S1, E16: "Olga Comes Home" / "Sally's Comet"

New year, new review! I hope no one got too drunk during the revelries that is New Year's Eve. Times Square in New York City seems to be the #1 hotspot for tourists looking to gather in unnaturally large crowds and watch a ball descend from a stick. It's certainly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I get the appeal, but I hate large crowds, and would much rather watch the ball drop from the comfort of my own living room.



"Olga Comes Home"

Ms. Slovak gets a letter from Helga's sister, Olga, a former student of hers, and announces this to the class. Damn, did everyone have Ms. Slovak as their 4th grade teacher? Arnold and his class, Vincent "Pigeon Man," and now Olga? Is she the only 4th grade teacher in the entire city?

Anyway, Helga becomes disgruntled:

Yeah, let's just get right to the point. Helga can't stand Olga for reasons we will discover this episode. Although Olga is only a secondary character throughout the series, she is a very significant force in Helga's life.

Olga was a former nerd and overachiever--way overachiever--who even has her own collection of trophies in the classroom for the rest of the class to stare at with envy and snootiness in their candy and chocolate milk-filled bellies. Hot damn, it's bad enough that Big Bob has an entire room filled with trophies and awards from Olga what kind of teacher does this?

I didn't know the Miss America pageants extended to elementary schools.

I wonder if everyone falls to their knees moaning "We're not worthy!" every time Olga returns to Hillwood. Well, we will find that out because she is returning home for spring break! So, at the request of Ms. Slovak, not only does Helga have to talk indefinitely about how insignificant everyone is compared to the almighty Olga, Olga just might come to the school to do it again. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if she did.

Helga's parents make a 180 from their usual depressed and angry states when Olga rings the doorbell and greets her parents. They smile, hug, and kiss her when she walks in the door, complimenting her and flooding her with all the love and support parents could give. Clearly, Olga is the favorite n the Pataki clan, but you didn't really need me to tell you that, did you?

On a completely unrelated note, I was curious about the origin of the name Pataki, so I looked it up. Turns out it's a Hungarian name. So are the names Helga and Olga. Very interesting piece of trivia.

So, Olga continues to show off to Bob and Miriam, and soon everyone forgets Helga even exists. Well, it was practically like that before Olga showed up, so there's no real difference, actually. Helga is naturally pissed... and maybe even a little jealous. She can't get away from Olga no matter where she goes. Heck, even when the mail comes, Helga can't get away from seeing her nam--hello, what's this?

That's it--Olga works for Area 51. The envelope says it's from "Wellington College," but that's obviously a cover-up for what really lies inside.

No, but wouldn't that be a fun surprise? Helga opens the envelope and discovers that it's Olga's grades from the previous semester. Damn, it took that long? Olga's on spring break--halfway through her spring semester, so I can only assume that these are the grades from her fall semester. Look, I know professors take an eternity and a half to post students' grades (of course, they have to work fast when sifting through literally hundreds of students), but jeez, you'd think for them to be mailed after this long, the professors were on spring break when they started grading.

Anyway, Helga decides to change one of Olga's grades to a B just to watch her fall from grace once in her life.

Over dinner, Olga reveals that she's fucking two different guys in two different fields of study. Strange, I wouldn't think of Olga as a cheater. That kind of makes me start to hate her.

Helga matter-of-factly hands Olga her (altered) grades, and Olga happily reads down the list all the "A"s she received. She giggles over the fact that she hasn't received anything lower than an A since the third grade, further building up the scene where her entire life will come crashing down right before her 20/20 vision eyes. I have to say, I absolutely love Helga's revenge face, what with the pea soup dribbling down her mouth.

If she was eating tomato soup instead, this would have made the scene so much better.

Upon reading the last class, Elizabethan Poetry, Olga's eyes glaze over the dreaded, awful, horrible, inhumane grade of...

B+

Holy ham in Hogwarts, what the hell was that?! You'd think with that reaction, Olga's two college fuck buddies just died in a graphic car accident. She abso-fucking-lutely loses it--excusing herself to her bedroom so she could cry over what an embarrassment to her family, to her college, and to humanity she is.

On a side note, Helga should be working for the CIA or something--for a nine-year-old to be able to change a grade and make it look so legit is not only impressive, but scary. I wonder what else Helga has been forging. Heh, maybe there's a reason Arnold was never able to figure out that the little pink book in episode 2 belonged to Helga.

Helga watches with a big, satisfying smile on her face at her sister's misery. And while I have to admit that Helga's behavior is rather sociopathic, I have to wonder just how much pressure Olga was put under for so many years to have a soap opera mental breakdown, complete with ironic Elizabethan-era classical music, over getting a passing, but not perfect, grade.

"So, I guess you're pretty depressed, huh?" - Helga

Olga's never coming out of her room, depressed beyond belief (though the use of the term depression here is really cheapening the real meaning of the word). Olga winces to Helga that she's never even received an A-, so to her, a B+ just might be the equivalent of being kicked out of college in her eyes. Damn, do I even want to know how Olga would react if, instead of a B+, she changed one of Olga's grades to an F? She'd likely stuff her pockets with stones and walk into a river.

Helga is so shameless, she doesn't even try to pretend to feel sorry for Olga. In fact, she spouts a bunch of remarks that make Olga feel worse. Damn, Helga. Hold back on the reigns.

In dismay, Bob and Miriam watch Olga crying and making a bigger deal than necessary. Look, I understand that Olga has always had perfect marks, always been the best out of the best, but has she ever considered that maybe the grade was a mistake? Nevermind the fact that she actually had received an A in Elizabethan Poetry, but if Olga was so shocked at receiving a B+, why didn't she contact her professor and double-check? She just accepts the B+ right away, as if she knew how "terribly" she did already. But the fact is that she knew she did well, and didn't expect a B+, so either Olga's batshit delusional, or she's got some deep-rooted issues in her self-esteem.

Bob comments that Olga can't just lay in bed all day and cry, to which Miriam replies, "Of course she can. I do." That's sad and concerning.

Helga chokes on some karma-mel covered Swiss chocolates while laughing at Olga's sweet, sweet misery.

Bob tries to win Olga's spirit back with gifts (including the Swiss chocolates), but to no avail. My God, this girl is not going to survive out in the real world if the only thing that keeps her alive is being the best of the best. That's the scary part. I bet Big Bob was pushing her into this since she was in diapers. I bet she was also pushed to be potty trained before she was even out of the womb.

At school, Arnold notices how happy Helga has been lately, to which Helga explains what gave her such joy. Upon learning about Helga forging Olga's grades, Arnold replies flatly that it was a mean thing to do, and then walks off disappointed in Helga. Not by too much, because he knows this is typical behavior of her. You'd think that, because Arnold thought that Helga's behavior was wrong, Helga would realize the error of her ways, but she just shrugs and walks away. Damn, could that possibly mean that she hates Olga more than she loves Arnold?!

Helga, repressing her obvious guilt later, asks her parents to hang out (including asking Miriam if they want to make "smoothies," which on this show means alcohol--oh dear lord). But Bob and Miriam are too worried about Olga to do anything but sit around and think. Hey, did no one think to call the professor and double-check this girl's grades?! Seems like Bob and Miriam have the same attitude towards Olga's perfection as she does. Perhaps because she puts so damn much emphasis on winning and being at the top, maybe, deep down, she actually is a failure. In other words, she's book smart, but not street smart. Not by a long shot.

For the second time, we're tricked into thinking Helga will do the right thing and reveal what she did. LOL--nope.

So then Helga lays down for a nap and has this bizarre Salvador Dali-inspired dream where Arnold, the angel of reason, comes to Helga and tells her to do the right thing.

Why is angel Arnold's hat floating?

So, that's exactly what Helga does. She turns off Olga's radio, turns on her lights, and tells her what she did.

You know, this show could have taken that very typical turn where Olga could get angry at Helga for making her so "depressed" and returns back to normal, but instead, Olga keeps her somber tone as she tells Helga that while what she did was wrong, she's not going to tell Bob and Miriam what she did.

This is actually a very well-written scene, and I'm so glad it was written this way. Instead of turning the blame on Helga for being "jealous," Olga puts the blame on Bob and Miriam for building her up as this "wind-up doll" who has to perform for them all the time, and that Helga is lucky that Bob and Miriam barely pay any attention to her. It's a humanizing moment, that, without seeing Olga's point of view, sympathy for her would have been nonexistent.

But there's also something that's not being talked about--Bob and Miriam didn't seem too upset about Olga receiving a B+. They were more concerned about her being depressed for receiving the B+. So, perhaps the fault doesn't solely lie in one court. Because if, alternatively, Bob and Miriam were pacing around the kitchen in distress that Olga was falling from grace, then Olga's speech about being a wind-up doll would have some validity towards it. Perhaps that's what Bob and Miriam have done in the past, but we don't see it now, so maybe Olga is giving herself too high expectations because it's what she's always been used to doing.

Whatever the case, Olga is much too fragile to survive in the real world.

Olga and Helga exchange warm smiles--a signal that their relationship is closer because of this moment, and Olga asks Helga to spend the day together tomorrow. Helga accepts.

"Sally's Comet"

The title is an obvious reference to Halley's Comet, which orbits around the sun, is visible to Earth every 75 years.

Gerald an Arnold are collecting box tops so they can send them in to receive a telescope in the mail. I don't know why they don't just buy it themselves--all the money they (or rather, their parents) are spending on cereal just to collect those box tops would certainly be enough to buy a real, better telescope at a gadget store, anyway. But hey, kid logic.

Arnold reminds Gerald that Sally's Comet will enter the Earth's atmosphere in two weeks, so they don't have much time. Time to call up your dentists, boys, because you're going to need to chow down on a lot of Sugar Chunks cereal to get that telescope. Hopefully you won't be in the middle of a root canal when it passes over Hillwood.

Gerald's like, "If we don't see the comet in two weeks, we'll catch it next time it comes around." And then his face drops when Arnold shows him a book that says it comes around once every 70 years. Like I said earlier--pour, chew, swallow, repeat.

I really want to know what the animators are thinking when they draw faces like these.

Arnold and Gerald can't do this alone, so they enlist as many people as they can find to eat, eat, eat!

"Eat cereal and get a telescope. This is quite a country." - Oskar Kokoshka

Helga, naturally, is the first one to get sick of eating so much cereal in one sitting, and actually makes a very valid point--why not just throw the cereal away and rip off the box tops? (Alternatively, just buy a fucking telescope with the money you spend on all the cereal!) But then Arnold replies, "We can't just throw food away when there are people in the world starving." Sure, but that logic is about as nonsensical as taking hour-long showers every day because some people in the world don't have access to clean water.

Honestly, though. If Arnold and Gerald need 50 box tops to get the telescope, and each box of cereal is roughly $3.00 (in 1996 money), $3.00 x 50 box tops comes out to about $150 in cereal. That's plenty enough to afford a decent telescope.

So, after Arnold and Gerald collect all the box tops, send them in, they receive their telescope in the mail.

That's one tiny telescope.

So, that night, the boys set up their telescope and holy hell, that giant thing came out of that Pringles can?! What kind of wizardry is this?

Once you pop (open 50 boxes of Sugar Chunks cereal), you just can't stop!

So, the telescope works fine and all, but the only problem is that they can't see the stars because of all the city's light pollution.

Grandpa then reminisces about his childhood, when he saw Sally's Comet as a youngin' with his father, back when Hillwood was barely a blip on the map. The year 1926, to be exact.

"Twenty-three skidoo! Isn't it magnificent? Phil, you're gonna remember this for the rest of your life." - Grandpa Phil's grandpa

Not only do the boys want to be able to see the comet for themselves, but they want Grandpa to be able to see Sally's Comet again too, and with that, they take to the streets in goofy costumes to hand out flyers asking people to turn off all their lights so they can see the comet.

But, like most modern Americans, no one gives a shit about the natural phenomenon, and don't want to sacrifice 10 minutes of their lives to shut off their lamps and look up into the sky. What a bunch of wet blankets.

So, the boys decide if they can't bring the darkness to the city, they'll have to go to the darkness themselves. They make a plan to go up to Hawk Mountain, an isolated mountain "no one" knows about to go see the comet there, but it turns out that was everyone's plan.

Sometimes this show is too real. 

Not only that, but Grandpa, Arnold, and Gerald hear on the radio that Hawk Mountain is filled to capacity and the huge influx of cars has closed down the roads. That certainly would piss a lot of people off! And then Grandpa makes an illegal U-turn and goes back home.

On that same radio, the DJ just so happens to mention that his station, Nocturnal Ned, is the most listened-to radio station in the city, so the boys get an idea to go to the radio station and make an announcement for people to shut off their lights to see the comet. I love how Grandpa just goes along with every little plan they have. Like, you want to tell people over the radio to turn off their lights? Sure. Want to go on a hike with Big Bob who knows nothing about navigating through the dirt? Go ahead. Off to shank a bitch with Frankie G. and his gang? Make sure to wash the blood off your hands before you come home.

How the hell were Arnold and Gerald able to just walk into this guy's studio? Were there no security guards whatsoever?

So the DJ heard about Arnold and Gerald coming up, so he's not surprised to see them there. What a talented guy, though. He has this nasally voice that he can throw when he speaks on the radio--from Nerdy Ned to Nadir-Vocals Ned--kind of reminds me of that viral video from years ago--Ted Williams--the man with the golden voice. Remember that?

Anyway, The DJ says it's against the rules for the boys to make an announcement over the air, and he can't do it because of protocol or some crap, and he may or may not have dropped his donut on purpose, giving Gerald the opportunity to "accidentally" hit the ON AIR button and tell everyone to shut their lights off at 8:16 that night. You know, just a speech he had "prepared." And then the boys leave, more confident that people will be more willing to shut their lights off so they can see the comet.

Nocturnal Ned apparently is as popular as he claims he is, because 30 seconds after the clock strikes 8:16, every light in the city blinks off, and everyone gets to see the comet after all.

"Twenty-three skidoo! Heh-heh! Boys, you're going to remember this for the rest of your lives." - Grandpa Phil

Lessons Learned From These Episodes: if someone seems to have a "perfect" life with perfect grades and perfect scores, and every award known to man, consider that maybe someone is pushing them to perfection because they expect noting less; seeing a comet is a one (or twice) in a lifetime opportunity, so take advantage of it