that one episode of 'arthur'
an unserious analysis of arthur read's joker moment
Do you remember the first time a movie or a television show truly, genuinely frightened you?
Most would say it was their first horror film a la Coraline or Monster House. Others might name one of the more out-there children’s shows like Courage the Cowardly Dog or Adventure Time. Maybe even Steven Universe, if you’re on the younger side (don’t be fooled by all the pretty colors, the show contains a number of genuinely terror-inducing moments). For me? It was Arthur.
Yup, that one.
Unlike the previous mentions which invite the expectation of spooky or intense moments - either because of their complexity as a narrative or because they’re already advertised as horror-adjacent - this particular episode of Arthur disturbed me as a child because it contains a moment that feels so starkly different in tone from the majority of the show that it’s jarring. I jokingly told a friend that that one scene where he smacks the shit out of his sister was horror, actually, and decided it would actually be really funny to analyze this scene film bro style to try and get to the bottom of why it has stuck with me the way it did. So I’m doing that now for the bit.
First, some context:
Arthur is a show about an elementary-school-aged kid of the same name living in the fictional Elwood City (I projected onto the show really hard and just viewed it as Brooklyn with a different coat of paint) with his family, friends, and a colorful patchwork of neighbors and community members. Each episode more or less depicts an episode of his or another character’s life as they grapple with some mundane conflict, like getting grounded or coming down with the flu. Standard stuff.
The episode in question, titled ‘Arthur’s Big Hit’ (lol) sees the titular character meticulously gluing together his new fancy model airplane. Throughout the episode, we watch D.W. constantly barging in to give her commentary on how she fundamentally doesn’t understand why this ‘toy’ is so important to him. She messes with the pieces as he’s putting the thing together and interrupts as he’s painting it; she even carelessly spills the bright orange paint he’s using despite consistent warnings not to touch anything, and his annoyance builds - foreshadowing at its finest. After Arthur repaints his model (D.W. gets her fingers on it while the paint is still wet), he steps back, proud of his creation. It’s “the best thing he’s ever made”, and we are subsequently treated to a dream sequence of him receiving an award from an astronaut to really drive the point home. It’s the greatest thing he’s ever accomplished in all of his eight years of living, thus raising the stakes and making us (pretend you’re the target age demographic for a second) care that much more about what happens to it.
In the moments leading up to The Big Hit, we see Arthur running around the living room, pretending to pilot his plane before cutting to D.W. doing the same thing while playing with his newly-built model. The parallel is clear: they’re both just kids playing pretend, but D.W. is engaging in play without some of the contextual understanding that her older brother possesses - she doesn’t get that when you piece together a toy model, it’s not the same sort of toy that you run around with and throw out of the window. The moment she enters the living room to proclaim that his toy airplane “doesn’t fly at all”, the screen comically shatters in a brilliant transition to the moment Arthur finds the broken corpse of his beloved BX-11, or whatever it was.
Once we’re outside, the camera pans up in a sharply angled shot to reveal that the sky has turned a stormy gray, with leaves circling around the characters as the wind picks up. This is NOT going to end well. The camera finally cuts to the shattered plane with a damning organ playing in the background to confirm the tragedy of it all. Arthur sinks to the ground, heartbroken. He’s never gonna get that non-descript Nobel Peace Prize stand-in now.
D.W. of course, does not register his distress.
“If it could break the sound barrier, falling out of a window shouldn’t be able to break it!”
She continues commenting obliviously on the ineffectiveness of the miniature aircraft as Arthur slowly rises to his feet, repeating over and over again as he bares his teeth, “I told you not to touch it!”
Arthur has been mildly annoyed and even angry at his sister for the entire episode up to this point, but it’s the close-up of his clenching fist (now a popular reaction meme) that marks a decisive shift: he’s about to do way more than just yell at her.
We don’t even see the hit connect; we see his fist, then watch the aftermath as the sarcastic, usually flippant and high-energy five-year-old hits the pavement…then bursts into tears, clutching her arm. Horrifying stuff.
This is one of - if not the only time we see Arthur Read engage in an intentional act of violence against another character. The consistent build-up of tension culminates in a scene that is nearly framed like a horror film where our friendly protagonist is now the serial killer standing over his victim. He has severely broken character, and you get the feeling that with it he’s also broken some sort of unspoken social contract with his young viewers.
Only parents dole out consequences. Is he…allowed to do that?
(He isn’t, as he’s shortly punished by his mother)
And here’s the real kicker: as much as we’re terrified at this side of Arthur that we’ve never seen before, and as much as we know in the back of our minds that this is very clearly wrong…
This scene felt cathartic.
Put simply, D.W. is annoying as fuck. For the entire series.
She waltzes into Arthur’s room and swipes his things with no notice or apology, she tattles on him frequently as a revenge tactic, and perpetually plays the victim when even her friends call her out on her bossiness and general disregard for those around her. Was she hilarious? Yes. But she clearly has never gotten her ass beat.
Yeah, she’s only, like, five, but most kids that were watching her were also five to ten years old.
The audience is likely just as irritated by her presence most episodes as her big brother is - especially those of us that had an equally-annoying younger sibling. That’s when a deeper sort of terror kicks in: had I (read: first grader me) been in that situation, I might’ve done it too. And the show understands this, but reminds us later on in the episode that although Arthur’s feelings are valid, you probably shouldn’t be socking your sister in the jaw just because she broke your model airplane.
But as Berleezy once said: “That’s what yo’ dumb ass get!”
(Please do not actually hit your siblings x)
Sooooooo your saying I have to apologize to my sister?