‘South Park’ Breakdown: ‘Let Go, Let Gov’

(SPOILERS AHEAD, so proceed with caution, South Park fans!)

Season 17, Episode One: “Let Go, Let Gov”

Written and Directed by: Trey Parker

South Park is back. Yes, the king of all tasteless animated comedies has returned for a shortened 10-episode season, and writer-director Trey Parker has wasted little time in tackling some of the year’s biggest satirical targets: the NSA, Twitter, and (of course) resident celebrity know-it-all Alec Baldwin.

“Let Go, Let Gov” is an ambitious episode — probably too ambitious. Its central conceit (Cartman infiltrating the NSA to expose its evil civilian monitoring secrets via a Baldwin-pimped Twitter knock-off called Shitter) is brilliant on paper. But its execution felt rushed, predictable, and somewhat unsatisfying, leaving the bulk of the laughs to the B-plot: Butters’ religious awakening at the DMV. Not an entirely memorable episode, but a solid warm-up for a shortened (and hopefully more concentrated) season 17.

Quick Breakdown

After a snazzy new intro, we cut to the bus stop, where Kyle complains about a “stupid bitch” who always shares every detail of their lives on speakerphone. Unsurprisingly, that idiot is Cartman, who approaches the group and starts ranting about his distrust of the government.

“Kyle is a total boner,” Cartman says, before telling his friend that — indeed — he knows about the government evil after having watched the “puppet show version” of 1984. Of course, when Kyle attempts to mute Cartman’s over-sharing, the latter immediately jumps to the conclusion that Kyle must be a secret NSA agent. Butters, always the resident dimwit, is perplexed, assuming that if the government “watches everything we do” that they must be an omnipotent, God-like being.

This set-up (much like the rest of the episode) felt a tad rushed, but it’s still a sharp premise in itself: Butters is playing the role of the Conservative Idiot, the overly trusting simpleton who thinks the government must very well have a good reason for spying on its citizens; Cartman, meanwhile, is playing the role of Liberal Idiot, the overly suspicious simpleton who can’t see what good might come from the government monitoring his e-mails and tweets.

So Cartman hatches his plot: to infiltrate the NSA by slapping on a fake mustache and applying for a job (with the name Bill Clinton). The NSA, over their heads with so much monitoring to do, immediately accept this eager young buck and put him behind a desk.

Then…well, not much happens. The initial set-up is brilliant in itself, but once Cartman actually reaches his destination, the episode hits a brick wall. Trying to gain intel about his own safety, “Bill Clinton” inquires about the threat status of “Eric Cartman,” whom the NSA have deemed “fat and unimportant.” Infuriated, Cartman demands that he should be monitored, and the NSA reveal their secret monitoring weapon: Santa Clause hooked up to a computer. It’s a really weak joke (Santa Clause checks to see who’s naughty and nice — get it?), especially by South Park standards, as is the forced bit about the NSA monitoring a guy who tweets about his awesome new fitness center.

Luckily, the rest of the episode is much sharper in its satire, even if the targets aren’t as controversial. Simply hearing the word “Shitter” brought a shameless smile to my face, and the concept behind the Twitter knock-off (subverting the NSA’s tweet-spying by sending your thoughts directly to an inter-connected virtual mind-space) is a brilliant reflection on the absurdity of over-sharing. Alec Baldwin’s disgusting “sheets” (Sample: “I had sex with the Queen of Monaco; I had my entire first up her ass”) brought some much-needed vile to a fairly tame episode, laugh-wise.

Meanwhile, the Butters B-plot (or at least its early exposition) offered a more intricate take on the subject matter. Confusing his acronyms, Butters heads to the DMV (instead of the NSA), where he confesses all of his unclean thoughts to an unsuspecting employee. “I yelled at a midget,” he says, while also noting that he simulated sex with a magazine cut-out of Jennifer Lawrence’s mouth. His penance? Singing “Livin’ In America” 1,000 times.

Of course, Cartman and Butters have always represented opposite extremes of gullibility, and Butters’ antics (as they were in this episode) are often funnier and less contrived. After hearing a pitch from a pair of Jehovah’s Witnesses (and seeing their blasphemous pamphlet of a girl burning in hell), Butters redirects them to the DMV, where they can come clean to the government and live a pure life. “Your government is watching you,” he says, “And your government wants you to be happy.”

The eventual pay-off isn’t that revelatory: Butters transforms into a preacher for the Church of DMV, leading services as confused employees sit on the sidelines. Cartman, disillusioned and ready flee to Communist Russia (one of many Ed Snowden nods) is recruited by evangelist Butters, who begs his friend to “let the government into (his) heart.”

Ultimately, though, the revolution dissipates when the DMV is caught up in a sex scandal with young boys. (Get it? Just like the Catholic Church!)

Rating

B-

The brilliance of South Park is its refusal to point fingers in only one direction, but the satire here is less focused than normal. (Is the Church being emphasized as a much-needed safe-haven in our age of paranoia? Or is it just as corrupt?) This show doesn’t have to be deep, as long as it’s funny. And “Let Go, Let Gov” wasn’t quite enough of either.

Now for some random thoughts and my favorite moments of the night…

Cartman’s voice sounded a bit weird — too scratchy?

“Just finished my Shitter commercial. Time to go find a pussy sandwich.” — Alec Baldwin

Cartman’s fake mustache looks like a scared open mouth.

Officer Barbrady at the DMV confessing that he “masturbated to Game of Thrones.”