Since there have been stories, there have been stories that anthropomorphize animals. Folks have imagined creatures behaving as humans in every corner of the world, in myths and fables and fairy tales from ancient cultures to today. So by the turn of the 20th century, when a mycologist known for painting incredibly detailed images of fungus decided to instead write and illustrate stories about animals in contemporary clothes, it wasn’t exactly a new idea. But perhaps that makes it more impressive: despite the multitude of animal books for children that have been published in the last hundred and fifty years, the work of Beatrix Potter still stands out.

She’s not alone, of course: no good conversation about humanized animals in Western kid lit can last long without mentioning Richard Scarry or Margaret Wise Brown or Arnold Lobel. And Peter Rabbit’s extended family is quite British, which puts it at odds with the nostalgic Americana of Over the Garden Wall: it’s not for nothing that our assortment of animals in Schooltown Follies includes a raccoon and an opossum. But the timeless quality of Potter’s work is still felt in this episode in two ways. First, while the show has a cartoony lens, the school animals are far more anatomically accurate than Beatrice or the frogs of Lullaby in Frogland, evoking Potter’s signature field guide style. And second, there’s a mischief to Potter’s animals that makes them feel more like real children than the cute but bland residents of Scarry’s Busytown, and mischief is the name of the game when Greg comes to schooltown.

Schooltown Follies is full of clever tricks, but perhaps its most clever is introducing animals with human qualities (they wear clothes, play instruments, and walk on their hind legs) but not giving them voices. It’s generally great comedy fuel, showing the inherent ridiculousness of a school for sorta normal animals, but it more importantly allows the episode a silent movie feel, with plenty of physical humor enhanced by characters without dialogue. That style completes the episode’s subversion of Beatrix Potter’s oeuvre: she wrote stories about naughty animals learning that they should behave, but in this vaudeville version, the only way to save the day is by misbehaving.

“Then I’ll do what I need to do, I guess.”

Despite being one of our three main characters, Greg trades a full character arc for a comic relief role. At the beginning of Over the Garden Wall he’s a chatty kid who never gives up and loves fun, and at the end he’s a chatty kid who never gives up and loves fun. This doesn’t mean he’s fully static, as he matures enough to accept some responsibility to others instead of seeking entertainment for himself: he abandons a potential happy ending to try to save Wirt with the Beast, and returns his stolen Rock Facts Rock in the last shot of the series. But even this obligation to help out is present early on: Schooltown Follies is the first of his two focus episodes, and the foundation of his eventual heroism is established right here.

And frankly? I think it’s okay if he’s not that dynamic. Greg doesn’t change as much as Wirt or Beatrice because he doesn’t have nearly as much to overcome, and he still contributes to the show without forcing the crew to juggle three distinct arcs. Our older kids are on a shorter timer to grow up, and have clearer negative traits (Wirt’s got no confidence, Beatrice is a jerk), and while we can accuse Greg of lacking social cues, he’s so young that it’s not indicative of a larger problem. He’s just acting his age, albeit in a heightened way for entertainment, and to lose that innocence this early in his life would make this show a serious downer.

“Heightened” is the general mood of Schooltown Follies, where Greg’s less realistic behavior fits much better than The Old Grist Mill’s bottom-of-the-barrel aside. This is an episode where Two Old Cat, an old-timey bat-and-ball game that evokes a similar old-school era as our old school, involves searching for actual old cats, somehow finding them immediately, then realizing one is too old to play and must instead be taken care of by a raccoon in a newsboy cap and overalls.

While there’s plenty of humor to go around in Over the Garden Wall, this is the only fully silly episode. Our other lighthearted outings come with dark twists: Songs of the Dark Lantern introduces the Beast, Lullaby in Frogland reveals Adelaide, and Babes in the Wood turns out to be the most somber episode of the series with context. Here we almost get a parody of such a twist, with characters repeatedly mentioning a wild gorilla on the loose apropos of nothing, then revealing that the gorilla is Miss Langtree’s paramour trapped in a suit. It’s a ridiculous setup to a ridiculous punchline, aided by casting Thomas Lennon for a few lines of dialogue (his read for “I. Was. The gorilla” was worth every penny), so there’s never any sense of danger. Jimmy Brown and Enoch are equally harmless in the end, but I doubt any little kids watching are gonna get nightmares about the ape suit.

This mood is enhanced with song, but among the many musical moments in the series—Mad Love is the only episode without singing in some form—Schooltown Follies stands out by not letting any of the numbers finish. We begin and end the episode in song, but Greg doesn’t have the last lines for Adelaide Parade figured out, Langtree’s Lament faces numerous interruptions before being cut short by the bell (they actually did a full version though!), and Potatoes and Molasses gets stopped first by Mr. Langtree, then by the end credits. Even Miss Langtree’s piano rendition of last episode’s Patient is the Night halts when Greg mashes the keys. It’s the perfect atmosphere for an episode about a kid who loves fun, but is easily distracted and hasn’t developed good planning skills.

Which isn’t to say that Greg is dumb, but that he’s prone to winging it in a way that sets him apart from Wirt. While Wirt rambles his thoughts aloud, Greg takes action without telling anyone why, making his decisions appear random in a medium that often explains motives concretely to young viewers. Wandering in his own direction has become a running gag by now, and while he sets off to make the world a better place, he instead plays outside with animal truants. He’s jolted back to his quest by the bland food and dull atmosphere of lunch hour, and his irrepressible energy lightens everybody’s day without much effort. When Mr. Langtree steps in as an antagonist, Greg decides once again to do something about it, this time saying explicitly that he has no plan, but everything works out again. We get an excellent joke from his decision to rob Langtree right after he becomes sympathetic, but as usual, Greg has bigger ideas behind the humor that he just hasn’t articulated.

While Greg is busy delightfully saving the day, Wirt and Beatrice ease into a sniping side story that establishes their relationship for the next few episodes. They got off on the wrong foot in The Old Grist Mill and twisted that ankle in Hard Times at the Huskin’ Bee, so by now Beatrice doesn’t even try to hide her disdain and Wirt gets fed up with it. This is the perfect type of subplot, one that develops our characters and fits into the theme of the episode—Wirt’s rebellious obedience bounces off Greg’s rebellious call to disobey—but doesn’t distract from the main story.

Beatrice is helpful in opening up Wirt’s snotty side in a way that allows us to cheer for him. Until now his biggest conversation partner has been Greg, and it’s tough to side with Wirt when he’s mean to Greg, but Beatrice is an equal in terms of sparring, and her rudeness is a more understandable motive for Wirt to be obstinate than Greg’s playfulness. Our last episode had him aimlessly suggest staying in Pottsfield, and he’s similarly bound to this new location, but his different attitude changes the entire story. After two episodes of dithering, it’s nice that they let Elijah Wood play a character who’s funny on purpose for a spell, reveling in annoying Beatrice.

And even though he doesn’t know what to do, we actually get our first heroic moment from Wirt here. Greg saved the day in Grist Mill, and the situation resolves without much issue in Hard Times, but Jimmy is saved from the gorilla costume because of Wirt. True, he only interferes after being commanded to by Mr. Langtree, and he clearly has no idea what to do, and he trips over his shoelaces rather than contribute in an intentional way, but it sets the stage for his rescue of Beatrice in our next episode. Deep down, when he’s not overthinking it, the kid is capable of bravery when it’s asked of him. And it’s wonderful that for all his differences from Greg, both share an impulsive approach to heroism when they decide to help others. It’s almost like they’re related.

Beyond getting a few good digs in at Wirt, Beatrice extends her meanness to Miss Langtree, which makes her pestering of the boys feel less personal: it’s not that she hates them, but she’s irritable with everyone. But we also get the first hint of her warming to our heroes, letting Greg have his fun at the concert and telling Wirt to finally tie his shoes with just a tiny speckle of fondness. While she gets a bigger friendship moment in Mad Love, when she’s essentially forced to get to know Wirt better, it’s neat to see Beatrice gradually come around instead of flipping a switch after a major story event.

We’re about to get our next big Plot Episode, introducing the Beast and adding new doubts about the Woodsman, so a silly episode is just what we need. It’s our third in a row where something sinister turns out to be okay: obviously the gorilla is an example of this, but Mr. Langtree is similarly an intimidating presence who ends up being a regular man. Even the creepy squirrels from the opening shots of the Unknown’s dangers in The Old Grist Mill return as comic relief. We’re fully primed to look for goodness where we see wickedness. Just in time for us to learn to fear merry opera echoing from the woods.

Rock Factsheet

Greg’s spiel on hot dogs might not summon the Rock Fact Rock, but it certainly evokes the stone’s spirit.

Where have we come, and where shall we end?