‘South Park: The End of Obesity’ Reinvigorates a Familiar Formula

Matt Stone and Trey Parker’s latest special proves why the comedic duo continues to dominate the world of satire

Paramount Plus

Since Matt Stone and Trey Parker, the two creators of South Park and Tony Award-winning writers of The Book of Mormon, struck separate deals with Paramount Plus and HBO Max (now Max), they became near-billionaires overnight and both entered into a new era of bold.

For a show that sports controversy as its middle name, a statement like that may sound strange. As a crudely animated satire that earned its fame by breaking curse word records, lambasting celebrities, and attacking the world’s major religions, it’s hard to imagine how the irreverent paper cutouts could continue to top themselves after all of these years.

Many might even wrongly believe that the show has begun to grow stale. But 2024’s Paramount Plus special, “South Park: The End of Obesity,” served as a direct response to those heartless naysayers.

It’s the episodes that tackle the close-to-home issues that tend to resonate the most strongly with viewers. In many ways, an appreciation of a specific South Park episode hinges on an understanding of the subject matter at hand. As a healthy 28-year-old, this exaggerated dive into the world of Ozempic and obesity wasn’t exactly one that spoke to anything personal. For the first third of the made-for-streaming movie, I feared that this South Park special might be the rare misfire.

But so often, what I love about South Park is its ability to stay current. Where The Simpsons and Family Guy both deserve credit for their long-running durations on TV, it’s South Park that’s offered the most constant and most unrelenting commentary on our ever-shifting present day. Throughout 26 seasons, a movie, and now seven Paramount Plus specials, Stone and Parker’s ability to keep their finger planted firmly on the world’s frenetic pulse has been nothing if not astonishing.

Even while Ozempic isn’t an issue that’s close to home, watching the characters of this show I’ve grown up with drift further and further from where they first began has been nothing if not a delight. It’s a show that’s learned to revel more and more in its long-lasting reign in the world of comedy.

In “South Park: The End of Obesity,” the ever-chubby Cartman attempts to finally get his weight in check after hearing about the Ozempic craze sweeping the country. But struggling to afford it, he’s prescribed instead, “body positivity.” In a scrambling bid to cure himself of obesity, he and his four friends brave TikTok videos, the American Health Care system, an onslaught of murderous cereal mascots, and a burgeoning black market drug trade.

Randy, in characteristic fashion, falls head over heels for this new Ozempic-injecting lifestyle and community. The episode culminates in a bombastic car chase more befitting a Grand Theft Auto game than a South Park episode. But the gun-wielding Kyle Brovfloski and brief Ozempic peddler Randy Marsh make this departure from the standard formula a joy for fans in nearly every moment.

Oftentimes, South Park gets wrongly relegated to a category of potty humor. And it’s certainly true that when it was initially released, and Stone and Parker were only in their mid-20s, it was an endeavor largely defined by its fart jokes and abrasive antics.

But by the time the fifth season rounded the bend and the two creators had begun to really find their rhythm as writers, they started offering some of the most reliably keen commentary on the issues of our time of any cartoon ever created.

It’s difficult for a show to remain on TV for entire decades without beginning to lose its lifeblood. The Simpsons has its merits and certainly its share of loyal fans. But more often than not, its continued presence on TV comes across feeling like fan service rather than necessity. South Park, in contrast, has only become more and more thoughtful and relevant in the years since it was released. Rather than losing its identity, its identity has wholly and deftly shifted with the times. It’s every bit as home on TV today as it’s ever been before. It moved over to streaming and satirized the very transition it underwent.

Even well after Parker and Stone released a fifteenth season, South Park was a show still reinventing itself and exploring new directions. From bans in China and AI uprisings to school shootings, pandemics, vaccines, culture shifts, conspiracy theories, and presidential elections, it’s been there to offer its biting commentary on all of it at every turn.

And even when South Park has gone into those most harrowing topics, it’s been conscientious about the points it delivers. It doesn’t draw humor from children dying senselessly; it drives home a dark and sardonic message about the grating regularity of gun violence in America. It didn’t make light over the one million+ dead of COVID-19; it gave viewers a reason to laugh through trying times. It offered a poignant commentary on our growing divisions.

If there were risks South Park was unwilling to take or outrageous spectacle they were unwilling to entertain — with their sudden acquisition of billionaire status — the two satirical titans have lost what piddly compunction they still had left.

With the Marsh family permanently residing on a weed farm and Randy having cultivated an off-screen friendship with the talking towel from twenty seasons prior, the show is as boisterously comfortable in its identity as ever before. The wildly cinematic and off-the-wall direction of Stone and Parker’s most recent projects have proven standouts for even a show that sends whales to the moon and has routinely attempted to depict Mohammed.

From portraying the kids as adults in a post-Corona world in “South Park: Post COVID,” to depicting diverse versions of the animated cast in “South Park: Joining the Panderverse,” these Paramount Plus specials have managed to break new ground for the TV show with a compass perpetually pointed toward controversy.

In this new streaming ecosystem, great shows aren’t always given the opportunity to shine. And inversely, dull and lifeless series and franchises have their lives drawn out to unconscionable extremes. But South Park stands as a rare beacon, not just in the world of animation, but in the world of entertainment as a whole, to riotously justify a nearly three-decade runtime.

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This article was originally published on Medium.

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