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History of The Simpsons

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The Simpsons was created by Matt Groening, who conceived of the idea for the Simpsons in the lobby
of James L. Brooks's office. He named the characters after his own family members, substituting "Bart"
for his own name.The family debuted as shorts on The Tracey Ullman Show on April 19, 1987. In 1989,
the shorts were spun off into the series The Simpsons which debuted on December 17, 1989. Since then,
the series has aired over 500 episodes, 27 seasons and a film was released in 2007. 

Contents
[show]
The Tracey Ullman Shorts
Groening conceived of the idea for the Simpsons in the lobby of James L. Brooks's office. Brooks had
asked Groening to pitch an idea for a series of animated shorts, which Groening initially intended to
present as his Life in Hell series. However, when Groening realized that animating Life in Hell would
require the rescinding of publication rights for his life's work, he chose another approach and formulated
his version of a dysfunctional family.[1] He named the characters after his own family members,
substituting "Bart" for his own name.[2]
The Simpson family first appeared as shorts in The Tracey Ullman Show on April 19, 1987.[3] Groening
submitted only basic sketches to the animators and assumed that the figures would be cleaned-up in
production. However, the animators merely retraced his drawings, which led to the crude appearance of
the characters in the initial short episodes.[2] The animation was produced domestically at Klasky-
Csupo, Inc.,[4] with Wesley Archer, David Silverman, and Bill Kopp being animators for the first
season.[5] After season one it was animated by Archer and Silverman.[5] Georgie Peluse was the colorist
and the person who chose to make the characters yellow.[5]
The actors who voiced the characters would later reprise their roles in The Simpsons. Dan
Castellanetaperformed the voices of Homer Simpson, Abraham Simpson, and Krusty the Clown.
[6] Homer's voice sounds different in the shorts compared to most episodes of the half-hour show. In the
shorts, his voice is a loose impression of Walter Matthau, whereas it is more robust and humorous on the
half-hour show, allowing Homer to cover a fuller range of emotions.[7] Julie Kavner, Nancy Cartwright,
and Yeardley Smith performed the voices of Marge Simpson, Bart Simpson, and Lisa
Simpson respectively.[6] While most of the characters' personalities are similar to what they are in the
series, Lisa is portrayed as a female version of Bart without the intelligent nature that she possesses in
the half-hour series.
The shorts were featured on the first three seasons on The Tracey Ullman Show. By the fourth and last
season of The Tracey Ullman Show the first season of the half-hour show was on the air. In the two first
seasons the shorts were divided into three or four parts,[8] but in the third season they were played as a
single story.[8] Tracey Ullmanwould later file a lawsuit, claiming that her show was the source of The
Simpsons success and therefore should receive a share of the show's profit. Eventually the courts ruled in
favor of the network.[9]
The half-hour show
The first season
In 1989, a team of production companies adapted The Simpsons into a half-hour series for the Fox
Broadcasting Company. The team included what is now the Klasky-Csupo, Inc. animation house. Jim
Brooks negotiated a provision in the contract with the Fox network that prevented Fox from interfering
with the show's content.[10]Groening said his goal in creating the show was to offer the audience an
alternative to what he called "the mainstream trash" that they were watching.[11] The half-hour series
premiered on December 17, 1989 with "Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire", a Christmas special.[12]
The series was originally set to debut in the fall of 1989 with the episode "Some Enchanted Evening",
which was meant to introduce the main characters.[13] However, during the first screening of the
episode, the producers discovered that the animation was so appalling that 70% of the episode needed to
be redone.[14] The producers considered aborting the series if the next episode ("Bart the Genius")
turned out as bad, but it only suffered from easily fixable problems. The producers convinced Fox to
move the debut to December 17, and aired "Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire" as the first episode of
the series.[13]
The Simpsons was the Fox network's first TV series to rank among a season's top 30 highest-rated
shows.[15] Its success prompted Fox to reschedule the series to compete with The Cosby Show, a move
that hurt the ratings of The Simpsons.[16] In 1992, Tracey Ullman filed a lawsuit against Fox, claiming
that her show was the source of the series' success. The suit said she should receive a share of the profits
of The Simpsons—a claim rejected by the courts.[9]
The first season won one Emmy Award, and received four additional nominations. Although television
shows are limited to one episode a category, "Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire" was considered a
separate special, and nominated alongside "Life on the Fast Lane" for Outstanding Animated Program;
"Life on the Fast Lane" won the award. "Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire" was also nominated for
"Outstanding Editing in a Miniseries or Special", while "The Call of the Simpsons" was nominated for
"Outstanding Individual Achievement in Sound Mixing for a Comedy Series or a Special". The main
theme song, composed by Danny Elfman, was nominated for "Outstanding Achievement in Main Title
Theme Music".[17]
The show was controversial from its beginning. The rebellious lead character at the time, Bart,
frequently received no punishment for his misbehavior, which led some parents and conservatives to
characterize him as a poor role model for children.[18][19] At the time, then-current President George H.
W. Bush said, "We're going to strengthen the American family to make them more like the Waltons and
less like the Simpsons."[20] Several US public schools even banned The Simpsons merchandise and t-
shirts, such as one featuring Bart and the caption "Underachiever ('And proud of it, man!')".[20] Despite
the ban, The Simpsons merchandise sold well and generated US$2 billion in revenue during the first 14
months of sales.[20]
The second season
"Two Cars in Every Garage and Three Eyes on Every Fish" was the first episode produced for the
season, but "Bart Gets an "F"" aired first because Bart was popular at the time and the producers had
wanted to premiere with a Bart themed episode.[21] The second season featured a new opening sequence,
which was shortened by fifteen seconds from its original length of roughly 1 minute, 30 seconds. The
opening sequence for the first season showed Bart stealing a "Bus Stop" sign; whilst the new sequence
featured him skateboarding past several characters who had been introduced during the previous season.
Starting with this season, there were three versions of the opening: a full roughly 1 minute 15 second
long version, a 45 second version and a 25 second version. This gave the show's editors more leeway.[14]
Due to the show's success, over the summer of 1990, the Fox network decided to switch The
Simpsons timeslots. It would move from 8:00 PM on Sunday night to the same time on Thursday where
it would compete with The Cosby Show, the number one show at the time.[22] Many of the producers,
including James L. Brooks, were against the move because The Simpsons had been in the top 10 while
airing on Sunday and they felt the move would destroyed its ratings.[13] All through the summer of
1990, several news outlets published stories about the supposed "Bill vs. Bart" rivalry.[13] The Cosby
Show beat The Simpsons every time during the second season and The Simpsons fell out of the top 10. It
would not be until the third season episode "Homer at the Bat" that The Simpsons would beat The Cosby
Show in the ratings.[21] The show remained in its Thursday timeslot until Season 6.[22]
New Orleans controversy
During the fourth season they released the episode "A Streetcar Named Marge". The musical within the
episode contains a controversial song about New Orleans, which describes the city as a "home of pirates,
drunks and whores", among other things. Jeff Martin, the writer of the episode, had meant the song to be
a parody of the opening number in Sweeney Todd, which speaks of London in unflattering terms.[23] Al
Jean later explained that two Cajun characters were supposed to walk out of the theater in disgust, but
none of the voice actors could provide a convincing Cajun accent.[24]
Before the premiere of the fourth season, the producers sent two episodes to critics: "Kamp Krusty" and
"A Streetcar Named Marge".[21] A New Orleans critic viewed "A Streetcar Named Marge" and
published the song lyrics in his newspaper before the episode aired.[24] Many readers took the lyrics out
of context, and New Orleans' Fox affiliate, WNOL, received about one hundred complaints on the day
the episode aired. Several local radio stations also held on-air protests in response to the song.[25]
The Simpsons' producers rushed out a chalkboard gag for "Homer the Heretic", which aired a week after
"A Streetcar Named Marge". It read, "I will not defame New Orleans." The gag was their attempt to
"apologize" for the song and hopefully bring the controversy to an end.[23] "We didn't realize people
would get so mad," said Al Jean. "It was the best apology we could come up with in eight words or
less."[26] The issue passed quickly, and a person in a Bart Simpson costume even served as Krewe of
Tucks Grand Marshal at the 1993 New Orleans Mardi Gras.[27]
Later seasons
In 2002 Rio de Janeiro tourist board found the season 13 episode "Blame It on Lisa" so offending for the
Brazilian people that they threatened to sue the producers. The board's exact word were "What really
hurt was the idea of the monkeys, the image that Rio de Janeiro was a jungle ... It's a completely unreal
image of the city". The producers' apologies and the issue did not go any further, but was international
news for a while. Anyway the episode was forbidden on Brazil.[28]
In Season 14, production switched from traditional cel animation to digital ink and paint.[29] The first
episode to experiment with digital coloring was "Radioactive Man" in 1995. Animators used digital ink
and paint during production of the Season 12 episode "Tennis the Menace", but Gracie Films delayed the
regular use of digital ink and paint until two seasons later. The already completed "Tennis the Menace"
was broadcast as made.[30]
In Season 28 The Simpsons production switched from Film Roman to Fox Television Animation in
2016, starting Dad Behavior.
Film
20th Century Fox, Gracie Films, and Film Roman produced an animated The Simpsons film that was
released on July 27, 2007.[31] The production staff of The Simpsons had entertained the thought of a film
since early in the series, but production never came together. Groening felt a feature length film would
allow them to increase the show's scale and animate sequences too complex for a TV series.[32] The film
was directed by David Silvermanand written by a team of Simpsons writers comprising Matt Groening,
James L. Brooks, Al Jean, George Meyer, Mike Reiss, John Swartzwelder, Jon Vitti, David
Mirkin, Mike Scully, Matt Selman, and Ian Maxtone-Graham.[31]Work continued on the screenplay
from 2003 onwards and did not cease,[33] taking place in the small bungalow where Matt Groening first
pitched The Simpsons in 1987.[34] The writers spent six months discussing a plot,[35]and each pitched a
"half-assed" idea.[34] Groening read about a town that had to get rid of pig feces in their water supply,
which inspired the plot of the film.[36] Having eventually decided on the basic outline for the film, the
writers then separated it into seven sections. Jean, Scully, Reiss, Swartzwelder, Vitti, Mirkin, and Meyer
wrote twenty five pages each, with the group meeting one month later to merge the seven sections in to
one "very rough draft."[12] The script went through one hundred revisions.[35] Groening described his
desire to also make the film dramatically stronger than a TV episode, as "we wanna really give you
something that you haven't seen before. There are moments you actually forget that you're watching a
cartoon and that is difficult when you have characters as ugly as the Simpsons."[37] The film was
originally planned for release in summer 2006,[38] but Al Jean stated at San Diego's Comic-Con
International 2004 that the producers were taking their time, to make sure that the film was perfect.[39]
Production of the film occurred alongside continued writing of the series despite long-time claims by
those involved in the show that a film would enter production only after the series had concluded.
[31] There had been talk of a possible feature-length Simpsons film ever since the early seasons of the
series. James L. Brooks originally thought that the story of the episode "Kamp Krusty" was suitable for a
film, but encountered difficulties in trying to expand the script to feature-length.[40] For a long time,
difficulties such as lack of a suitable story and an already fully engaged crew of writers delayed the
project.[41]
After winning a Fox and USA Today competition, Springfield hosted the film's world premiere.[42] The
Simpsons Movie grossed a combined total of $74 million in its opening weekend in the US, taking it to
the top of the box office,[43] and set the record for highest grossing opening weekend for a film based on
a television series, surpassing Mission Impossible II.[44] It opened at the top of the international box
office, taking $96 million from seventy-one overseas territories — including $27.8 million in the United
Kingdom, making it Fox's second highest opening ever in that country.[45] In Australia, it grossed
AU$13.2 million, the biggest opening for an animated film and third largest opening weekend in the
country.[46] As of November 23, 2007 the film has a worldwide gross of $525,267,904.[47]
In July 2007, convenience store chain 7-Eleven converted 11 of its stores in the United States and one in
Canada into Kwik-E-Marts to celebrate the release of The Simpsons Movie. Prior to July, the promotion
had long been known but the locations were kept a secret until the morning of July 1, when the 12 stores
were made over with industrial foam, vinyl and actual Kwik-E-Mart signs.[48] These 12 locations, as
well as the majority of other North American 7-Elevens, sold products found in The Simpsons, such
as Buzz Cola, Krusty-O's, Squishees, pink frosted "Sprinklicious doughnuts" and other Simpsons-themed
merchandise.It was decided that Duff Beer would not be sold due to the movie being rated PG-13, and
the promoters wanted to have "good, responsible fun," though it was noted that it was a tough decision.
[48] The promotion resulted in a 30% increase in profits for the changed 7-Eleven stores.[49] The
conversions lasted through early August, when the stores were converted back 
am Rest Home for the Emotionally Interesting, where he meets a towering white guy who claims
to be (and sounds exactly like) Michael Jackson. "If you ever find your marbles," Homer tells his
new friend before being released, "come visit us." As it turns out, the man is there voluntarily.
"Back in 1979," he says, "I got real depressed when my Off the Wall album just got one lousy
Grammy nomination."

Before Homer brings his new friend home to his family, Bart spreads the rumor that Michael
Jackson is coming to Springfield. The town is angry to find out that the visitor, as Bart puts it, is just
a mental patient. "You’d be amazed how often I hear that," replies the man. He then helps Bart
write a song for Lisa, who felt neglected by her brother on her birthday. "Happy Birthday, Lisa" is
by far the sweetest, catchiest song in the history of the show. Hell, it was written by Michael
Jackson! Although he didn’t actually sing it. Soundalike Kipp Lennon did. Jackson, who requested
to be billed as John Jay Smith in the credits, pulled the switch to prank his brothers.

In the episode’s final moments, the man reveals his true identity. His name is Leon Kompowsky, a
New Jersey bricklayer who one day realized he could talk and sing just like Michael Jackson. "All of
a sudden, everyone was smiling at me," he says, "and I was only doing good on this earth. So I kept
on doing it. To make a tired point, which one of us is truly crazy?"

There are conflicting reports about his exact role in the process, but Jackson contributed to making
Bart’s hit single, "Do the Bartman." Leon was supposed to return to The Simpsons  in a sequel to
"Stark Raving Dad" written by Conan O’Brien, but proposed guest star Prince rejected the script.
Fox

9. "Bart Sells His Soul"

Season 7, Episode 4

Airdate: October 8, 1995

Written by: Greg Daniels

Scarier than any of the "Treehouse of Horror" specials, this perfect bit of horror comedy delves
into Bart’s existential crisis. Greg Daniels blames the boredom of boarding school for the idea. One
night an abrasive classmate questions the existence of the human soul. To mess with him, Daniels
takes out a piece of paper and wrote, "I sell my soul to Greg Daniels for the price of 50 cents." The
teen agrees to the terms, goes up to his room, then returns spooked. "I want my my soul back," he
tells Daniels, who recalled driving up the resale price before realizing that making money off a soul
was a little too Satan-like to stomach.

Bart is often forced to reckon with the havoc that he wreaks, but never as agonizingly as he does
here. When Milhouse tells on Bart for swapping the week’s church hymn with "In-A-Gadda-Da-
Vida," Reverend Lovejoy makes them clean the organ pipes. After Milhouse says that he snitched
because he doesn’t "want hungry birds pecking [his] soul forever," Bart claims that there’s no such
thing as a soul and sells his to Milhouse for $5.
When Lisa warns Bart that his soul is "the symbol of everything fine inside us," he begins to realize
that his shit-stirring spirit has been crushed. Not even Itchy & Scratchy  makes him laugh anymore.
His low point comes when in a nightmare he sees his classmates playing with their souls. Then
they all hop in boats and everyone has a partner to help row except Bart, who notices his soul
paddling for Milhouse. Daniels loves that scene, which might be the most painful
in Simpsons  history. Lisa eventually buys Bart’s soul back, but not before finally doing some
serious introspection.

"Bart Sells His Soul" would be high on the list anyway, but an A-plus subplot gives it a boost. Moe
turns his bar into the family-friendly Uncle Moe’s Family Feedbag, a chain-style restaurant with "a
whole lotta crazy crap on the walls." The experiment doesn’t last.

Fox

8. "Homer at the Bat"

Season 3, Episode 17

Airdate: February 20, 1992

Written by: John Swartzwelder

"Homer at the Bat," as much as a half-hour cartoon could be, was an event. Nine major league All-
Stars appear in the episode, which was the first installment of The Simpsons to beat The Cosby
Show  in the ratings. But this is more than merely a benchmark. It’s an extravaganza that John
Swartzwelder, a member of the writers’ wing of the Simpsons  Hall of Fame, stuffed full of surreal
moments and obscure references.

After using a magic bat (like in The Natural) to lead the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant softball
team to the city championship against Shelbyville, Mr. Burns bets the owner of the rival plant $1
million on the game’s outcome. To ensure a victory, the malevolent billionaire asks Mr. Smithers
to enlist a bunch of long-dead ringers such as Cap Anson and Mordecai "Three-Finger" Brown.
(Old-timey Americana is a Swartzwelder trademark.) Burns’s toadie settles on recruiting a crew of
current players.

The show uses its nine guests in uniquely Simpsonian ways. At Moe’s, Wade Boggs argues with
Barney about which of England’s prime ministers was the best. Ozzie Smith gets lost in the
Springfield Mystery Spot. Ken Griffey Jr. drinks nerve tonic and his head swells grotesquely.
Depressed that he’s been supplanted by pro athletes, Homer finally gets his shot. With the score
tied in the bottom of the ninth inning and a left-hander on the mound, Homer, a righty, pinch hits
for Darryl Strawberry. "It’s called playing the percentages," says Burns, the manager.

The first pitch Homer sees hits him in the head, plating the winning run and knocking him out cold.
A new cut of Terry Cashman’s "Talkin’ Baseball," with the names of the players in the episode
replacing the originals, plays over the end credits. (Growing up, I didn’t know that the original
version even existed.) Maybe more than any other, the episode brings on nostalgia
in Simpsons  fans.

"Even though it’s rooted in a very specific era of baseball, there’s something about it that is very
timeless," said journalist Erik Malinowski, who for Deadspin  wrote the definitive account of the
making of "Homer at the Bat.""Anyone who’s played any sport at any level have all had an
experience like [Homer’s]. We’ve all had to overcome people that are better than us."
Fox

7. "Itchy & Scratchy & Marge"

Season 2, Episode 9

Airdate: December 20, 1990

Written by: John Swartzwelder

It’s hard to imagine that a show big enough to have its own theme park attraction ever could’ve
been considered edgy. But back in the early ’90s, The Simpsons  was viewed as transgressive. Some
considered a cartoon that starred an aggressively lazy oaf and his authority-defying son to be
threatening. With "Itchy & Scratchy & Marge," the series took aim at the hypocritical backlash
often directed at controversial pop culture phenomena.

As Homer builds a spice rack in the basement, Maggie sneaks up on him and hits his head with a
mallet. While wondering what gave her the idea to bop her daddy on the head, Marge notices the
baby watching an episode of ultraviolent show-within-a-show Itchy & Scratchy. Right after the
mouse stabs the cat, Maggie swings a pencil in the direction of Homer. Horrified, Marge bans the
cartoon in the house and writes Itchy & Scratchy International a letter imploring the studio to tone
down its program’s "psychotic violence." Sleazy CEO Roger Meyers Jr., who’s voiced by character
actor Alex Rocco, replies with a note saying, among other things, "Our research shows that one
person cannot make a difference, no matter how big a screwball she is."
Marge responds by founding Springfieldians for Non-Violence, Understanding and Helping. SNUH
leads protests against Itchy & Scratchy, which lampoons Marge on the show by turning her into a
squirrel that the cat and mouse bash with baseball bats. But the program is besieged by angry
letters. At that point, Myers calls the screwball for ideas on how to make the cartoon less violent.
With Marge’s help, the show’s hacky writers create an episode in which Itchy and Scratchy share a
pitcher of lemonade. Naturally, Springfield’s kids hate it and stage a protest of their own by
turning off their TVs and playing outside.

The next day, Helen Lovejoy and Maude Flanders show up with hopes that Marge’s group will join
in a protest of Michelangelo’s David, which is touring the United States. "It graphically portrays
parts of the human body," Helen says, "which, practical as they may be, are evil." Marge realizes
she’s painted herself into a corner. During an interview on news program Smartline, on which
she’d appeared earlier in the episode, Marge is called out for her selective censorship concerns. "I
guess one person can  make a difference," she says, "but most of the time they probably
shouldn’t."

Marge and Homer then go see what the latter refers to as Michelangelo’s "Dave." After his wife
expresses disappointment that the kids are at home watching "a cat and mouse disembowel each
other," Homer laughs and says that they’ll soon be forced to see it as part of a school field trip.

Fox

6. "Radio Bart"
Season 3, Episode 13

Airdate: January 9, 1992

Written by: Jon Vitti

"Radio Bart" has a terrifically silly premise: After a crappy birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese’s
stand-in Wall E. Weasel’s, Bart discovers that the gift Homer gives him isn’t so lame after all. It’s
called the Superstar Celebrity Microphone and it allows Bart to pipe his voice into any nearby AM
radio. He uses the gadget to pull pranks on just about everyone in his life. (He tells Rod and Todd
Flanders that he’s God.)

"Tina Fey did an interview about writing 30 Rock in which she said she wanted it to be like The
Simpsons in that she wanted to be smart, but she also wanted to maintain the freedom to be
really stupid when she felt like it," writer Jon Vitti said. "It was such a happy thing that someone
that great watched what we did closely enough to see that, and liked it enough to have it inform
her thinking about that great show. And she understood us perfectly."

Bart soon lowers a radio down the well, calls out for help through his mic, and, when the town
mobilizes, claims that he’s a 10-year-old named Timmy O’Toole. As the media swarms and no one
is able to save poor Timmy, Bart keeps up the ruse. Krusty is so moved that he enlists guest star
Sting to record a "We Are the World"–like tribute song called "We’re Sending Our Love Down the
Well." (Krusty has a solo.) "This isn’t about show business," Sting says. "This is about some kid
down a hole … or something." Said Vitti: "Krusty is doing typical celebrity posturing in this story,
but it felt more fun to make Sting terribly sincere."

Lisa eventually catches on to Bart’s scheme. When he scoffs at the prospect of the police catching
him, she reminds her brother that he put a "Property of Bart Simpson" label on his radio. Then,
while attempting to retrieve it in the middle of the night, he falls down the well. When the town
finds out it has a real Baby Jessica situation on its hands, its citizens aren’t sympathetic. But even
after learning that Bart was behind Timmy O’Toole, everyone — including Sting — joins together
to dig Bart out. "You wanted to casually create complicated logical mistakes — just show Sting
down in the pit with a shovel without comment," Vitti said, "and let the viewers realize, Wait,
that’s stupid, the celebrities don’t do that part of it."

It’s a beautifully silly ending. "We never wanted to obligate ourselves to be smart all the time,"
Vitti said, "if for no other reason than we weren’t smart enough to be smart all the time."
Fox

5. "Homer the Heretic"

Season 4, Episode 3

Airdate: October 8, 1992

Written by: George Meyer

Homer Simpson’s decision to give up religion is less a thoughtfully considered choice than it is a
rejection of tedious fearmongering. "I’m not a bad guy!" he says when God visits him in a mid-
episode dream. "I work hard and I love my kids. So why should I spend half my Sunday hearing
about how I’m going to hell?" In America, his view is not uncommon.

George Meyer, one of the greatest sitcom writers in the history of the format, was the perfect
person to script "Homer the Heretic." In David Owen’s excellent New Yorker  profile from 2000,
Meyer talked about his issues with his Catholic upbringing. "The main thing was that there was no
sense of proportion," he said. "I would chew a piece of gum at school, and the nun would say,
‘Jesus is very angry with you about that.’"

It’s only natural that Meyer has Homer decide to stop attending church with his family every week.
He enjoys his free Sundays, watching football and staying in bed like, as he says, "a big toasty
cinnamon bun." Pleas by Marge, Reverend Lovejoy, Ned Flanders, and God himself (in a dream) do
nothing to sway Homer. But in the climactic scene, after Homer falls asleep and the cigar he’s
smoking causes the house to go up in flames, he’s saved by none other than his pious neighbor
Ned, who along with a group of volunteer firefighters comes to the rescue. In his kitchen
afterward, Homer kneels and tries to repent. That leads to this:

Ned: Homer, God didn’t set your house on fire.

Reverend Lovejoy: No, but He was working in the hearts of your friends and neighbors when they
came to your aid, be they Christian [Ned], Jew [Krusty], or miscellaneous [Apu].

Apu: Hindu! There are 700 million of us.

Reverend Lovejoy: Aw, that’s super.

In his article, Owen cites this exchange as an example of why The Simpsons  was smart not to use a
laugh track. Lovejoy’s last line, he wrote, "would have been too delicate to float above
superimposed peals of laughter."

The next Sunday Homer returns to church, where he’s seen snoring. (He visits heaven in his
dream, again talking to God and this time also seeing Ben Franklin and Jimi Hendrix play air
hockey.) In classic Simpsons  fashion, he learns his lesson. Barely. His faith is still intact, even if
Sunday-morning services can’t keep him awake.

Fox

4. "Marge vs. the Monorail"

Season 4, Episode 12
Airdate: January 14, 1993

Written by: Conan O’Brien

The Simpsons  has long been celebrated as the first animated series to be truly grounded in reality.
But it’s still a cartoon, and thus not bound by the same rules as a live-action show. "If you had a
strange idea for something in Mr. Burns’s basement, or a monorail system snaking through the
town of Springfield," former Simpsons writer and current late-night host Conan O’Brien
told Vanity Fair  in 2007, "it could happen." And it did.

Take, for example, O’Brien’s "Marge vs. the Monorail." Without animation, O’Brien’s masterpiece
probably would’ve been impossible to pull off. After aFlintstones  parody intro, the Music Man–
inspired musical begins with the Environmental Protection Agency forcing Mr. Burns to pay a $3
million fine to Springfield. At the meeting held to decide how to spend the money, a man in a
bowtie named Lyle Lanley — who’s voiced by Phil Hartman — shows up and proposes building a
monorail. Over the objections of Marge, who wants Main Street fixed, Lanley uses a song to
convince the town to go for the newfangled transportation system.

While Homer is learning to be a monorail conductor, Marge learns that Lanley is a grifter who’s
ripped off several other towns. By then it’s too late to stop the first monorail ride. When the
brakes fail, Homer uses the "M" on the monorail sign to create an anchor, which wraps around a
giant doughnut sign and stops the train.

"Well, my work is done here," guest star Leonard Nimoy says. When Barney replies, "You didn’t do
anything," Nimoy responds, "Didn’t I?" Then he beams out. Something like that normally would’ve
been too fantastical for The Simpsons, but an exception was made for Spock.
Fox

3. "Mr. Plow"

Season 4, Episode 9

Airdate: November 19, 1992

Written by: Jon Vitti

"Mr. Plow" was the kind of idea that Jon Vitti loved. "What often worked best for me was to get
the weirdest story I could and write it more realistically than you’d think," he said. The writer
applied that approach to a madcap episode in which Homer and Barney each start a snow-removal
business and become bitter rivals.

After Homer totals both family cars in a snow storm, the Simpsons attend the Springfield Auto
Show, where a pushy salesman sells Homer a $20,000 truck equipped with a plow. (The family also
meets ’60s Batman  star Adam West, with whom the kids aren’t impressed.) The investment
doesn’t start paying off until Homer films a catchy TV commercial. Vitti wrote the Mr. Plow jingle
lyrics — "Call Mr. Plow / That’s my name / That name again is Mr. Plow." — only as a placeholder.
"But," he said, "my version was so terrible people thought it was funny and left it in."

Homer soon has bunches of customers. Mayor Quimby even gives him the key to the city. And
Marge finds his Mr. Plow jacket sexy. In awe of Homer’s accomplishments, Barney tells his friend
that he wishes he were a hero, too. Homer tells him he just needs to be the best damn Barney he
can be. The sloppy drunk, who’d been dressing up in a giant diaper for his job at baby store, buys a
truck and dubs himself the Plow King. He takes aim at Homer, even hiring Linda Ronstadt to record
a disparaging jingle. "Mr. Plow is a loser and I think he is a boozer," go the lyrics, which Jeff Martin
wrote. "So you better make that call to the Plow King." (Vitti attended Ronstadt’s recording session
in San Francisco. "Standing at the next microphone and hearing that voice live was my favorite
single experience as a Simpsons  writer," he said.)

Whether he knows it or not, Barney’s resentment of Homer is deep-seated. Through a flashback to

high school, the audience finds out that the latter introduced the former to booze, and not vice
versa. The quick scene is hilarious. It’s also profoundly sad. "John Swartzwelder said a lot of smart
things about The Simpsons," Vitti said, "and one of my favorites was, ‘The Simpsons is not a
comedy, The Simpsons is a drama done by stupid people.’"

With Barney cutting into his profits, Homer commissions a new avant-garde TV ad. It has no effect
on business. So during a blizzard, he anonymously calls Barney and tells him his driveway atop
Widow’s Peak needs plowing. When an avalanche buries his rival, Homer feels guilty and drives up
the mountain to save him. The old pals reconcile, vowing to become partners. "When two best
friends work together," Homer says, "not even God himself can stop them." God then surreally
chimes in with "Oh, no?" and brings Springfield warm weather, which melts the snow and ruins
both plow careers.

"You almost always wanted the peril to be real," Vitti said. "But then someone would come up
with something funny enough that you would have to bend the rules."
2. "Lisa’s Substitute"

Season 2, Episode 19

Airdate: April 25, 1991

Written by: Jon Vitti

By late in the second season of The Simpsons, Vitti recalled, the show’s creative staff had started
to realize just how many layers of comedy it could jam into an episode. So when executive
producer James L. Brooks came in with the idea of Lisa falling for her Dustin Hoffman–voiced
substitute teacher, it made Vitti nervous.

"There’s an insurance in doing jokes," said Vitti, who got the assignment. "You can write 40 jokes,
and, if 15 of them fail, there are still 25 jokes people can like. But if you invest completely in your
story and people don’t like it, you’ve probably written the worst Simpsons episode ever." Still,
even knowing that he’d be writing for an Oscar winner (who’s credited as Sam Etic), Vitti wanted
to keep "Lisa’s Substitute" as small as possible. That wasn’t easy. First, Vitti’s script needed to be
chopped down to broadcast length.

"John Swartzwelder happily volunteered," Vitti remembered. "[He said], ‘I’ll get some time out of
it,’ and started ripping pages out of the script and throwing them on the floor. The fact that he was
immune to sentiment was part of what made Swartzwelder our best writer, but it was still pretty
disheartening to see the best writer react that way to your script."

The edit helped lead to an impeccable episode. It begins with Miss Hoover announcing that she
has Lyme disease. Soon Mr. Bergstrom arrives dressed like an 1830 Texas cowboy. When he asks
the class to name the three things wrong with his costume, Lisa raises her hand and points out the
historical inaccuracies. Despite being wrong about Jewish cowboys not existing — "There were a
few Jewish cowboys," the mensch of a substitute says, "big guys who were great shots and spent
money freely" — Mr. Bergstrom accepts the answers and gives her his hat as a prize. Lisa is
immediately smitten by the engaging young teacher, who reads the class Charlotte’s Web and
encourages the students to show off their talents.

At home, Lisa gushes about Mr. Bergstrom. When Marge tells her daughter that it sounds like the
way she feels about Homer, Lisa scoffs. Back at school, Bart is making a spectacle out of himself
while running for class president. "Oh, you’ll never go broke appealing to the lowest common
denominator," Lisa says. Mr. Bergstrom then assures an embarrassed Lisa that she’ll miss her
brother’s antics later, "when your life takes you places the rest of us have only heard about."

"Places where my intelligence will be an asset and not a liability?" she asks.

"Yes," Mr. Bergstrom responds. "There is such a place."

For Lisa, whose gifts are never appreciated enough, it’s a rare moment of validation. The bond
between the two characters was forged in a New York studio: Yeardley Smith and Hoffman
recorded their parts together. "Once we did that," Brooks told USA Today  in 2012, "it put a
priority on the way we work with our actors, that we’re all in the same room at the same time,
whenever possible." The connection of Lisa and Mr. Bergstrom can be seen in their expressions.
For that, Vitti credited director Rich Moore. "Rich’s calling card was the perfection of his small
touches," Vitti said of Moore, who’s gone on to helm Wreck-It-Ralph  and Zootopia. "The facial
acting in his episodes was always the best."

While visiting the Springfield Museum of Natural History with Lisa and her father, Mr. Bergstrom
tells Homer that his star pupil lacks a strong male role model. Homer doesn’t take it well. Sensing
Lisa’s disappointment, Marge suggests having Mr. Bergstrom over for dinner. Before Lisa can invite
him, however, Miss Hoover returns to school. Lisa then tracks down Mr. Bergstrom at the train
station.

Brooks suggested the ensuing exchange, which remains the most emotional scene

in Simpsons  history. After telling Lisa that he’s needed elsewhere, Mr. Bergstrom says, "Whenever
you feel like you’re alone, and there’s nobody you can rely on, this is all you need to know." Then
he hands her a note. It reads: "You are Lisa Simpson."

At the dinner table that night, a mopey Lisa yells at her father for not understanding her sadness.
She even calls him a baboon. "Did you hear that, Marge?" Homer responds. "She called me a
baboon. The stupidest, ugliest, smelliest ape of them all." At the urging of his wife, Homer futily
attempts to console Lisa. "At least I’m good at … monkey work," he says. "You know? Monkey?"
Then he starts making monkey noises. Finally, Lisa starts laughing and apologizes for insulting him.

Afterward, when Marge asks how he smoothed things over, Homer cuts her off. "Let’s just go to
bed," he says. "I’m on the biggest roll of my life." The parenting clinic that Homer puts on proves
what Simpsons  fans have always known: Even the stupidest, ugliest, smelliest ape of them all can
be a good father.
Fox

1. "Last Exit to Springfield"

Season 4, Episode 17

Airdate: March 11, 1993

Written by: Jay Kogen and Wallace Wolodarsky

Homer Simpson represents the supremely disempowered employee in all of us. But sometimes a
man like Homer must take a stand.

When it comes to picking the best Simpsons  episode, there is no consensus. But to me, the show
peaked with "Last Exit to Springfield." It’s a perfectly baked layer cake of pop culture references,
absurd jokes, middle-class angst, and family drama.

The episode, which Jay Kogen and Wallace Wolodarsky wrote off of an idea conceived by then-
showrunner Mike Reiss, kicks off with Bart and Homer watching the latest McBain  movie. When
Bart comments on the evilness of the action flick’s villain, Homer says, "It’s just a movie, son.
There’s nobody that evil in real life." The camera then cuts to a cackling Mr. Burns, who has
decided that his employees’ union contract is too bloated.

We soon meet dentist Dr. Wolfe, who scares Ralph Wiggum into brushing by showing him The Big
Book of British Smiles. After examining Lisa’s teeth, the doctor tells her that she needs braces. "Oh,
no," she says. "I’ll be socially unpopular. More so." When Marge breaks the news to Homer, he’s
not worried. After all, the union won a dental plan in the strike of ’88. (While his coworkers were
demanding equitable treatment, he was at the lunch truck yelling, "Where’s my burrito?")

At the next gathering of the Local 643 (the International Brotherhood of Jazz Dancers, Pastry
Chefs, and Nuclear Technicians), Carl tells the members that the new contract is basically
unchanged except that the dental plan has been cut in exchange for free beer at meetings. "So
long, dental plan!" Lenny says as he pours himself a cold one. Then comes an all-time
great Simpsons  moment: the slow calibration of Homer’s brain. For half a minute, Lenny’s and
Marge’s voices echo in his head. After hearing "dental plan" and "Lisa needs braces" enough times,
he has a necessary epiphany. "If we give up our dental plan," he says, "I’ll have to pay for Lisa’s
braces!"

His dismay reminds me of something that John Swartzwelder once told fellow Simpsons  writer
Ron Hauge about Homer: "He loves his food. He loves his sex. He’s completely stupid. And he will
defend his family to the death." Homer may be an idiot, but his wife and kids are his world. Even if
it doesn’t always seem that way, he’s driven to do right by them.

Homer quickly persuades his brethren to rip up the contract. They name him union president, and
he takes on Mr. Burns. With Homer facing a crisis, the episode pops with memorable sequences.
While basking in the glory of his new position, Homer imagines himself as a Don Fanucci–esque
mob boss. And while getting her inexpensive, primitive braces put on, Lisa drifts off into a nitrous-
induced Yellow Submarine–like dream.

Meanwhile, Mr. Burns attempts to break Homer. (During negotiations at his mansion, Burns shows
Homer his room with a thousand monkeys on a thousand typewriters working on the greatest
novel known to man.) Intimidation doesn’t work, mostly because Homer doesn’t understand his
boss’s tactics. Homer then calls a strike. On the picket line, Lisa even belts out a supportive folk
anthem. Burns eventually turns off the town’s power, but when he hears his aggrieved workers
united in song, he gives in to Homer’s demand on the condition that he resign as union president.
He agrees and then spins around on the floor like Curly from  The Three Stooges. "Smithers," Burns
says, "I’m beginning to think that Homer Simpson was not the brilliant tactician I thought he was."
With dental covered again, Lisa gets fancy braces.

In America, an unremarkable schmo doesn’t usually stand a chance against a ruthless plutocrat.
But every so often, the former turns the tables on the latter, says "Woo-hoo!," and becomes a
hero.

An earlier version of this piece misquoted Homer; the correct line is "Where’s my burrito?"

How an episode of The Simpsons is made

 By Chris Plante

 on October 25, 2015 10:00 am

 Email 
  @plante 

 Share on Facebook  Tweet  Share  Pin 

In 1996, The Simpsons passed The Flintstones as the longest running prime-time animated show. In

the 30-year interim, the tenor of adult cartoons had shifted dramatically: The Simpsons was more
caustic and puerile than The Flintstones, a shameless Stone Age remake of hit 1950s sitcom The
Honeymooners. What had hardly changed was the creative process.

Like The Flintstones, The Simpsons relied on a large Los Angeles-based writer’s room, a coterie of

directors, a squad of storyboard and design artists, and dozens of animators. The biggest change in
production over three decades was simply geography; by 1996, The Simpsons had begun
outsourcing the final stage of animation to a studio in South Korea.

A year after The Simpsons passed The Flintstones, South Park premiered on Comedy Central. If The

Simpsons was a middle finger to the establishment, the animation of Trey Parker and Matt Stone
was a burning bag of shit. It was cheap and fast to animate with paper cutouts and computer
animation, which allowed the show to comment on recent events. Cartoons at the time, requiring
months of costly animation, needed to be comparably timeless in their story and humor,
but South Park targeted the present.

Thanks to computer animation and the internet, South Park, the shows of Adult Swim, and
countless online-only animated shorts, like Homestar Runner, have made animation faster,
rougher, and looser. But The Simpsons, to this day, embraces the formula of the past. While an
episode of  South Park can now be created in a single week by a lean team, The Simpsons has
actually added roles and failsafes to its lengthy process. In the world of animated TV,  The
Simpsons may be the last of its kind, an expensive, high-touch, slow-paced production built on
formulas dating back to Walt Disney and Hanna-Barbera. 

The Simpsons is now in its 27th season. This is how an episode of the program is made, a detailed,
meticulous look at a process that has its bedrock but builds upon it with the tools and lessons of
the future.

It begins with a pitch….

A few weeks before the warm Christmas of Southern California, the writers of The Simpsons — the
longest-running sitcom in the US, starring everybody’s favorite family: Homer, Marge, Lisa, Baby
Maggie, and their son Bart — take a retreat. The rest of the season, the team breaks scripts in the
sterile writers' rooms of the Fox studio lot, but the creative process always began in a home or the
big conference space of a nearby hotel.

Each writer brings a fleshed-out minute or so episode pitch, which they deliver with gusto to a
room full of funny people. They laugh, take notes, then co-creator Matt Groening, executive
producer James L. Brooks, and showrunner Al Jean — a portion of the braintrust from the earliest
days — provide feedback.

In an essay on  Splitsider  about the writing process of seasons three through
eight, former Simpsons writer and producer Bill Oakley described the pleasure of the retreats :

"It was always a huge treat to see. You had no idea what George Meyer (for instance) was going to
say, and suddenly it was like this fantastic Simpsonsepisode pouring out of his mouth that you
never dreamed of. And it was like, wow, this is where this stuff comes from.

A lot of times people worked collaboratively, too. We would work with Conan, back and forth, and
we’d exchange ideas and help polish them up. And so everybody would usually come with two,
sometimes three ideas. You’d take fifteen minutes and you’d say your idea in front of everybody
— all the writers, Jim Brooks, Matt Groening, Sam Simon when he was still there, and also the
writers assistants who would be there taking notes on all this stuff."
Writing a draft

After receiving notes and some creative direction, an episode’s writer takes two weeks to pen a
first draft. "Almost all of the writing is done here at the Fox [lot] in one of two rewrite rooms," says
Al Jean, who at the time of the interview is deep into production of the show’s upcoming 27th
season. "The two rooms was a change that came about around season nine. We split because we
had enough writers, and we could get more done."

THE WRITERS' RETREAT HAS EVOLVED, BUT THE PURPOSE REMAINS THE SAME

Getting more done with more tools and more hands is the throughline of the
modern Simpsons production process. There are more people doing more jobs with more failsafes
at a higher cost on The Simpsons  than the majority of — if not all — animated television shows.

A writer has four to six weeks to complete rewrites. "We’ll continue to rework [the script] six or
seven times before the table read," says Al Jean. "Jim and I will give notes. We rewrite it."

In those late night television commercials that promise to make everyone a screenwriter, the
script is often called the blueprint of our favorite television shows and films, a term that implies an
exacting, blessed, top level instruction which the rest of the dozens if not hundreds if not
thousands of artists involved obey. That notion — as anyone who has seen a summer blockbuster
or network sitcom can tell — is false. The script is vulnerable, malleable, and subject to constant
scrutiny. There's a blueprint for animated shows, but it comes later. The completed draft is like a
guide through the woods, ready to be supplemented, revised, or outright redrawn if need be.
(An excerpt from Judd Apatow's The Simpsons script, The Daily Beast)

The table read

Each Thursday of production, the cast, producers, and writers meet for a table read of the latest
script. Some of the cast attends the table read, others phone into the room. Occasionally, voice
actor Chris Edgerly, who has handled "additional voices" for the show since 2011, will fill in for one
of the leads. "It’s very unusual that they’re all at the table at the same time now," says Jean.
"People’s schedules got busier, people actually moved out of Los Angeles. It’s the normal sort of
entropy of life, you know."

Despite being to hundreds of table reads, Al Jean still can’t get comfortable. He describes a critical
setting in which the script is judged on its creative value, but also under the duress of external
forces. A cell phone might go off or an actor might be fighting a cold, and the read's vibe shifts.
"Last week," says Jean, "there was a truck backing up, that came in the middle, and that was
distracting people. The table read is my number one unpleasant experience."

Voice recording

"[THE ROLE IS AKIN TO A TV DIRECTOR] EXCEPT OUR DIRECTOR HAS TO CREATE EVERYTHING."

On the Monday following a table read, the cast performs the voice recording, typically at the
studio in LA. The actors and actresses record on separate tracks, rather than together — a
common method for capturing voice-over. "It’s funny," says Jean. "I read a review in The AV
Club where they said about a certain show there was great interaction between two people, and
they never met. They didn’t record in the same place. I’m glad it worked, but there was no physical
connection."

Direction

As work transitions from script to animation, the episode is offered to a director, who, if they
accept, is given ownership of production and animation responsibilities. "[The role is] sort of akin
to a TV director who takes the script of a show and turns it into an episode," says Jean. "Except our
director has to create everything. [... The director] takes the audio track, supervises the design, the
motions, and what we call the acting of the animation, and [supervises] the whole visual aspect of
[the episode]."

Both Jean, who serves as story liaison throughout production of the series as a whole, and each
episode’s director work in tandem to shepherd the script through the animation process.

(The Simpsons storyboard)

Storyboard

According to veteran Simpsons storyboard artist Luis Escobar, the animation phase of a new

season will begin between February and April, depending on the status of scripts and other
production variables. Some animators have a hiatus between seasons; others periodically
transition directly from one season to the next.

An episode’s animation begins with storyboarding, a process that contains multiple steps, and
ultimately produces the materials a South Korean animation studio named Akom will use to
complete the episode.

"[THE STORYBOARD] IS JUST A BLUEPRINT OF THE EPISODE."

"Our job," says Escobar, "is to do all the thinking, planning, and [design] of the show. This is what
it's going to eventually look like. That’s what a storyboard is: just a blueprint of the episode."

An episode is assigned to a small group of initial storyboard artists at The Simpsons'  work space in
Southern California. According to an extensive series of posts on Escobar’s blog about the
animation of the show, the board is reviewed, revised, and then sent to Fox for another round of
notes. Alongside the storyboard, an additional squad of designers is assigned props, characters,
and backgrounds unique to the episode, all of which undergo a similar series of internal and
external drafts and reviews.

In early seasons, storyboarding was done entirely on paper. In mid-season, the show switched to
animatics — a series of images paired with the voice track — that would be edited on tapes.
Relatively recently, storyboards transitioned to digital, in which all of the art and audio is uploaded
to an online hub accessible anywhere from computers and smart devices.

Jean says he can now edit audio from his phone instead of visiting an editing bay, and video effects
can be made with a few digital tweaks, instead of requiring portions of the board to be entirely
redrawn.

(The Simpsons storyboard)

Story reel

Update:  The story reel role was recently removed from  The Simpsons  production process. Today,
story reel and storyboard processes are combined, leading directly to storyboard revisions. What
follows is a step that formerly existed within the creative process.

The storyboard — revised from Fox’s notes and accompanied by the voice track — is screened to
story reel artists, who are each assigned a portion of the episode. The work of the story reel
artists, a mix of character and background animators, can range from polish to triage, depending
on the storyboard's quality upon arrival. As Escobar explains, the reel artists add additional
characters' poses, clean backgrounds, and incorporate notes from the director, who at this stage is
refining the composition of the shots.

As work is completed, the artists once again upload to a server, and the editor inserts the fleshed-
out segments in place of their respective portions of the storyboard until the entire storyboard is
replaced with a completed story reel.

The two phases sound quite similar, but they serve different functions. Where the storyboard is
somewhere between a picture book and the flip book, the story reel visualization ideally plays like
a barebones, black-and-white version of the actual episode.

"OH NO! HOMER NEEDS TO BE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM."

Once the reel is ready, shareholders — Al Jean and the producers, writers, and episode director —
meet at Fox for a screening. "It’s an interesting situation," writes Escobar, "because everyone in
the room potentially knows all the jokes and how they should play out."

Shareholders take notes, discuss what works and doesn’t, then pitch additions or changes they’d
like made. After a short break, the team reconvenes and watches the episode again, this time
stopping and starting the reel to discuss how those changes will be incorporated, sketch rough
stills of what the changes should look like, and nail down any other tweaks to be made by the
storyboard revisionist.

Storyboard revisions

Storyboard revisionists get roughly two weeks to revise or outright create new scenes, following
notes from the previous screening. Because hundreds of hours of animation and design have
already gone into the storyboard, revisionists try to salvage parts from scenes that have been cut
by repurposing them within the revisions.

The revisionist must also make sure the changes flow with the rest of the story reel. On his blog,
Escobar provides an example:

"Oh no! Homer needs to be on the other side of the room by the end of the sequence, but he no
longer has that line that made him walk over there to begin with! How in blazes is he suppose to
get to the other side to deliver his joke? CUT to a quick reaction shot of Bart or Marge. CUT back to
Homer who is magically in the other side of the room. He must of walked over there while he was
off screen. Problem solved."
(Fox)

Layout

According to Escobar, few American animated shows still do the layout process, let alone do so in
house.

Layout, he says, is the closest phase to what the layperson imagines animation to be — that classic
image of a Disney cartoonist fanning paper back and forth, sketching characters into motion.
At The Simpsons, layout is a digitized version of that method. Each animator — divided into
character and background artists — uses Pencil Check Pro to animate roughly 15 scenes for an
episode, making as accurate a depiction of the final product as possible. While storyboards are
rough, layout is refined.

THE LAYOUT ARTIST IS, AT ONCE, PERFORMER AND CAMERAPERSON

Characters are drawn to match a model sheet (above) — a guide of established poses and
expressions for the show’s characters. Whenever Homer shouts with joy, the style sheet explains,
his mouth opens in just this way.

Arguably the most important function of the layout artist is imbuing the static storyboard images
with performance. When Homer cracks a beer, Lisa plays the saxophone, or Sideshow Bob steps
on a rake, the layout artist decides precisely how that will look. In some capacity, they double as
actors, using the storyboard and voiceover as direction, then emoting through the residents of
Springfield as they feel fit.

The acting, the poses, the backgrounds, props, emotions — everything the story layout artists
draw will be directly incorporated in the final "clean line" version of the episode animated by the
studio in South Korea.
Along with performance, layout is when shots are framed, as they would be with a camera in the
real world, exactly as they will appear in the finished episode.

Story layout is the longest and most detailed step, and can take anywhere from a month to a
month and a half, depending on the complexity of the episode and whether or not other episodes
are in production. "[It’s where the director has] the most control over what happens," says
Escobar. "[As a storyboard artist,] I hear the words ‘I’ll take care of it in layout’ a lot from
directors."

(The Simpsons exposure sheet)

The timer

As soon as a character layout artist finishes a scene, they deliver to the timer. A timer’s role is to
write exposure sheets, the notes for Akom on how to interpret and apply the work of the story
layout artist. If the layout artist's work is the wood for your new bookshelf, the exposure sheet is
the instruction booklet. And like any furniture instructions, it's indecipherable to everyone but the
experts.

HHH-OOH-OHM-ME-ER-SI-IM-PS-SUH-HNN

The role is called "timer," because in the past, the timer broke down all dialogue and animation,
assigning tiny pieces to specific frames — or times — of the episode. Each line on the exposure
sheet represents a frame or group of frames of film. To the right of each frame number, the timer
writes what needs to be animated and how.
The Simpsons is animated at 24 frames per second — every second, 24 images appear on the
screen — which is to say thousands of drawings can compose a single scene. To break down all of
those drawings, the timer writes dialogue phonetically, and the established mouth shapes that
match each sound, onto the exposure sheet. For example, Homer saying his own name would look
something like Hhh-ooh-ohm-me-er-Si-im-ps-suh-hnn, each sound running down the page
alongside their assigned frame numbers.

The timer would also include references to Homer’s character model sheet, and any specific
accents or flourishes that needed to be made to his face or body. And the timers, of which there
are two on The Simpsons'  team, do this for every character in every scene.

(For those fascinated by the most unusual and overlooked position, former  Simpsons  director
Chuck Sheetz created a tutorial on how to write classic exposure sheet, which should help you
picture the timing in action.)

Escobar says that with the move to digital, character layout artists often "rough time" their scenes
by creating a digital animatic, using the frames they've drawn to produce a very rough animation
of a scene. The timer takes that animatic and documents the visuals onto the exposure sheet,
adding any touches the animatic doesn’t include. Eye blinks, finger twiddles, fidgeting — there’s
no detail too small for the timer to add to the exposure sheet, ensuring the team in LA maximum
control over what the South Korean animation studio delivers.

Scene planning

If a scene is particularly complicated, it’s sent to Scene Planning, an internal team formed
after The Simpsons Movie, that digitally animates elaborate scenes. The really flashy, fast-moving,
large-scale scenes that feature a bevy of characters: they usually go through here.
Print

"There’s a specific position held by a production guy called Peter Gave," says Escobar. "His job is to
take all of the digital character layout scenes, along with the timing and everything [else], and he
prints them out on paper and those are shipped to [South] Korea." Escobar laughs. "When we do
character layouts, [even though its art is digital] we are restricted to the field sizes of actual
paper."

"THEY'RE MAKING SURE THERE AREN'T ANY MISTAKES."

Checkers

Two checkers review everything — all of the character layout artwork, the exposure sheet, and the
printed materials — and they make sure that every piece of art and line of direction matches on
the exposure sheet.

"They’re basically the spell checkers," says Escobar. "They’re checking the grammar [of the
animation]. They’re making sure that there aren’t any mistakes." If they find an inconsistency or a
missing portion for artwork, they return to the director and get the error fixed.

Once every portion of the episode is checked and approved, it’s shipped to South Korea.

(Fox)

Akom

The role of Akom, a South Korean animation studio located west of Seoul, is to animate all of the
frames between the drawings in the final reel delivered by the layout artists. Say the layout artists
animated 20 frames for a 3-second scene. At 24 frames per second, the sequence is 72 frames
long. The animation studio would need to do a clean line version of the original 20 frames and the
52 frames of animation between them. The process is called overseas export market work; Akom
is one of many OEM studios in its nation.

According to a 2005 report by  China Daily, Akom has handled the more or less final and
unquestionably significant phase of animation on The Simpsons  for nearly 25 years. At the time
of China Daily’s report, roughly 120 animators and technicians translated the storyboard and
layouts into the completed rough edit of an episode, a process that takes about three months,
depending on the episode’s complexity and position within the season. The report cites OEM
animators making a third of US counterparts, though it's unclear how pay has changed over the
past decade.

AKOM HAS HELPED ANIMATE THE SIMPSONSFOR NEARLY 25 YEARS

Despite Akom's position in the animation wing of the show, Escobar couldn’t really speak to any
other details about the work done at the animation studio. Escobar compared the aforementioned
layout process in Los Angeles to the male animators of Disney’s golden era, but a paragraph in
the China Daily  report echoes Disney’s former band of women inkers and painters that put the
finishing touches on the studio’s classics: "On one floor, a staff of mostly young women sit at
computers as they scan animation cells, add colours and put the final technical touches to the
show." Akom is the magic; the all-but-invisible twist that brings everything together.

Final review, retakes, and final edit

Akom ships a completed, full color version of the episode from South Korea back to the studio in
Los Angeles, where it’s edited, then shown to the shareholders, who once again give notes for
revisions. With the show approaching air date, this is where a few topical jokes are sometimes
added.

If there’s time, the notes are handled by Akom. If there isn’t time, the revisions are handled by the
retakes division, a skeleton crew of two or three artists who can perform all functions of the
animation process: storyboards, character layout, clean up, animation, and final timing.

"It gets really hectic," says Escobar, "because [retakes division has] to deal with the actual air
dates. There have been situations or circumstances where the retakes finish the day or the night
before [an episode] airs, that sort of thing where they’re like at work, actually cleaning the stuff up
and coloring it."

Finally, an editor works with Al Jean to incorporate the retakes into the episode, does a final pass
on the show’s colors, music is added — a process so substantive and distinct, it warrants an
explainer unto its own — sound is mixed, the episode is wrapped, and it's sent to Fox where the
new episodes air on Sunday nights.

The process doesn't so much start again, as it continues. As the production ramps, multiple
episodes are in development at once, with every step of the process constantly overlapping. You
understand why the writers — and everyone else involved — would need a retreat.
(Fox)

Looking back

When does Al Jean know an episode will make it safely through the process?

"Usually at the mix," he says, "when everything’s all set. That’s pretty pleasant. The thing is,
there’s always the potential that things are not coming together the way you expected. They can
fall apart at the first audio assembly. They can fall apart at the animatic. They can fall apart in the
color screening. You’re never really off the hook."

"The first episode ever done," Jean says, "was by someone who didn’t quite get the show. It
needed a lot of rework. It was held back 'til maybe the last episode of the first season. It’s pretty
well known it was very disappointing to everybody. Fortunately the second episode, 'Bart the
Genius,' directed by David Silverman, was very good. The show was originally going to debut in the
fall of ‘89, but because the first [episode] didn’t work, we decided to wait 'til Christmas so the
episode directed by Silverman could be the first [airing in January, a little under a month after The
Simpsons’ Christmas special, 'Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire'].

We never, other than that, have taken a color and not aired it. We’ve done heavy rewrites
sometimes at colors. We’ve never even thrown a script out after a [table] read. Maybe a couple of
times we should’ve, but we never have."

Update October 28th, 1:00AM ET:  Originally the acronym OEM was described as "original
equipment manufacturing" based on reporting from  China Daily. It has since been corrected to
"overseas export market."