Stan refuses to get Steve a pet dog, but Francine buys him one anyway. But when the dog is injured and winds up on life support, Stan is willing to go to outrageous lengths to keep it alive.Stan refuses to get Steve a pet dog, but Francine buys him one anyway. But when the dog is injured and winds up on life support, Stan is willing to go to outrageous lengths to keep it alive.Stan refuses to get Steve a pet dog, but Francine buys him one anyway. But when the dog is injured and winds up on life support, Stan is willing to go to outrageous lengths to keep it alive.
Photos
Seth MacFarlane
- Stan Smith
- (voice)
- …
Wendy Schaal
- Francine Smith
- (voice)
- …
Scott Grimes
- Steve Smith
- (voice)
Dee Bradley Baker
- Klaus
- (voice)
- …
Joe Lo Truglio
- Freddy
- (voice)
Kristen Schaal
- Librarian
- (voice)
Amy Sedaris
- Dr. Lizzy
- (voice)
George Segal
- Bernie
- (voice)
Storyline
Did you know
- TriviaThis episode is dedicated to Freddy Ferner, a dog who is owned by Johnathan Ferner, who was one of the producers and writers of the show.
- ConnectionsReferences Today (1952)
- SoundtracksWheel in the Sky
(uncredited)
Written by Robert Fleischman and Neal Schon and Ross Valory
Performed by Dee Bradley Baker
Featured review
American Dad does the "Scott Tenorman" format of animated comedy
Hopefully, as soon as I invoked the South Park classic "Scott Tenorman Must Die", the manifold similarities between that and this became obvious to anyone who has seen both episodes. Both use their 20 minute runtimes almost solely to build up to a superlatively dark reveal at the climax. The major flaw of this template is self-evident: the whole episode lives and dies on how well the big reveal goes down. It's a high risk/high reward strategy because the line between sadistically funny and just sadistic is hair thin. But when the gamble pays off, you end up with television history. "Scott Tenorman Must Die", being one of the most prominent and also earliest examples of this long gambit in adult animation, executed on its concept to perfection, leading to the most highly-rated episode of South Park to date and a TV moment that nobody will ever forget. I don't think it's a spoiler to say upfront that "Stan's Best Friend" is no "Scott Tenorman".
It's incredibly hard to know where the line in comedy is -- and it was still hard even ten years ago(1). It's completely subjective. We've seen enough comedians and their raunchy or off-colour routines over the years to learn that people will laugh at literally anything -- at least some of them, some of the time. But it's about playing the numbers and knowing your audience. With some people, the closer to the edge you go, the harder they laugh. With others, there's a point at which they recoil away. And with a subset of those others, there's a point that's so far beyond their usual breaking point that they find themselves laughing again despite themselves at the sheer level of intransigent excess. I suppose the AD writing room was hoping that they'd be able to find the intersection between the first and second groups by going to the edge that the sickos love and then so far over it that the rest follow involuntarily.
Did average American Dad fans find the A-plot with the Frankenstein puppy funny? Going by the reviews here, no. But we have a tiny sample size, a self-selecting sample, and the fact that people with extreme reactions, positive or negative, are far more likely to do something like post a review (in that sense, I seem to be an exception). The ratings tell a different story. An episode like "Stan's Best Friend" is profoundly polarising. The fact that many people clearly rated the episode so lowly implies that there must have been a decent number of dissenting high ratings for the current overall score of 6.9 to occur (or a massive group of strangers conspired to create a cosmic "nice", I guess). Without a doubt, 6.9 is a below average score for an American Dad episode from this era, but it's not horrendous or anything. I think the average around that time was about 7.5. (If you ask me, the show's golden age was the first four or five seasons, but I digress.)
The big difference between "Scott Tenorman Must Die" and "Stan's Best Friend" - besides the latter going too far in the eyes of some - is that "Scott Tenorman" managed to be pretty consistently funny, despite the first two acts only serving as a device to create the crescendo. I think that consistency was key to making "Scott Tenorman" an all-time great as opposed to a fondly-remembered gimmick. Episodes like these have intrisically limited longevity, so, despite the formula seeming to be an obvious "distract and then devastate", you can't afford to produce filler on the way up, because it's all that's left on repeat viewing. In that sense, I believe that "Stan's Best Friend" is a little too reliant on its big moment shock factor. The rest of the episode lacks in what feels like true A material. If you're going to do the "Scott Tenorman" formula, you've really gotta go big and commit: "Stan's Best Friend" does this at its gruesome apex but not consistently through the remainder of the episode.
For what it's worth, I do feel the same way as many of the other reviewers: the big reveal was more uncomfortable than funny to me (which I actually found impressive in its own way because I've never been made to feel uncomfortable by an animated sitcom before(2)). But, seeing the episode's intent and recognising its potential, I haven't docked points for failing to meet my subjective tastes in the big moments. Generally, I'm in the first group of people I mentioned above - the sick ****s - but "Stan's Best Friend" just doesn't match up well with my personal sense of humour (for me, by the way, this has nothing to do with the fact that it's a dog involved in the climax; I think I'd feel the same if it were a person instead(3)). I wasn't offended in any way; I just wasn't entertained either. And with the rest of the episode being somewhat mediocre, a middling score, like the 7/10 I've given, seems warranted and diplomatic. American Dad did this formula far better and even more faithfully in the following season's "Love, AD Style" (the one in which Roger falls in love with Hayley).
(1) I'd argue that in today's climate, you *can't* know. Even asking "can I get away with saying x?" is enough to ruin you as if you'd actually said x. So instead you find out where the line is when you get fired, either immediately or retroactively after enough time has passed for the joke to have become "unacceptable" somehow. As a result, we're going to see a continuation of the trend towards less experimentation and adventure in comedy.
(2) Except a certain live action clip in a certain episode of South Park, which was quasi-traumatic, but which doesn't count because it was a live action insertion into an animated show. And what a bizarre choice that was, too. It'd make a hell of a lot more sense nowadays. But I bet that episode no longer airs uncut, if it airs at all.
(3) I feel quite strongly about this. I love dogs and have had several, but people who care more about dogs than people - like this woman I know who openly prioritises her pet dog over her husband - are incomprehensible to me. They actually kinda concern me. Most of the time these people harmless enough, I suppose, but they just don't understand that a dog's loyalty is deterministic: it's essentially bred into their DNA that they have to love you. Is that really love? I'm not saying you or I can't appreciate a dog's love for what it is, but it's just not the same as a human with a full understanding of you as a person choosing to give you their heart. People who try to trick themselves into believing those *are* the same (typically "dog mommies" or, worse, "cat mommies") are often unhealthy and unhappy.
It's incredibly hard to know where the line in comedy is -- and it was still hard even ten years ago(1). It's completely subjective. We've seen enough comedians and their raunchy or off-colour routines over the years to learn that people will laugh at literally anything -- at least some of them, some of the time. But it's about playing the numbers and knowing your audience. With some people, the closer to the edge you go, the harder they laugh. With others, there's a point at which they recoil away. And with a subset of those others, there's a point that's so far beyond their usual breaking point that they find themselves laughing again despite themselves at the sheer level of intransigent excess. I suppose the AD writing room was hoping that they'd be able to find the intersection between the first and second groups by going to the edge that the sickos love and then so far over it that the rest follow involuntarily.
Did average American Dad fans find the A-plot with the Frankenstein puppy funny? Going by the reviews here, no. But we have a tiny sample size, a self-selecting sample, and the fact that people with extreme reactions, positive or negative, are far more likely to do something like post a review (in that sense, I seem to be an exception). The ratings tell a different story. An episode like "Stan's Best Friend" is profoundly polarising. The fact that many people clearly rated the episode so lowly implies that there must have been a decent number of dissenting high ratings for the current overall score of 6.9 to occur (or a massive group of strangers conspired to create a cosmic "nice", I guess). Without a doubt, 6.9 is a below average score for an American Dad episode from this era, but it's not horrendous or anything. I think the average around that time was about 7.5. (If you ask me, the show's golden age was the first four or five seasons, but I digress.)
The big difference between "Scott Tenorman Must Die" and "Stan's Best Friend" - besides the latter going too far in the eyes of some - is that "Scott Tenorman" managed to be pretty consistently funny, despite the first two acts only serving as a device to create the crescendo. I think that consistency was key to making "Scott Tenorman" an all-time great as opposed to a fondly-remembered gimmick. Episodes like these have intrisically limited longevity, so, despite the formula seeming to be an obvious "distract and then devastate", you can't afford to produce filler on the way up, because it's all that's left on repeat viewing. In that sense, I believe that "Stan's Best Friend" is a little too reliant on its big moment shock factor. The rest of the episode lacks in what feels like true A material. If you're going to do the "Scott Tenorman" formula, you've really gotta go big and commit: "Stan's Best Friend" does this at its gruesome apex but not consistently through the remainder of the episode.
For what it's worth, I do feel the same way as many of the other reviewers: the big reveal was more uncomfortable than funny to me (which I actually found impressive in its own way because I've never been made to feel uncomfortable by an animated sitcom before(2)). But, seeing the episode's intent and recognising its potential, I haven't docked points for failing to meet my subjective tastes in the big moments. Generally, I'm in the first group of people I mentioned above - the sick ****s - but "Stan's Best Friend" just doesn't match up well with my personal sense of humour (for me, by the way, this has nothing to do with the fact that it's a dog involved in the climax; I think I'd feel the same if it were a person instead(3)). I wasn't offended in any way; I just wasn't entertained either. And with the rest of the episode being somewhat mediocre, a middling score, like the 7/10 I've given, seems warranted and diplomatic. American Dad did this formula far better and even more faithfully in the following season's "Love, AD Style" (the one in which Roger falls in love with Hayley).
(1) I'd argue that in today's climate, you *can't* know. Even asking "can I get away with saying x?" is enough to ruin you as if you'd actually said x. So instead you find out where the line is when you get fired, either immediately or retroactively after enough time has passed for the joke to have become "unacceptable" somehow. As a result, we're going to see a continuation of the trend towards less experimentation and adventure in comedy.
(2) Except a certain live action clip in a certain episode of South Park, which was quasi-traumatic, but which doesn't count because it was a live action insertion into an animated show. And what a bizarre choice that was, too. It'd make a hell of a lot more sense nowadays. But I bet that episode no longer airs uncut, if it airs at all.
(3) I feel quite strongly about this. I love dogs and have had several, but people who care more about dogs than people - like this woman I know who openly prioritises her pet dog over her husband - are incomprehensible to me. They actually kinda concern me. Most of the time these people harmless enough, I suppose, but they just don't understand that a dog's loyalty is deterministic: it's essentially bred into their DNA that they have to love you. Is that really love? I'm not saying you or I can't appreciate a dog's love for what it is, but it's just not the same as a human with a full understanding of you as a person choosing to give you their heart. People who try to trick themselves into believing those *are* the same (typically "dog mommies" or, worse, "cat mommies") are often unhealthy and unhappy.
helpful•14
- watchinglotsofstuff
- Nov 12, 2021
Details
- Runtime22 minutes
- Color
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