S2, E22: "Helga's Love Potion" / "Gerald's Secret"

Happy day of hearts and chocolate! For those of you spending time with your significant other, have a great night! Just don't forget the lube. For those in that tight situation where you have your special someone but are unable to see them due to the fact that they're 100 miles away up at college and you have no way to get up there, I feel you. And for those of you who don't have anyone at all, at least you have a brand-new Hey Arnold! review to look forward to tonight. Plus, discounted chocolates tomorrow!

Although it would have been nice for "Arnold's Valentine" to land on this night, it's at least nice how, coincidentally, we have one romantic episode in the spirit of the review. I use the word "romantic" lightly, just so you know. And speaking of:

"Helga's Love Potion"

The alternate title for this episode should be "The Placebo Effect."

Helga groggily wakes up, goes into her closet, and pulls back the clothes we never see her wear to reveal her latest Arnold shrine. I like how she used an actual football for his head. The world now comes full-circle. Or should I say full-pointy-oval?

What, no gold-plated eyeballs?

She utters some sickeningly romantic soliloquy, no different from any of the others, and then goes to school to show Arnold just how much she's in love with him--by spraying him in the face with the water fountain.

If Arnold didn't see that one coming, it's no wonder he can't figure out Helga is harboring a secret lust for him by now.

Arnold brushes this juvenile prank off, and once he's out of earshot, Helga curses herself for not being able to stifle her cruelty towards him and just be a decent human being for once. This is more than just a fear of rejection--it's almost as if Helga doesn't know how to treat Arnold decently at all. I don't think that's true, considering how well she did as "Cecil." I think Helga's afraid that if she's kind to Arnold for too long, she'll accidentally let her feelings slip in the heat of the moment, and her whole secret will be let out for the world to know. It's the only logical explanation I can come up with for Helga's character, which we will come to know much more about as the series marches on.

During class while Helga is hocking spitballs at Arnold, Mr. Simmons decides he wants to read a poem someone in class wrote because it's pretty darn good. It turns out to be Helga's poem (no surprise), but because she signs it "Anonymous," Mr. Simmons doesn't reveal that it's Helga's poem. Of course, the respectful sentiment is barely enough to keep Helga from slinking into her chair like melting butter.

At lunch, Helga grabs the last tapioca pudding cup, and she overhears Arnold being disappointed that there's none left. She wrestles with herself--"Should I be nice and give him the pudding, or should I be a dick's foreskin and dump it all over him?" Ladies and gentlemen, what do you think the answer is?

Perhaps Helga gets a thrill out of humiliating Arnold. The water fountain spraying was silly, but this is just downright mean. How does Arnold not lose his shit over this? He could stand up for himself and tell Helga off, hell, even get Principal Wartz involved, but Arnold just accepts his fate as Helga's test dummy. This isn't Arnold being "too nice" anymore--he's a doormat. A grade-A, stoned hippie-level, prime-cut doormat. I'm not exactly assertive myself, but even nine-year-old me would have been like, "Hey! Knock it off, already!" instead of just walking off in a huff.

Helga goes to Phoebe for help dealing with her obsession over her torturing Arnold masquerading as "affection" for him, but, of course, Phoebe doesn't even get an inch close to the words to describe Helga's behavior and already Helga goes off on her like the neurotic nutcase she is. Criminy is right!

Helga practically reveals to Phoebe that she's hopelessly obsessed with Arnold, but (un)cleverly covers it up as an obsession with "ice cream." Phoebe suggests that Helga should just forget about "ice cream," and look into "other food groups," which I can only guess means Helga should start stalking other boys with zero assertiveness. And so, Helga's like, "I guess I can try it."

Unfortunately, forgetting about ice crea--I mean Arnold, it's proving to be much too difficult for Helga as she sees this kid's face every-Goddamn-where. Okay, if you're actually hallucinating your crush's face in every inanimate object you see, you have a sickness and need psychological help. Helga needs to get professional help. But what do kids her age do instead? Use the magic of psychosomatic drugs, of course!

So, who's this Madame Blanche, anyhow? Oh, just one of those corner-of-the-block "psychics" who sells pseudo-scientific voodoo and convinces you that your tarot cards can reveal your destiny. While it's all in good fun, I don't understand how any of these places stay in business. There must be more poor gullible souls than I thought.

Helga figures if this place sells overpriced juices labeled "love" potions, they must also sell juices that are labeled "out of love" potions. 

So, Helga sits down and spills her sorrows to the brunette Long Island Medium, and I am just mesmerized by that smoky green ball. Look at it--it's like hyper-realistic. No way did someone draw those wispy smoke trails. 

If I was more talented, I would make an entire GIF of that crystal ball.

While Helga rambles on about Arnold, Madame Blanche turns away and pours grape soda into a heart-shaped container, and then tells Helga to say Arnold's name and then drink it, and then she will love Arnold no more. She charges Helga a totally reasonable ten bucks, and sends her on her way.

One dollar for the grape soda, nine dollars for the Chinese-assembled plastic container.

Hooray for the placebo effect! Curing people of their illnesses and injuries since World War II. You know, for someone as smart as Helga to buy into this woman's gobbledygook, thinking that she holds this all-powerful potion that will turn her deep-rooted emotions off like a light switch (which would actually make Madame Blanche quite the medical marvel of the millennium), she sure must be desperate to rid her feelings. Actually, if anything, Helga doesn't want to stop loving Arnold; she just wants to stop causing him misery as a way of covering up her infatuation. But do you know what a more reasonable solution to Helga's problems would be? Controlling herself so she doesn't act like a fucking bitch! Free and effective!

That night, Helga rids her room of all Arnold memorabilia--including her sacred locket--in preparation of dramatically drinking a vial of grape soda. That's right, all her poems, her shrines, and every piece of hair, gum, and skin cell from Arnold is discarded. I'm surprised Helga doesn't just chuck all this stuff into the fireplace. That would at least match the Shakespeare-esque scene she's performing for the invisible audience. I swear, if Helga doesn't go into acting as an adult, I will be sorely disappointed.

There's even a bolt of lightning to accompany her descent into normalcy. Very melodramatic. I have an idea on how to make this scene even sadder/funnier: 

It's 2:30 in the morning, and Big Bob and Miriam are fighting. Helga is exhausted, and just wants to get over her infatuation with Arnold so she can go to sleep already. There's no lighting, but there is the sound of a sitcom playing on the downstairs TV as Bob pounds up and down the stairs shouting obscenities that would make even Bob Saget blush. Helga is slumped against her wall--the lights still on because she's too lazy to turn them off. The camera is at a weird, far angle and doesn't move. We watch as Helga crawls around on her floor crying and moaning to herself how she hates being in love with Arnold, and then just as the studio audience laughs at some dumb joke on the TV, Helga dramatically downs the potion, makes a face, and quickly figures out that the magical potion that promised to rid her of these intense emotions is nothing but warm grape juice. And then she feels worse because now she's imagining the grape juice is wine, and then she imagines herself and Arnold on a gondola in Venice licking puddles of wine off of each other. Meanwhile, Helga knocks her head against the wall until she slips unconscious.

So, Helga then starts to hallucinate (or dream, I really don't know) that she's in a black void surrounded by colorful hearts, and as she touches a giant version of her locket with Arnold's picture in it, it crumbles and falls. I guess this is supposed to symbolize Helga "breaking" up with her love for Arnold. 

Helga drops into a giant Arnold-shaped banana split, sinks into it, and then falls out of the bottom into another black void with footballs and books and more hearts. This is just really trippy, guys. 

The next morning, Miriam screams for Helga to get her ass out of bed, so Helga uses this opportunity to see if the potion worked. She fishes one of her journals out of the garbage and cringes at one of the poems she's written, convinced that she is no longer in love with Arnold. In actuality, she's just reading her work with unbiased eyes, making her think that her former deep despairs are now just dimwitted drivel. Again, placebo effect.

At school, Arnold is in shock and awe that Helga isn't launching ABC gum into his hair or squirting him with water. Instead of Arnold being relieved and happy, Arnold actually looks somewhat concerned. It's as if he's wondering what could possibly be bothering Helga that she's not picking on him today. But really, I totally understand Arnold's reaction to the new, "normal" Helga. 

Hell, she doesn't even sock Brainy anymore when he starts breathing down her neck. Brainy is so confused that he ends up punching himself. I couldn't stop laughing at that. Poor Brainy!

Mr. Simmons comes around to collect everyone's daily creative writing assignments and is especially excited to read Helga's work, as he's been able to learn a lot about her through her writing. But to Mr. Simmons' dismay, Helga wrote, instead, a monotonous morning routine poem. 

Wait a minute, Craig Bartlett, are you telling me that Helga's obsession with Arnold is her only redeeming character trait? Because now that it's "gone," Helga is reduced to a flat, emotionless ghost who now just seems depressed instead of neurotic. It would have been a lot more interesting if Helga had kept her same anger and oafish personality, just without the lust for Arnold. So, what this essentially means is that Helga's entire personality and writing talent stems 100% from Arnold. That's... not healthy in the slightest. But you don't need me to tell you that, do you?

Helga no longer sees Arnold's face everywhere, and tells Phoebe that she feels empty inside. She realizes that she needs Arnold to love, hate, and inspire her, so she returns to the potion shop to ask Madame Blanche to reverse the spell. Madame Blanche realizes that she's probably going to get sued over this so she reveals that the potion is simply grape soda with a few other ingredients. Helga is pissed at first for being suckered out of ten bucks, but then is relieved that she can "love" Arnold again. Or, rather, she realizes that she has the power to calm her ass down and not obsess over Arnold to the point where she's losing her damn mind. 

And so, Helga skips down the street happy to be in love once more. She even kisses Brainy right on his brain!

And he faints. Because love.

Naturally, Helga crashes right into Arnold, and delivers a big ole insult right to his face, just like she always did. Because she has that power, and always will.

"Gerald's Secret"

The kids show off all the cool tricks they can do on their bikes, except for Harold, because he is a fat ass.

Well, it's not so much that Harold is fat; there is no air in his tires. Then again, having no air in your tires won't cause wooden boards to snap beneath you.

So, from this little gag, we know this is going to be an episode about bikes. 

Gerald comes by, not on a bike, and Arnold tells him to grab his bike so everyone can practice together for the world peace charity bike-a-thon. No, seriously, the charity is for world peace. It's adorable how Arnold thinks by raising a couple of bucks, he can help bring peace to the world. He's so young; he'll learn. Helga is long past believing in that sort-of thing, which from a kid's eyes may seem pessimistic, but it's actually insightful. At nine years old, Helga already realizes that world peace is never going to happen--that's something you don't realize until you're in high school where the popular kids are beating you into fondue because you're that guy who decided to wear a pink polo to school. 

Everyone tells Gerald to go get his bike, but Gerald starts making excuses as to why he can't (such as he has to help paint his parents' living room), and at this point, it's pretty clear that Gerald's "secret" is that he doesn't know how to ride a bike. Of course, everyone is oblivious, even when Gerald straight-up turns around and goes home without much of a care. Everyone except Arnold shrugs and rides off, but Arnold decides to follow Gerald back home and investigate.

In this world, I've noticed no one is allowed to skip out on anything. Like, if everyone is doing this bike-a-thon, and Gerald says he just doesn't want to do it because he doesn't feel like it (obviously there is a reason, but I'm talking about in general), Arnold especially will want to know exactly why, as if just not feeling up to it is not a good enough reason. If only kids in the real world were this altruistic.

So, Arnold walks around to Gerald's living room window and sees that he's not prepping for painting, but is, instead, watching TV.

Arnold tries to get the truth out of Gerald by asking if he needs help "painting," until Gerald reveals that there is no painting going on. So then Gerald tells Arnold the truth--and he must swear never to tell anybody so long as he continues to live on this Earth--Gerald doesn't know how to ride a bike.

It turns out that Gerald has had a bit of a fear learning how to ride one because when he was younger, he accidentally rode his bike with training wheels down the giant hill that always seems to be under construction. And when he crashed, he crashed hard.

So, ever since then, he just never learned. 

Arnold says that he can help Gerald learn in time for the bike-a-thon (for world peace!) in an isolated area where no one will see them. Gerald reluctantly agrees. 

You know, maybe it's just because I'm pushing 23 years old, but I don't understand why not knowing how to ride a bike is so embarrassing. I didn't learn until my 10th birthday. I guess this is just the curse of adulthood, where the only thing to be "embarrassed" about is if you're still a virgin. 

After school the next day, Gerald shows up to the back of a tire warehouse in a trench coat and sunglasses, as if no one is going to recognize him and his Marge Simpson hair.

So, is that Gerald's skull right beneath the helmet? Otherwise that's some rock hard, nappy hair!

Arnold greets Gerald super loudly, eliminating the secrecy of their training, and then he tells him to take off his coat, as he can't ride in it. Sure, he can. How else is he supposed to ride during the colder months?

So, Arnold decides to embarrass Gerald even more by having him start off on a none other than this monster hot rider:

Gerald's like, "You crazy, fool?! I ain't ridin' that girly-ass bike!" To make this situation even more high-larious, Arnold whips out some training wheels from the basket and attaches them to the bike. Gerald reluctantly climbs on, moaning that someone is going to see them. And sure enough, someone does.

Of course it had to be Harold! Of course it had to be the one big-mouth asshole of a kid to witness their fellow classmate doing something embarrassing. Of course Harold gets a sick pleasure out of seeing said classmate doing something embarrassing and cannot wait to tell everyone what he saw so that everyone can laugh along with him. 

But what I don't understand is how Arnold and Gerald don't see Harold standing right there. It's not like Harold is hiding behind one of the tire stacks--he's right out in the broad daylight twenty feet from them!

The camera is where Harold is standing, logically, so Arnold especially has no reason not to notice big, fat Harold standing right there. Then again, Arnold doesn't exactly have the best eyesight. Remember how he didn't realize that "Cecil" was Helga in a completely obvious disguise? If anything, Arnold probably mistook Harold for one of the tire stacks. 

Harold goes and tells everyone about Gerald and the tiny pink bike, and everyone has a jolly good laugh about it. When Arnold and Gerald pass by, everyone naturally starts teasing Gerald, but Arnold stands up for him and is like, "Gerald can SO ride a bike and he SO will be in the bike-a-thon." Seriously, Arnold? Look, I get that you just want to help Gerald. That's cool and all, but why do you have to force him to enter the bike-a-thon? What if he genuinely just doesn't want to do it, and him not being able to ride a bike is just a coincidence?

So, all Friday (I suppose this must be a holiday since these kids should be in school), Arnold trains Gerald in rather unconventional ways that would make me want to smack Arnold in the back of his head:

Is it really necessary for Gerald to use (full) trash cans as obstacles when training? And for Arnold to say, "You're lookin' great out there!" whenever Gerald gets sixty pounds of raw garbage dumped on top of him? Forget that helmet--this kind of "training" would put him in the hospital.

Slowly but surely, Gerald starts to get better. But he keeps crashing into trash cans. Why is it always trash cans?

Gerald is sick and tired of being catapulted into garbage that he tells Arnold off and quits. But Arnold is still confident that Gerald can ride in the bike-a-thon if he just keeps training.

That night, Gerald dreams that his father is pushing him across a meadow on his training wheeled-bike, but suddenly, his anxiety kicks in and his father turns into Harold, and the springy meadow turns into a bike-pocalypse with thousands of mangled and flattened bikes all over the road leading to the giant hill.

After Harold pushes Gerald over the edge of the hill, Gerald wakes up and becomes determined to conquer his fear of that hill. So, he goes out in the middle of the night and practices. Yeah, that's totally a safe thing to do! No way you could be kidnapped or run over or crash and die going down that hill. There aren't even any streetlights. 

I don't even think rollercoasters have hills that steep.

The next day, everyone is prepping for the bike-a-thon. Harold continues to shit-talk Gerald in his singsong-y voice (which, by the way, is incredibly irritating) to Arnold, but then Gerald shows up on his bike--no training wheels, no pink, just his mountain bike and his helmet that doesn't even cover his head. Take that, Harold!

Why are there carbon copies of the same kid in the background?

So, the race begins. It's 10 kilometers (6.2 miles), so everyone's got quite the ride ahead of them. I'm not exactly sure if this is supposed to be a race or if people are just supposed to ride for the fun of it, but it looks like a race to me. The horn sounds and everyone takes off. Gerald steals the lead quite a number of times, with Arnold following close behind him.

One thing I have failed to mention so far is that it's incredible at how quickly Gerald learned to ride a bike. It took me months until I finally learned (I took a lot of long "breaks") so for Gerald to learn how to balance, steer, and brake in just two days is phenomenal, and not realistic in the slightest. Though both Gerald and I are rare exceptions, of course. 

Hey, Helga's helmet isn't locked in! She should fix that.

Anyway, Gerald makes it to the top of the hill that always seems to be under construction, except for today, as everything has been cleared for the bikers. Gerald pauses for a moment to build up tension, and then whoooooosh! down he goes!

Gerald then surpasses Harold, who still hasn't gotten his tires pumped, and then Harold crashes and tumbles into a baby store. Ah, yes. A visual metaphor that Harold is, indeed, a baby. Waaahhhh.

It's funny that his tires look just fine here.

And so, Gerald finishes in first place. He has finally learned how to ride a bike.

Lessons Learned From These Episodes: calm the hell down about your infatuation with your crush; don't trust anyone to give you a legitimate love potion of any kind; you can learn to ride a bike in two days or less