The Boondocks: The Complete Fourth Season

The Boondocks: The Complete Fourth Season

Aaron McGruder was a student at the University of Maryland when, in 1997, he started running a comic strip in the school’s newspaper.  It centered around two Chicago native youths that go to live with their grandfather in a nearby, predominately white, suburb they came to nickname The Boondocks.  Eventually, the strip went from college project to serious business venture, and the weekly Sunday feature was syndicated across the United States.  The brilliant minds at the Adult Swim branch of Comedy Central eventually reached out to the animator, and the first season of the show graced cable/satellite connected televisions in November of 2005.  For the next five years, we were gifted with three seasons.  It was tough as a fan not getting a “re-up” every year like most shows, but it was hard to argue with the timeline once the product was made available.  I have come to quickly and haphazardly reference this series as “black South Park” for those who haven’t watched or heard of the show.  Like the Matt Stone/Trey Parker project that is just as awesome in its own right, McGruder’s outlook does take current events or long regarded “no-nos” in society and comically break them down to either reveal their stupidity or underexposed validity.  But unlike Park, The Boondocks‘ characters aren’t just affected, but are actively apart of issue.  Robert “Granddad” Freeman (voiced by John Witherspoon), Riley & Huey Freeman (Regina King), Uncle Ruckus (Gary Anthony Williams), Tom Dubois (Cedric Yarbrough) and other regularly occurring cast members can embody the very controversy that is being lampooned in that episode.  In the first entry entitled “The Garden Party,” we are shown that Ruckus is what would be describe as an “Uncle Tom.”  While definitely, 100% African American, the elderly gentleman has convinced himself that he is, indeed, white and suffers from a condition he calls revitaligo, which increases the melanin count in his skin the older he gets.  This is Ruckus for the entire 55 episode run.  He never removes himself from this stance.  And while “the whites” never come to accept Ruckus as one of their own, and routinely keeps friendships with most of the other black regulars, he remains an uncompromising racists.  Rounded, but static characters is what allowed McGruder to generate the type of venom he and his fellow writing staff hand crafted for the first three outings.  It didn’t hesitate to point the finger.  It wasn’t afraid to throw up a middle finger.  It was consistently ruthless, cutting edge, thought provoking, and hilarious.  It’s really too bad these last ten verses didn’t keep pace.

According to a press release, “a mutually agreeable production schedule could not be determined” between Adult Swim and McGruder.  In short, his involvement in these episodes is minimal, and wow does it show.  All signs point to the prima-pen being handed to Rodney Barnes, a gentleman who is credited as a writer from the beginning.  This season takes a different approach in terms of storytelling.  Up to this point, the main narrative threads in each episode were almost always self contained.  Whether it be an examination of the R. Kelly trial, another failed attempt for Robert to find true love, or Huey’s personal rejection of President Obama as a black man, the story lines didn’t go beyond the 22 (or so) minutes.  This time, a central plot point installed in ep. 402 pervades most of the remaining eight chapters.  In short, the Freemans are broke and millions of dollars in debt.  In accordance, many episodes are spent trying to “make paper” and get back to financial square one.  “Breaking Granddad” spoofs Breaking Bad, as one of Huey’s “science experiments” is mistaken as hair care products that could be very lucrative if not so terribly dangerous.  The idea to intertwine most of the season together really seems to limit the creativity and possibilities that could’ve been otherwise.

Aside from this, there are a handful of other problems that detrimentally plague season four.  The first is that it seems the remaining writing staff felt they needed to deliver the same types of jokes that Boondocks fans have come to expect, but wasn’t really sure how to go about it.  Many of the attempts at laughs wind up coming across as lazily composed remixed renditions of jokes that were constructed in the previous 45 installments.  At times, it feels these conventions where blindly thrown at a story aspect hoping to strike the same comic gold as the McGruder led stuff.  Riley is capable of delivering the most cacophonous cackles because of his lack of a politically correct filter.  However, the moment has to be right.  You must first tear down the subject matter at hand, illustrate why it’s irrelevant, ridiculous, or both, then let Riley rip it apart with his urban slang laced tirades.  Without first making a mockery of the issue, he comes across as an ignorant, angry kid with no manners or respect.  The latter happens more than the former.  Secondly, and concordant-ly, Huey’s effect is almost outright nullified.  As the yin to Riley’s yang, there were amazing orations written for Ms. King that would bring clarity, gravity, pertinence, and relevance to all the comedic hoop-la and hooligan-isms.  These show defining moments are in desperately short supply and is the single greatest shortcoming of this senior campaign.  And one specific misstep really grabbed my attention as lame.  Look, I understand shows of a common theme are going to “borrow” certain narrative aspects from time to time.  But in “Freedom Ride or Die” (another example of Robert being the worst documented champion of the Civil Rights Movement), the punch line from a Chappelle’s Show skit about Jim Crow laws in the American South pre Brown v. Board of Education is outright ripped off.  I find it hard to believe the remaining crew of such a previously powerful show couldn’t come up with something more creative than teleplay robbery in this instance.  Very disappointing.

A few positives do save season four from full-on banishment.  John Witherspoon is on his A game from start to finish.  His cranky outlook and no nonsense approach towards other people remains accurate and very funny.  In one of the season’s rare highlights “I Dream of Siri,” our ever increasing dependence upon intelligent technology grabs Robert by the nap of the neck and results in his iPhone 5 becoming yet another femme fatale.  This is Granddad at his best: the short sighted benefits outweigh the long term consequences until his badly sewn seeds come to roost and have the potential to harm everyone around him.  Well done.  The best episode is the last.  Entitled “The New Black,” we see The Boondocks get back to doing what it does best, pissing people off.  Riley is put on display for the public to throw stones at for calling a fellow classmate’s dance moves gay.  This sets off a fire storm of controversy dotted with individuals from various minority groups all wanting a share of the impending media blitzkrieg to use the young Freeman as a poster child for their causes and personal agendas.  Exposing the selfish and obligatory nature of cancerous persons that can often overshadow the validity and need for 21st century rights movements is the point of the entry.  Laughter is an after product of what it’s really meant to do: make you think, which is what most of the bigger 55 episode picture does.

The presentation is decent.  DVD quality has gotten really good over the past few years and can be indecipherable from Blu-ray in rare instances.  Here, the look is kind of flat and grainy.  It was much better during the HD airings on Adult Swim.  The 5.1 Dolby Digital track is mostly average, but does have a good vocal mix that keeps dialogue at the forefront.  In terms of Special Features, the pantry is almost bare.  The ten minute “Boondocks Beats” features an interview with score composing team Jonathan Jackson and Metaphor the Great and details how they use rather simple tools to construct the amazing musical backdrops.  And “A Writer’s Perspective” offers five minutes with executive producer and writer Rodney Barnes, who explains the show’s place in the lexicon of similar television series and talks about the comedians that influence his writing.