“BARNEY” is the perfect example of a kids’ show that no self-respecting parent could enjoy. We tolerate the purple one – and his gaggle of obnoxious hangers-on, children only a parent could love – because our children love him and his message of tolerance has no corrupting influence.
And we know that sooner or later, all kids outgrow Barney like an old smelly blankie.
It’s always been the purpose of this column to ferret out family viewing, shows that parents and kids can not only watch together but also enjoy together. In a brush with a cameraman recently, I discovered that for the past decade he and his family have been watching “The Simpsons” together.
He’s grown up; Bart has stayed, blessedly, impossibly, the same.
Of course, the Simpsons can teach your little spuds some bad manners if they can’t distinguish the good role models (Lisa) from the bad (Bart) and you’re laughing too hard to stop and explain the difference.
Now, I’ve found a new show that offers the perfect example of the television as hearth, a warm place around which the family can gather and laugh together. And that show is “Sheep in the Big City.”
The Cartoon Network premieres “Sheep in the Big City” next Friday night at 9:30 pm., a little late for my tastes, but perfectly allowable for those with 10-year-olds.
The animated half-hour is about, yes, a sheep in the city. The sheep’s name is Sheep.
From there, things start to get very strange in a very good way.
You see, a secret cabal of military zealots, led by General Specific (voice of Kevin Seal who also, diabolically, doubles for the bleats of Sheep) and his flunky Private Public (James Godwin) are trying to capture Sheep and separate him from his farm and the neurotic Farmer John (also Godwin).
Why does the military need a sheep – and not just any sheep but this one in particular? That’s a question for the mad scientist (series creator Mo Willems), who insists he’s merely angry, although he’s carted to and from his laboratory Dr. Hannibal Lecter-style strapped to a dolly.
It’s no coincidence that the woolly hero loves “Silence of the Lambs,” and this becomes a comic motif.
The mad scientist has created the ultimate sheep-powered weapon. There’s only one problem. It’s powered by one sheep in particular – and that sheep is Sheep. This fact sends Sheep on the lam.
The mammal ends up in the city. He discovers once he’s gained an impossibly fabulous apartment and a job as a telemarketer, that, like many transplanted New Yorkers, he just can’t go back to the farm. (Ask Hillary.)
One of my favorite recurring bits is the psychoanalytically inclined farmer. He holds group therapy sessions for his flock where the sheep all fail the leadership test. He follows Sheep to the metropolis in part to seek “closure.”
Kids won’t get the closure gag, but it doesn’t matter. The clever satire, the endless puns and the unsophisticated animation recalls “The Bullwinkle Show,” which was always intended to entertain adults as well as children.
“Sheep in the City” will appeal to kids and the kid in all of us who never met a pun that was too painful.