Last night I happened to see an episode of Gunsmoke called "The Bobsy Twins" which was originally broadcast on May 21, 1960. This was the most philosophically ambitious episode of the entire long-running series. It concerns two aging brothers (Merle and Harvey Finney) who come west with the simplistic mission of ridding it of Indians. The viewer is introduced to them immediately as they cluelessly stumble across the prairie in search of Dodge City; hillbilly eastern rubes completely unequipped for navigation and survival in the sparsely populated vastness of the West. They are on foot, have not eaten in two days, and look scruffy enough to be Lil' Abner characters. "The Bobsy Twins" title is gradually explained as the viewer comes to understand that like Bert and Nan, these two brothers are children forever - at least mentally.
One of the most fascinating things about the Bobbseys is that they never aged. After the first books the publisher of the series realized that in real time Bert and Nan were soon going to be too old for their target audience, and he put the brakes on their aging. After that Bert and Nan were forever twelve and Flossie and Freddie forever six.
In the allegorical Gunsmoke episode Merle and Harvey are childlike characters, almost witless. They trace their simplistic but somewhat contradictory value system back to a revered father who among other things felt that it was not proper to murder anyone on Sundays, not because it is wrong to randomly kill but because Sunday should be a day of rest. But these impulsive and bloodthirsty "twins" find it impossible to keep even this basic commandment. Frustrated at encountering no Indians they instead kill a man who refuses to share his Sunday dinner with them and then kill a friendly cowboy in order to keep their involvement in the first murder a secret. Both murders are a little contrived, with the brothers basically looking for an excuse to kill someone.
Once in Dodge a cowboy (Richard Chamberlain) in the Long Branch tells them that the livery store owner is a full-blooded Cherokee and they set out to hang him.
What makes the episode so special is that writer John Meston (who originally wrote the story for radio) is not really going off on the hypocrisy of Christianity or of religion in general. Although after the murders they repent having done these deeds on what should have been for them a day of rest, Meston is using the "day of rest" thing allegorically to represent the many childlike minds that grasp hold of whatever simplistic influence is out there as a way to justify their self-indulgence. And their revered father represents those who would use the fear, hate, and prejudices of simpletons like the Finney's to manipulate them for their own purposes (a certain presidential candidate comes to mind).
While the brothers' nativist banter in this episode is sometimes amusing, it is mostly in the script to humanize them enough so that they cannot simply be dismissed by viewers as creatures of a more barbaric species.
Then again, what do I know? I'm only a child.
One of the most fascinating things about the Bobbseys is that they never aged. After the first books the publisher of the series realized that in real time Bert and Nan were soon going to be too old for their target audience, and he put the brakes on their aging. After that Bert and Nan were forever twelve and Flossie and Freddie forever six.
In the allegorical Gunsmoke episode Merle and Harvey are childlike characters, almost witless. They trace their simplistic but somewhat contradictory value system back to a revered father who among other things felt that it was not proper to murder anyone on Sundays, not because it is wrong to randomly kill but because Sunday should be a day of rest. But these impulsive and bloodthirsty "twins" find it impossible to keep even this basic commandment. Frustrated at encountering no Indians they instead kill a man who refuses to share his Sunday dinner with them and then kill a friendly cowboy in order to keep their involvement in the first murder a secret. Both murders are a little contrived, with the brothers basically looking for an excuse to kill someone.
Once in Dodge a cowboy (Richard Chamberlain) in the Long Branch tells them that the livery store owner is a full-blooded Cherokee and they set out to hang him.
What makes the episode so special is that writer John Meston (who originally wrote the story for radio) is not really going off on the hypocrisy of Christianity or of religion in general. Although after the murders they repent having done these deeds on what should have been for them a day of rest, Meston is using the "day of rest" thing allegorically to represent the many childlike minds that grasp hold of whatever simplistic influence is out there as a way to justify their self-indulgence. And their revered father represents those who would use the fear, hate, and prejudices of simpletons like the Finney's to manipulate them for their own purposes (a certain presidential candidate comes to mind).
While the brothers' nativist banter in this episode is sometimes amusing, it is mostly in the script to humanize them enough so that they cannot simply be dismissed by viewers as creatures of a more barbaric species.
Then again, what do I know? I'm only a child.