Scullyfied Simpsons: “I’m Goin’ to Praiseland” (Season 12, Episode 19)

“It is with uh, great pride that I dedicate this new school, sports arena, or attraction.” – Mayor Quimby, displaying the same enthusiasm that I do every time I turn on episodes past the golden era at this point.

Airdate: May 6th, 2001.

Written By: Julie Thacker

Plot: It’s been some time since Maude Flanders has died. Naturally, Ned Flanders is still trying to come to terms with the tragedy. His inability to process the shock of this demise alienates Rachel Jordan, driving him to try and get his life in order. While trying to clean up his house, he comes across Maude’s old sketchbook, containing designs of a Christian theme park. An initial weakness in retaining patrons is countered by an apparent miracle in front of Maude’s statue.

Review:

Today on Scullyfied Simpsons, we get to follow up on a major plot shift in the Simpsons canon – the death of Maude Flanders!

Why, yes, that is a groan that you heard out here on Long Island.

I’ve made it no secret that the death of Maude Flanders is, to my eyes, one of the most horribly botched shifts to canon in the history of contemporary American fiction. I despise “Alone Again, Natura-Diddily”, not just for the cynical nature of said episode as a cheap viewer grab, but doing so in a way that tossed aside any logic whatsoever, made the protagonist permanently unlikable while still treating him like a naive fool, and felt like a spit in the face to the departed voice actress.

It is the show’s point of no return in my eyes, the moment that cemented the show’s transition into the Zombie era. And every time this particular twist has been brought up, it was in the most nauseating way possible, from Homer giving a low score on Ned’s sex life all the way to a severely ill Todd calling out for his mother. It makes me wonder if these writers are trying to plunge new depths to remain relevant.

But I have to wonder… can anything be salvaged from this slip-up in the show’s plot? Is there any hope of recovery? Or at the very least, can we get a half-decent episode revolving around this thread?

Well, here’s an example. Does it work?

No.

But why not?

This episode does do one decent thing that puts it a step above the aforementioned “Alone Again, Natura-Diddily” (not that said endeavor is a particularly hard feat), and that is acknowledging the impact of said plot’s events on characterization. In the aforementioned episode, it felt like the writers killed Maude Flanders and left very little time for Ned to grieve. Seriously, they skipped over some weeks and had Homer straight on matchmaking the guy whose wife he pretty much killed. It felt like a trivialization of one of the most tragic events that could befall a man. The writers also tried to throw in a “crisis of faith” element, but handled it so haphazardly that, even if the episode were redeemable, it killed any shot of that right there.

Here, we get to see the end of that episode “revived” with the reintroduction of one Racheal Jordan, the Christian Pop singer who sort of stabilized Ned at the end of her debut episode. The end of the episode appeared to set her up as a possible love interest for our devoutly religious friend. However, “I’m Going to Praiseland” reveals a much more realistic turn of events – Ned is still distraught over the sudden and traumatic passing of his wife. This is understandable – it hasn’t even been a year since the tragic event (thank you, stagnant character ages), and grief is a harsh mistress.

In fact, so stunned was the event to Ned, it’s driven him a bit insane.

I don’t have a problem with this in theory. In execution, meanwhile? Yet again, they go too far and create a caricature where a character is meant to be located. Ned Flanders has pictures of Maude literally everywhere (somehwat understandable), keeps Maude’s imprint in their bed, gives Rachel Maude’s personalized robe before she goes to sleep, and capping it all off, tries to cut Rachel’s hair into Maude’s style while she’s sleeping. In short, he’s gone from deep mourning to a grief-based psychosis.

Why doesn’t it work here?

Because it doesn’t. I should have sympathy for this character, as he’s repressed the loss of his wife and it has manifested in seemingly bizarre behavior. But the story, yet again, doesn’t handle it appropriately.

I think an example is necessary to illustrate what I mean with an example of a TV show illustrating a grief-fueled mental breakdown correctly.

Yeah, I’m going back there.

For the uninitiated, Steven Universe – one of my favorite shows of recent years – made the concept of grief and mourning the dead a central theme of the show, particularly in the show’s first half. And no character best epitomized the trauma of the left behind than Pearl – to my eyes, the deuteragonist of Steven Universe, or at least, one of them. Earlier in her life, she was the partner and apparent close confidante of one Rose Quartz, the icon of the Crystal Gems. Tragically, the relationship ebbed away in the later years, and Pearl could only watch as Greg Universe loved her out of existence. No joke – she got pregnant, and the nature of Gem biology meant that she all but died. She left behind one child, the titular character of the series.

The show hints at a deeper relationship between the duo in the earlier episodes, and finally all but lays it down on the line in “Rose’s Scabbard”. In said episode, Pearl discovers that Rose had secrets that not even Pearl knew. Indeed, it was Steven that found the obscured aspects of his life on his own before Pearl did. The discovery of the titular scabbard served as the catalyst for the reveal that Rose was a more secretive character than she let on, and serves as the first major question to be thrown at her legacy. It does not bode well for Pearl’s psyche, the facade of which crumbles to reveal a psychologically wounded character. She built up a “special status” to maintain the illusion of an idyllic relationship (when said partnership was more complex than it appeared at first glance), and for a moment resents Steven for shattering that illusion… as well as existing. “Sometimes, you even sound like her.”

It’s one of my favorite episodes of television. No joke. It was the episode that cemented my love of the show, and five years on, I still admire every second of it. And they build on the insanity with “Sworn to the Sword”, an episode that demonstrates Pearl’s delusions about the relationship and how it impacts other people. It’s quite clear that she didn’t find closure when Rose died. And some form of resolution (not closure, but a focus on her own personal life beyond the partnership) is what she does approach in later episodes – namely, “Mr. Greg”, “Last One Out of Beach City”, and “A Single Pale Rose”. What made it work was how realistic it was – for a show that dealt with alien rock people, it presented a very human and quite realistic view of loss and bereavement, and the psychological trauma that said states can inflict on one, particularly if their relationship was more complex than at first glance. The point is, Steven Universe knew how to take on a deeply relatable and moving topic with a major level of emotional resonance because it knew how to root these issues in the established characterization, or at least use it to set up character development.

The Simpsons, meanwhile, chooses to go for comic exaggeration. The depths of his obsession only seems to last through the end of Act 1, but the rest of the episode all but forgets said bouts of insanity. It’s a plot device, that’s what it is. It’s certainly less offensive than “Alone Again”, because it doesn’t feel like quite the slap in the face to both character and audience in the way that episode did, but it still misses the target. I doubt anybody would be truly satisfied with how Ned Flanders is portrayed here.

But I do see where the writers are coming from. Ned feels like he wants to keep Maude’s legacy alive in some form. It’s something that many of the bereaved, regardless of their religious views, try and reckon with.

After realizing that he might need to get some help with his refusal to let go, he tries to go the complete opposite direction – let The Simpsons decide, which is code for “clean out the place and shred every bloody thing in his master bedroom.” Is this a particularly healthy take? Again, this is a case-by-case basis. But many would argue that to repress the loved one’s existence can be just as damaging as going deep into obsessive amounts of mourning the way Ned Flanders did. So I do have some appreciation for why one extreme gave way to the other. I do wish that it wasn’t yet another example of unnecessary involvement of The Simpson clan in Ned’s life, particularly since the “ambulance zone” aftertaste is pretty much built into this episode’s plot. (Thankfully, it doesn’t bring that aspect up once – I say “thankfully” because I’m pretty sure they would’ve screwed it up at this point.)

Anyway, one of the few items to survive the purge (if not the only item) is Maude’s scrapbook, a part of which details a Christian-themed amusement park. And that does get me thinking about the path that Ned’s character took from the Scully era onward. While the Flandereses are known for being devoutly religious, it seemed like Maude’s devotion to her worship was more of a centerpiece of her life. Contrast this to Ned, who while still quite religious, was more of a generalized “good neighbor”. Maybe his increasingly stereotypical “religious” nature is meant to be an attempt from the writers to demonstrate how he’s carrying on her legacy. Or, more cynically, that he’s coped with her death (and the rather callous attitude towards said tragedy within the universe) with deeper ties to his religion, and a more hardline take therein.

Keep in mind that while I don’t personally partake in religious activities, ultimately, the fraternity that is religion can be a source of comfort in times of grave crisis for so many people. And I guess it would be understandable that Ned Flanders would engross himself in the church. I just don’t like how the show used it as an excuse to turn him into a one-dimensional satire of the Christian Right used as a vehicle against the Bush administration and its ties to American evangelicalism. (Mind you, I’m a self-described agnostic who sits closer to the liberal side of the political spectrum saying this.) The idea is not bad, but the execution ultimately decayed yet another one of The Simpsons motley cast of characters.

But I digress. Ned decides that the best way to keep Maude alive is to make her ideas a posthumous reality. Yup, he goes and builds a new theme park. And before you ask where he gets the money to build this, I’m going with “NASCAR paid him off to avoid a possible lawsuit given that a T-shirt cannon was able to knock Maude off the bleachers” – that’s my headcanon. Also, the owner of the land (formerly Storybook Village) sold it dirt cheap, particularly given the nature of the project.

So how does it go? Not swimmingly. The main issue of the park is simple – it’s more boring than a Toyota Camry. (I should know, I drive one, I love it.) The whole concept of the park is to evangelize for Christianity, but beyond that, there is nothing of substance. Even the rides are just long lessons regarding the Bible without any chance of lasting excitement. There’s nothing to back up the social commentary, nothing to entice anybody outside of that tiny niche that Ned Flanders occupies.

There has to be something, anything, to keep patrons inside the park. A “killer app”, if you will. So often, a piece of work could be the one thing that entices the viewer or patron to go to or invest in said system or place. Dire Straits Brothers in Arms album shot the CD to the stratosphere. MTV fuelled Cable TV here in America, while Premier League Soccer did much the same in the UK (for Sky Satellite, at least). Orange is the New Black and House of Cards turned streaming media into the successor apparent to Cable TV. Halo secured the success of XBOX. And Central Florida bloomed once Disney World came into the picture, thus likely starting a series of events that culminated in “Florida Man”.

In this case, we get hallucinations of Heaven straight in front of Maude’s statue. All discovered because a face mask floated in front of said statue’s face. A religious theme park has its own miracle. Right? Well, in this case, it’s a gas leak that’s causing mass hallucinations. Why nobody smells the gas, even in an open environment, I don’t know – although, let’s be real here, nobody in the town of Springfield has common sense when it comes to OSHA. But even then, that stretches believability quite a bit. I guess you could argue that it demonstrates how people envision heaven in near-death situations (given that the townsfolk are inhaling toxic gas, their brains are likely getting scrambled) and that the religious nature of the surroundings are impacting the subconscious as they take in the fumes. Still, believability stretched.

Also stretching believability is the dialogue. This episode is laden with exposition, probably some of the most over-expository and unnecessary dialogue of any episode of The Simpsons that I’ve reviewed. Quite a few lines explain what the hell we’ve been seeing or the joke prior (the “Craizeland” gag at the end being a prime example), and even the dialogue that doesn’t partake doesn’t have the sharpness that the series once possessed.

That’s not to say there aren’t good jokes. I did love Disco Stu’s vision of heaven (“For me, this is hell”, remarks Frank Sinatra), and Comic Book Guy’s version of paradise as the bridge of the Enterprise is actually fascinating, particularly given the irony of Star Trek‘s somewhat mixed opinions on religion. I did like just how boring the dessert choices at Praiseland are, and the absurd dullness of the King David ride was also worth a chuckle.

Also, I did appreciate the idea of the ending. In trying to save the local park from blowing up, Ned and Homer have to stop orphans from having a lit flame near the leak. Since the townsfolk were unaware (given that Ned and Homer didn’t tell the town about the gas leak for their own reasons), they turn on the duo, ruining Praiseland for good. Two kids were saved, and all it cost was Ned’s reputation. Simultaneously heartwarming and cynical at the same time. And I guess you could read some form of religious interpretation into this plot twist. Certainly, it does help provide some way to carry on Maude’s legacy through good works, which I guess gives Ned some form of psychological resolution. It’s not a horrible ending, but the whole “Rachel Jordan going on a date with Ned” seems a bit forced… particularly since she never shows up again.

Which, honestly, I don’t mind. Just because someone has learned to find some form of emotional stability after the death of their partner does not mean they’re going out on the dating scene ever again. I’m just more disquieted that they teased possible character development while turning our neighborino into a one-dimensional caricature. Ned does ultimately date some other women in the Jean era, and is even married briefly to Edna Krabappel… but, whatever, that’s past my cutoff.

Really, this episode has too many weak spots to make a coherent outing. It’s certainly better than “Alone Again, Natura-Diddily”, but then again, that was more inevitable than Liverpool’s Premier League title was this year. Just because you clear the low bar does not mean you’ve won gold.

“I’m Goin’ to Praiseland” is… meh. On the low end of “meh”, mind you. There are some good ideas here, but the execution is so lackluster that I have no desire to watch it ever again. It does salvage some elements from “Alone Again”, but only just.

Tidbits:

• Bart briefly notes that Storybook Village was shut after a kid “got his head cut off”. It’s almost certainly a reference to the absurdly low height limits found in Storytime Village back in “Lisa the Vegetarian”. That being said, I can’t help but wince a little given that, back in 2016, the Verruckt water slide at Schlitterbahn Water Park in Kansas – then the largest water slide in the world – was shut down after the child of a state politician got decapitated on the aforementioned slide. Turns out, they were more focused on breaking records rather than ensuring guest safety. The park didn’t operate in 2019, their website is down, and the COVID shutdowns likely poured dirt on Schlitterbahn’s grave.
• I do appreciate the irony of Storytime Village being the location for Praiseland. For the uninitiated, Storytime Village was introduced “Lisa the Vegetarian”. A trip to the petting zoo and an encounter with a lamb affected Lisa so much that she turned vegetarian that night. It was one of the earlier “big changes” to hit our protagonists, arguably setting the tone for Seasons 11 and 12 of The Simpsons. Incidentally, the impact on canon was enforced by Paul and Linda McCartney, who agreed to guest star on the episode on the grounds that Lisa would remain a vegetarian for the rest of the series. Subtle meta-commentary, or just a coincidence?
• This episode was ultimately the last Simpsons episode credited to Julie Thacker, Mike Scully’s wife as well as a comedy writer in her own right. She leaves the show with three episodes credited to her name – to my eyes, two of them are resounding blah moments, while a third is a more positive “meh”. She and Mr. Scully would go on to create The Pitts, a show on FOX that didn’t even last a full season. Mr. and Mrs. Scully now work with Amy Poehler on Duncanville, an animated series on FOX Sunday Night. I haven’t watched it, not because of the showrunner (Scully does know how to write great television if his early Simpsons output is any indication) but more because I’ve watched decreasing amounts of linear TV with almost nothing on the broadcast networks. Seriously, as far as linear TV is concerned, I mostly watch sports and cartoons. There’s just little that entices me on the “networks” anymore. Maybe I’m missing something, maybe not. Who knows.

Wrap-Up:

Zaniness Factor: 2.5. Where did Ned get the money to build a fully-functioning (if poorly executed) theme park? Does the gas not produce an odor? These are legitimate questions.

Jerkass Homer Meter: 3. For the love of Gunnersaurus, I know the show is called The Simpsons, but there have been episodes with side characters that don’t involve Homer interfering in their life. And besides, he’s stalkerish here. It’s not quite “dodging responsibility for the death of a human being”, but it’s still annoying.

Favorite Scene: I honestly don’t know at this point. This episode seemed to melt together, with even decent scenes fusing together with lackluster elements. Sort of by default, Disco Stu’s vision of heaven for getting the closest thing to a belly laugh.

Least Favorite Scene: Yeah… all but ignoring Ned’s descent into insanity regarding Maude’s death? Not a good idea.

Score: 4.