The 5 Most Underrated Simpsons Characters

By Yankee Pot Roast

Recently, we noticed that our old friends from Yankee Pot Roast had written a book called Underrated: The Yankee Pot Roast Book of Awesome Underappreciated Stuff. At first we assumed that they'd misspelled overrated, and that their book making fun of lame stuff had an insanely ironic title. But as we got deeper into the book (or rather as our interns read more of it to us while we lifted weights), it became increasingly clear that they had gone and done something totally and utterly insane. They were writing about things they ... liked. In a daring move that will probably break the internet (which is overrated anyways) we decided to let them try it on our website. Behold, for maybe the first time on the internet: nice things being said about stuff.

If you're thinking Comic Book Guy or Moe are underrated, you're obviously not a Simpsons fan. Wacky supporting characters of that sort are cult-classics, universally recognized and beloved. They're rated exactly where they should be. We're running down some of the truly underrated Springfieldians: those who remain underused and are still rife with potential for unexpected hilarity.

#5.

Gil Gunderson

Aw, c'mon, do it for ol' Gil! Essentially a parody of Jack Lemmon's desperate, beleaguered real-estate agent from Glengarry Glen Ross, poor old Gil is the ultimate sad sack: A salesman whose only asset is his expired charm. The poor guy's an inch away from losing his job, wife, house (that is, his shitty job, cheating wife, and whatever roof he currently calls home). All he needs is one more sale--just one sale, please, pretty please?--but he is completely unable to seal the deal. He practically sweats desperation.

Gil is great because he makes you feel good about yourself. No matter how miserable your life, at least you're not that guy. Like many of The Simpsons' finest characters, Gil fills a niche you didn't even know was empty till he appeared. He's like a grownup version of the Squeaky-Voiced Teen in that he pops up any and everywhere, never holding the same crappy job twice. He sells shoes, used cars, doorbells, even Coleco computers ("Now, let's talk rust-proofing. These Colecos'll rust up on ya' like that, er ... shut up, Gil. Close the deal ... close the deal!").

Gil is best when used sparingly; the perfect one-joke cameo. Pop up, make us laugh, disappear. Of course they gave him a starring episode--even Crazy Old Cat Lady is due her leading role--where he moved in with the Simpsons (and who hasn't yet stayed at that house?), but we like Gil best when he's tried to sell us something obsolete, failed, and limped away, dejected but eternally optimistic he'll nab the next one.

#4.

Arnie Pye

If you're saying "Who??," Arnie Pye in the Sky is Springfield's traffic-copter newsman with the perfect closed-nose news voice. ("Look out at the corner of 12th and Main because I'm going to be sick!") Arnie is hilarious as a second-rate reporter with an inferiority complex and a chip on his shoulder; he's jealous of Kent Brockman and so desperately wants his job. (In fact, Arnie once got to take over the anchor's desk, whereupon he instantly dropped the nasally newscaster voice and adopted the smooth tones of trustworthiness.)

Arnie Pye's best moment (fleeting as it was) was an early sign of the budding rivalry. Flying above Homer's disaster with a van full of kids, Kent asks him "How are the children, Arnie?" to which he snaps "I can't see through METAL, Kent!"--yes, it loses something on paper, but old Arnie Pye spits it out with such venom, such acidic hatred, you get years of professional and personal contention in those seven syllables. Kudos to Dan Castellaneta's greatest vocal performance. We want more Arnie Pye in the Sky and we want him now.

#3.

Lou the Policeman

Springfield can be a dangerous place to live. Between the two-bit criminals (Snake), organized crime (Fat Tony) and the random shysters that swing through (monorail guy?), there's a veritable Rogue's Gallery of Villains inhabiting the town at any given time. And that doesn't even include some of the normal citizens who seem to regularly commit felonies, like Homer, Moe and Mr. Burns.

Keeping the order and protecting the town is a woefully understaffed and ineffective Springfield Police Department. They're essentially a three man show: Chief Clancy Wiggum, the rotund blunderbuss with extremely poor marksmanship and a talent for making clever, on-the-spot puns; Eddie, the white patrolman who barely utters a word, presumably there to make the Springfield Police Department look slightly more robust from a personnel standpoint and an underdeveloped recurring character if there ever was one.

And then there's Lou: rock steady, the man that keeps the whole thing going. He's fully aware of Wiggum's incompetence and is constantly angling for his job, going so far as to write letters to the editor of the Springfield Shopper (under the pen name "Worried in West Springfield") calling for the chief's resignation. Lou has no reservations about making fun of the chief to his face either, insulting his poor deductive skills and making fun of his ill-fitting pants.

#2.

Luigi Risotto

He's the chef that looks like he jumped off the pizza box, constantly belittling his staff and conversationally berating his customers, doing it all with a misleading smile and sing-songy Italian accent. Being an asshole isn't confined to his restaurant, either: when Marge entered a cooking contest with her "dessert dogs," Luigi sabotaged her oven with "how do you say, malice of forethought." He's a complete jerk, but he comes off as lovable because he sounds happy and he's kind of roly-poly.

He pops up in episodes here and there. During the Springfield Mayoral recall election, Luigi threw his hat in the ring, promising to "make you the good government, just how you like it." Luigi's character works because he's used often enough that you know who he is, but sparingly enough that his "Italian chef as Italian stereotype" act and his being a total dick don't get stale.

But in the end, there's only one thing to know about Luigi: his English isn't bad because Italian is his first language. He doesn't even speak Italian. Luigi's first language is "how do you say, fractured English. It's what [his] parents spoke at home."

#1.

Lisa Simpson

Bart and Homer are the crowd-pleasers, no arguing that: their misadventures dominate the show, and their faces hog the merchandise. But it's Lisa, the second-grader reading at a 14th-grade level, who is the heart and soul of both the family and show.

We love Lisa because she yearns for something greater. She wants to better herself, her family, her town. Sure, she's a nerd--who among Simpsons fans isn't? And without this little overachieving genius and hopeless do-gooder saving the day (on a weekly freaking basis!), our favorite family would've been killed a dozen different ways, the town of Springfield would've been destroyed, the very earth itself lost.

Let's hear it for Lisa! Nobody's favorite character, but the most UNDERRATED SPRINGFIELDIAN OF THEM ALL.

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The Day the Earth Stood Still Remake Is Pure Sucky Evil

For years I got blank stares when I told people that The Day the Earth Stood Still was my favorite movie. "It's this black-and-white science-fiction film from the 1950s," I'd say, and when they just gazed back at me, I'd finish with "look, just watch it, okay?" Little did I know that something far more sinister was in my future — now when I talk about The Day the Earth Stood Still, people will think I'm lauding the performance of one Keanu Reeves. The very thought makes me want to hurl the contents of my stomach all over my keyboard.

There is no reason to remake something that is absolutely perfect. A big reason for that is that there are hundreds of thousands of unproduced screenplays which will never see the light of Harvey Weinstein's desk, and there's a good chance that a couple thousand of those screenplays are actually brilliant. But there's another reason nobody should ever remake a movie as wonderful as 1951's The Day the Earth Stood Still, and that's because it is an affront to everything good about humanity.

Remakes insinuate that there was something deficient about the original movie, that it's somehow necessary to update the film for today's audiences. The vast majority of the cinema-going crowd will watch the version with the actors they know in an instant, and never bother to rent the first one. I'm no exception: I've never seen the 1960 Ocean's Eleven, 1969's The Italian Job, or even every episode of the British The Office. In those cases, that's probably okay — heist flicks work better with shinier cars and newer cameras, and the American workplace has its own set of unique frustrations and comedic opportunities.

The Day the Earth Stood Still, however, is still painfully relevant in every way. Julian Blaustein, its producer, read over 200 short stories in the science fiction literature of the day; his selection of Harry Bates's "Farewell to the Master," and screenwriter Edmund H. North's adaptation, doesn't miss a beat. We're still fighting all the time — the petty squabbles of our nation's leaders still prevent us from reaching any kind of agreement that would, say, stop genocide in Darfur, for example. A culture of fear and greed persists, especially in Bush's America, making it entirely plausible that an alien landing in D.C. would be subject to imprisonment, thievery, and — oh, yeah — hasty gunshots. We might be afraid of terrorists now instead of communists, but we still haven't managed to end nuclear proliferation and create lasting worldwide peace. I think there's still quite a lot to The Day the Earth Stood Still's message that we might pose a threat to the rest of the universe if we can't get a grip on our violent tendencies; and I think Klaatu's non-destructive way of shocking humanity into action is even more brilliant today.

Sometimes the reason to remake something is that the idea is still golden, but the execution of it was limited by the times. Well, I really don't see anyone convincing me that that is the case here. The special effects did just what they needed to do; maybe Gort vaporizing military weapons wasn't as advanced as liquid metal crawling its way up Neo's body, but Gort's thing shot a chill through my spine much faster. The seamlessness of the spaceship, which was recreated with the painstaking application of putty for each shot, added such a fantastic thrill — that simple effect is more meaningful than a thousand flashy explosions.

The attention to detail reaches an admirable level that I almost never see in entertainment today; for example, Professor Barnhardt's chalkboard equations actually contain terms that are relevant to momentum conservation and dynamics, and Klaatu's explanation of his error makes total sense. Most filmmakers today would simply throw up a sine and a cosine and call it done.

The rest of the production was a cut above, too. Bernard Herrmann's amazing soundtrack marks some of the first use of electronic instruments in film, and those theremins have my ears ringing with sci-fi delight years after my first viewing. Even the cinematography was gorgeous; the use of shadow and light patterns created a delightful spooky mood to most scenes, and nobody can miss the visual hilarity of watching doctors chainsmoke while wondering how the hell aliens live so much longer than we do.

Michael Rennie's alien, by the way, is an example of a truly flawless and understated performance; anyone who thinks that Keanu Reeves can show that up should stop reading now to go smack their head against a wall a few times. I don't want to see any current child actor try to replace Bobby Benson; Billy Gray's adorable portrayal of The Most Fifties Boy Ever will warm my heart for all time.

I suppose the one complaint you could have for a 1951 film is about sexism and racism — except for the fact that there were certainly world leaders of all races in the final scene, and the character of Helen Benson is crucial to the plot. She's a bit of an annoying mother, perhaps, but she stands up to her way-more-annoying boyfriend to save the day — and the world. As far as diversity goes, there's only one non-white star in the 2008 cast, so I guess things haven't changed much.

The Day the Earth Stood Still is a treasure; it's one of the best films we humans have ever managed to produce. It was fabulous in 1951 and it's only matured with age, like the finest sci-fi-themed wine in all the world. The movie packs a huge amount of vision about human identity and aspirations — in fact, it's almost impossible to believe it was made eighteen years before we Earthlings reached the moon. So why in the name of everything beautiful would a person want to taint those waters with a totally unnecessary rehash?

Apparently this remake is happening because 2008 director Scott Derrickson admires the work of 1951 director Robert Wise. Hey, Scott, you know what would be a good way to pay your respects to Wise's work? Tell people to watch his movie, and then stay the fuck away from it.

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Who Wants To Watch Three Hours Of Watchmen?

It's already calling itself the movie adaptation of "the most celebrated graphic novel of all time," but if a certain group of masochistic fans have their way, "visionary director" Zack Snyder's version of Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' comic may also be the longest comic strip movie ever made - But is the general public ready for three hours of watching the Watchmen?

We've previously told you that Snyder is apparently fighting the studio over the length of his movie, but now a fan petition has appeared online attempting to help Snyder in his fight. The petition, entitled simply CAMPAIGN FOR 3 HOUR WATCHMEN MOVIE FROM WARNER BROS, exists to try and put pressure on Warner Bros. to release an almost full-length (Snyder has previously mentioned a full 210-minute cut of the movie) version of next summer's much-hyped masterpiece:

We, the ‘Minutemen’ below, respectfully demand a 3 hour running time for the forthcoming movie ‘Watchmen’ from Warner Bros. Directed by Zack Snyder (300, Dawn of the Dead), Watchmen is a film adaptation of what is widely regarded by comic fans as the greatest superhero story ever... As with any movie Warner Bros have a responsibility to make ‘Watchmen’ a commercial success and to appeal to a broad audience, many of whom will not be familiar with the story – and therein lies the issue. While discussions with WB studio executives are ongoing about the running time of the movie, there is pressure to ensure that it comes in at below 2hrs and 50 minutes.

We, the ‘Minutemen’ below, submit that Watchmen must be a 3 hour movie and ask WB to respect and extend the courtesy of this longer running time to the giant of all superhero stories.

That's right, people. The people behind the petition have already come up with their own fangroup identification, just like Trekkies, Browncoats and People-Who-Want-To-Have-Sex-With-Ewoks (Admittedly, that last one isn't very catchy). But that's not all they've come up with; they've also worked on reasons why this film shouldn't be edited down to a reasonable length:

1. The Watchmen experience isn’t just about big events and characters in the story, it’s also about small things, the ‘minutiae’. Minor characters and their dramas are part of the meticulously constructed whole - removing any one piece of Watchmen means losing part of its essence

2. Some tough choices have already been made and elements of the story have had to be left out. Previous draft screenplays from David Hayter and Alex Tse have shown the difficulties in making such decisions. Cutting down the movie further will only dilute Watchmen and its potential value as a unique experience for cinema audiences in 2009

3. Watchmen is a landmark work in the graphic medium which is venerated by comic fans and respected by the literary establishment. No other comic book series has ever been accorded such status, for this reason it should be treated with the level of respect any great epic literary work is afforded, not like the average superhero movie. A longer running time of 3 hours, which allows the story to breathe, will tease out what makes Watchmen truly great and different to any other superhero movie released so far.

4. There is only one opportunity for Warner Bros and Zack to get this right. There will be no sequel to Watchmen - it is a stand alone work. Cutting down the running time because of conventional views about audiences having short attention spans could be disastrous. No one wants a Watchmen movie that is rushed, incoherent and ultimately forgettable. Recent years have shown there is great appetite among the cinema-going public for dark, epic heroic stories which are LONG (Lord of the Rings, the Dark Knight, King Kong, etc.) and of great quality.

5. Zack Snyder and WB are waiting to hear how much we want a 3 hour movie. In an interview with MTV on 12 August 2008 Snyder stated that he is interested to see how much online support there is for a 3 hour running time (source: http://www.mtv.com/movies/news... “Right now it runs at around two hours and 50 minutes”, He stated, ”I just don't want to lose any story line, because you know eventually that's what happens. You start to have to cut characters out, and I just don't want to do that”.

It's an interesting series of arguments, especially because... well, they don't really stand up to that much attention. For example, don't the first and second points contradict each other? "You can't cut something out of Watchmen without destroying the whole thing, and they've already cut a lot out've Watchmen." Doesn't that mean that they've already undercut the integrity of the story, and the entire argument is pointless?

Leaving aside the third and fifth points as pretty much useless (The third being "It's an important book, so don't cut anything out," which seems to miss the point that almost all - if not all - adaptations of famous works of literature have had swathes of material cut from them when adapted into movies, and the fifth point being less an argument for not cutting the movie as a random statement), that seems to leave the fourth point as the crux of their argument... which is somewhat unfortunate, in that it's blatantly untrue. "There is only one opportunity for Warner Bros and Zack to get this right"? Which opportunity are they referring to? The theater release of the movie? The DVD release, that was already planned to be longer? The inevitable "Director's Cut" DVD that would follow that one, if the original DVD was successful enough? These days, it's not as if there's only "one" version of any movie anymore, so the idea that there's only one opportunity for any movie to "get it right" is ridiculous. And what does getting it right actually mean, anyway? Making the best movie you can? Being slavishly devoted to the source material, even if it means the movie is overlong? If you're going to demand that something be done "right," it's worth trying to come to some kind of agreed definition of "right" beforehand.

I'm tempted to start another petition about the Watchmen movie. I could call it something like CAMPAIGN FOR A GOOD WATCHMEN MOVIE FROM WARNER BROS, and the body of the text would go something like this:

We, the people who sign this petition below, would like to ask that Watchmen is whatever length it needs to be to make sense and be successful as a movie as opposed to a piece of fan service. Ideally, we'd like that to be less than three hours because, come on, three hours for a movie? That wasn't any fun for any of the Lord Of The Rings movies, and at least they didn't feature radioactive glowing blue men showing off their man junk. Most people don't really like long movies; look at Robert Downey Jr.'s reaction to The Dark Knight. Do you really want to make a movie that'll confuse Robert Downey Jr. even more than The Dark Knight?

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