot more straightforward - she falls for Homer because kismet has willed for them to be together. The two of them were visibly made for one another, and neither party has recourse to ignore that. There is a gut level on which the viewer too can appreciate the sheer correctness of their magnetism. Mindy is an immensely likeable character - I don't see how anyone can possibly not love her - and the emotions she brings out in Homer, however messy, are undeniably adorable, particularly early on when she has him murmuring fondly like a smitten little schoolboy ("Mindy has a motorcycle"). But it's also devastating, because not only does it threaten Homer's fidelity to Marge, it undermines the very basis of his existence and everything he has, up until now, taken for granted as the natural order of the universe in which he lives. If Homer was meant to be with Mindy, then his marriage to Marge, the life they have built together and indeed the entire foundation of The Simpsons as a series, is suddenly exposed as a total sham. At one point, Homer proclaims this to be the worst crisis his marriage has ever faced. Worse than Lurleen, worse than Jacques, worse than General Sherman the catfish, apparently. His relationship with Marge has overcome numerous challenges in the past, against all odds, but what sets this particular crisis apart from its predecessors is that it is, effectively, all Homer's cross to bear. In "Life on The Fast Lane", Marge's almost-affair with Jacques was an open secret; everybody knew what was happening, including Homer. With "Colonel Homer", it was a case of everybody knowing except Homer. But in "The Last Temptation of Homer" nobody knows, except Homer. It's a quandary which has Homer at his most thoroughly introspective, questioning not merely the future of his marriage, but also the universe as a whole and his fundamental place within it.

The nature of Homer's crisis is hinted at in the episode title, derived from Martin Scorsese's highly controversial film, The Last Temptation of Christ (1988), which is based on the 1955 novel by Greek author Nikos Kazantzakis (and I appreciate that this may also be a sensitive matter for some readers, but I'm only going off what's in the movie). Here, the dying Jesus (Willem Dafoe) is greeted on the cross by an angel (Juliette Caton), who offers him the opportunity to escape his fate and live the life of an ordinary man. Jesus accepts, and lives a peaceful, nondescript life for many decades (as part of his normal life, he loses his virginity to Mary Magdalene (Barbara Hershey) which is the element that many church leaders got their panties in a twist about at the time), but as he reaches old age tensions between the Romans and the Jews reach breaking point and result in the destruction of Israel. As Jerusalem goes up in flames, Jesus is reunited with one of his old friends, Judas Iscariot (Harvey Keitel), who tells him that by not going through with the crucifixion, he failed to bring about salvation, and is now fated to die like every other man. Jesus crawls through the burning ruins of Jerusalem, imploring God to allow him the opportunity to finish what he started, whereupon he finds himself back on the cross, a young man once again, having overcome the titular last temptation - that is, the temptation to simply be human. He cries out, "It is accomplished!", with his final breath, and the movie ends with an abstract visual sequence.

Mindy, so the episode title tells us, is Homer's "last" temptation, and their mutual attraction creates a bizarre paradox; their union is essential if the universe is to correct itself and follow its intended course, but since its very nexus lies rooted within the fundamental error that is Homer and Marge's marriage, the universe would have to destroy itself in the process. And the universe, certainly, does appear to be unraveling all around us. As noted, the episode is entirely devoid of any genuine domestic drama, but when Homer returns home from work, hoping to reaffirm his commitment to his familiar way of living, he finds that life as knew it isn't there any more. His world has become just marginally out of whack, although it's out of whack in completely mundane, everyday kinds of ways - Marge has a cold and cannot be so available to him, Bart is undergoing an array of medical procedures which threaten to engulf his own sense of personal identity (more on that shortly), Lisa has prepared him fish sticks which are burned on the outside and frozen on the inside (I'm sure there's a perfect metaphor in that, but I haven't yet figured out what it is) and Maggie...well, she remains out of sight for the entirety of the episode. What's important is that Homer's family have become ever-so-slightly grotesque to him, now that she sees them for the metaphysical blips that they are. Meeting Mindy has changed Homer, and he can't return to the home he once knew. Homer is confused, so he turns to a higher power - the chattering cyclops - for guidance. Kent Brockman, David Attenborough and the National Ringworm Association all send him a very clear message: "JUST DO IT!" His crisis deepening, Homer resorts to calling an emotional support hotline, but gets through to none other than Ned Flanders, who suddenly transforms into the neighbour from Hell in wanting to spill the beans to Marge. Feeling betrayed and forsaken by all external sources of help, Homer is forced to look within and go on a soul-searching journey in order to find a way through his predicament - which, in a slightly surreal nod to Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, manifests in a visit from Homer's guardian angel, who assumes the form of Colonel Klink (a fictional character from 1960s sitcom Hogan's Heroes) and purports to show Homer how miserable life would be if he'd married Mindy instead of Marge. As it turns out, Homer and Mindy would be fabulously well-off, and talk non-stop about how happy they are, and Marge would be President of the United States. Angel-Klink realises that he's not making out his point, so he abruptly terminates the vision and leaves Homer stranded in his dilly of a pickle. There's a popular theory that Karl from "Simpson and Delilah" is really Homer's guardian angel; apparently not, although if Karl did want the job then I'm sure he'd be a lot better at it than this joker.

At the centre of Homer's crisis is the revelation that, if the universe, as it exists, is founded upon a succession of falsehoods, then he too is not the individual he has long assumed himself to be. His encounter with Angel-Klink reveals to him that if the universe had followed its intended path, then he could have been someone else entirely - successful, sophisticated and perpetually contented. Instead, he somehow wound up in the role of a blue collar every-loser grappling through yet another wacky adventure week after week. This is not the universe as it was intended to be. And yet it is the universe that we have. If it were to disappear, perhaps something better would rise in its place, but all Homer has is the here and now. And the dilemma he faces, here and now, is whether, knowing that things could have turned out very differently, he is to accept kismet, step down from his ernoeous role and put this misbegotten universe out of its misery once and for all, or to embrace this beautiful metaphysical glitch of an existence, and all of its messy imperfections, as the life that he really wants, thus affirming it as the "authentic" universe after all. "Colonel Homer" had, to an extent, touched upon Homer's frustrations at always having to be the screw-up, and to that end "Temptation" offers him an enticing escape clause. The universe may end, but Homer is relieved of his position at the centre of it, no longer obligated to keep performing the same unenviable role over and over. The "last temptation" of Homer, in other words, is to be released from the burden of being Homer Simpson.

Homer's personal crisis throughout "The Last Temptation of Homer" is echoed in a parallel narrative involving Bart, who learns that he has a host of visual and posture impairments and is forced to undergo a barrage of uncomfortable correctional procedures, including wearing oversized glasses and oversized shoes, all of which threaten to erase his identity as school hall rebel and recast him, much to his dismay, as a socially awkward nerd. As Simpsons B stories go, this one isn't terribly substantial; it stands out as easily the most disposable subplot in all of Season 5 (which was surprisingly light on B material, compared to Seasons 3 and 4), which might have to do with it being the most tenuously linked to the A story, at least on the surface. The two stories directly intersect at exactly one point in the episode - during the aforementioned scene where Homer returns to his family home and finds his son somewhat unrecognisable, with his protrusive glasses and medicated salve dripping from his scalp. It's an odd amount of effort to put into a narrative arc that serves chiefly to set up one of several mild disturbances to Homer's domestic routine, one that the writers themselves apparently lose interest in, because once it's served its purpose for Homer's story, it trails on for a short while and effectively just stops. Bart has to wear this humiliating body gear for a time and then he doesn't; this is about as aimlessly barebones as a subplot can get. But I think the real substance of this B story lies in the sequence where Bart pulls out his skateboard from his locker and proclaims that "I'm still the same person I've always been", a point he drastically fails to prove when his oversized shoes throw off his balance and render his skateboarding skills inoperative. Bart's social status as underachiever and proud means everything to him, but worse than being rebranded by his peers is the increasing sense of self-doubt that slowly takes a hold of him, perfectly encapsulated in a scene where he sees his own reflection in Milhouse's lens and exclaims, in horror, "I'm a nerd!" Bart discovers that a few seemingly minor changes to his circumstances can completely alter the person he assumes himself to be - that the nature of identity is fragile, and hangs in the balance of a chaotic and ill-conceived cosmos.

Bart is relieved of his personal crisis the easy way - his allotted time as a nerd reaches its natural conclusion (once the episode has racked up enough filler material) and he's allowed to resume his old identity (although he gets beaten up by the school bullies anyway, because that is an integral part of who they are). For Homer, however, there is no such reprieve, and the universe persists in its relentless course to bring himself and Mindy together. The situation escalates when when he is sent away with Mindy on a business trip to an energy convention, and the two of them end up sharing adjacent hotel rooms. The universe is now quite ready to do away with itself, yet even it seems to have second thoughts about its impending demise; there is an anomalous moment where Homer and Mindy, while consuming an assortment of ill-gotten room service entrees, eat a chili dog from respective ends and wind up kissing in the middle, whereupon Homer's bloated belly suddenly interjects, tearing through his shirt to reveal an under-garment bearing Marge's distorted face (Marge having leapt at the chance to get her face on a t-shirt earlier in the episode - only, as is befitting for this universe, it came out slightly mangled). Homer thinks he hears Marge's disapproving murmurs and flees, but it is only the sounds of a carpet cleaner being wielded by the bellhop outside. That evening, however, the universe hits back with newly-determined resolve to finish this once and for all, when Homer and Mindy are crowned King and Queen of the energy convention and awarded a romantic dinner at the sexiest Chinese restaurant in town. At this point, Homer turns to the announcer and asks to be relieved of his dilemma, but the announcer refuses, outraged that Homer would even have the gall to ask. The universe is in a precarious position, and the fate of everything within remains unresolved; all that is left is for Homer to finally stare his existential crisis straight in the face and decide once and for all whether to validate this wretched macrocosm or to finally enable it to end.

Although "The Last Temptation of Homer" is overall a much more gag-driven and less drama-orientated installment than its predecessors, it still manages to bow out on a surprisingly sincere and poignant final note, where Homer invites Mindy into his hotel room and breaks down in front of her, believing that all of his efforts to stave off temptation have been for nought and that he now has no choice but to surrender to the will of the cosmos. Mindy reminds Homer that he still has free will in all of this; he might think that it is written in the stars because he read it off of a fortune cookie, but as she so eloquently puts it, desserts aren't always right. Homer admits that he isn't actually sure what he wills from this, acknowledging that he wants Mindy desperately but also feels a strong attachment to his family, imperfect though his life may be, and as much as he is occasionally compelled to throttle his son. Mindy advises him to look within his heart, assuring him that he will find clarity as to what he truly wants. And then they kiss, in one of the boldest yet also most legitimately touching moments in the entire series. But it's a sadly mournful kiss, a clear indication that their relationship has just concluded. Tonally, it plays like an exact inversion of the kiss Karl triumphantly planted on Homer in "Simpson and Delilah", although it serves much the same purpose; it's a regretful acknowledgement of what could have been, or maybe even should have been, but was sadly rendered inoperative in this particular lifetime. For when Homer delves deep into his heart to see what he really wants, he looks up to see Marge standing right before him.

It is accomplished!


Except someone once told me that there is a popular fan theory that Homer actually did sleep with Mindy and just imagined that he was with Marge the whole time on account of a guilty conscience. Look, I don't mean to step on any of you Homer/Mindy shippers' toes, but I hope you realise that if it's really that easy then I am allowed to claim, with every bit as much validity, that Marge went to the Fiesta Terrace and slept with Jacques, and that her appropriation of the closing sequence from An Officer and a Gentleman was all but a fantasy designed to alleviate her guilt at having cheated on her husband. In fact, maybe I will start doing that from now on; it makes me feel a lot happier.

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