Mike Judge
Beavis & Butt-head

"Beavis and Butt-head are not real. They are stupid cartoon people completely made up by this Texas guy who we hardly even know. Beavis and Butt-head are dumb, crude, thoughtless, ugly, sexist, self destructive fools. But for some reason, the little weinerheads make us laugh."

Not that the disclaimer above was needed, the names of the protagonists were already enough to get a rough idea of what might be behind this MTv creation. However, the initial guitar riff was enough to entice viewing, if only for the first few minutes. Beavis & Butt-head burst onto the television schedule like a bolt from the blue, at a time (1993) when the height of political incorrectness was represented by a well-known family living in Springfield.

Residing in the fictional town of Highland (in Texas, of course), Mike Judge's creations were incredibly stupid, devoid of morals, ethics, remorse, with a natural predisposition to perform illegal and/or disgusting actions, obsessed with the idea of having sex, and incapable of making a sentence without using foul language. All of this was set in a realistic context where people acted and behaved credibly, often shocked by the duo, falling victim to them, or reacting with violence. The trademark was the unique way of conceiving humor, essentially given by the effects of the actions of two individuals operating purely on instinct, dealing with everyday life and the consequences of their actions on their surroundings.

Judge did not hide having been inspired by two of his former classmates in his parody of post-80s America. The show was indeed populated by easily identifiable stereotypes found in real life: from the gentle and harmless long-haired professor straight out of Woodstock, to the violent coach from the Marines, to the principal always on the brink of a heart attack: and the school, although very average, remained the cleanest and brightest place in the squalid neighborhood where the protagonists lived, a town with dull colors and a gray sky, also populated by elements at the margins of society, shown without moralizing or censorship.

In its (almost) 5 years of airing, the popularity of the cartoon grew exponentially, quickly becoming the most financially successful brand funded by MTv: in 1996, a well-crafted feature-length film was made that fully captured the series' unique spirit, confirming its success even in Europe. Soon, people began to wonder why a cartoon so stupid and disgusting to most could have such a following. The so-called "quest for coolness" of the protagonists took on a particular meaning when it addressed an audience whose instincts broadly mimicked those of the horrid duo. Being popular, having sex, drinking alcohol, trying drugs, and playing dangerous games are all elements that, in part or wholly, cross the mind of any teenager. B&B thus represented the bottom of the barrel, the example not to follow, the line of demarcation between those who make it and those lost from the start, not so much for their desires, but for the way of obtaining them. However, the humorous element remained predominant over the satire, so although there was an intent to warn that such characters could really exist, everything was diluted in the absurd comedy of the stories.

Judge also created the character of Daria, having her cross paths with the duo several times, but he didn’t believe she could be successful. Glenn Eichler proved otherwise, taking her with Mike's permission and creating a spin-off that, unlike B&B, was based on an intelligent protagonist with cynical humor and a world full of bright and vivid colors.

Nowadays, it is likely that new generations have little in common with this cartoon, the obscene has long been dominated by South Park and the politically incorrect by Family Guy. However, it remains a unique product of its kind, never imitated but of great influence on American pop culture. Also noteworthy is how the series maintained the same level from start to finish, without the qualitative ups and downs that characterized all other productions of the same period. When the ideas ran out, the final episode closed everything with the same liveliness with which the dances had opened, 7 seasons earlier.