“This sounds like a very abstract problem.”

For fear of echoing Buck Dewey’s condescending assessment of Steven’s drawing, there’s just something endearing about a cartoon about making art. Animation as a medium is remarkable for how many types of artists are involved: for instance, Steven Universe exists as a collaboration between visual artists, writers, songwriters, actors, singers, composers, and instrumental musicians. It’s a crew that by necessity has a passion for art in many forms, and episodes like Shirt Club let this passion shine. (See also: James Baxter the Horse from Steven Universe’s big brother Adventure Time.)

Many of the artists behind Steven Universe have multiple roles: most famously, its storyboarders are also its scriptwriters. Some boarders even pull triple duty, like guitarist Jeff Liu and voice actor Lamar Abrams, who brings Buck to life. It’s fitting, then, that Shirt Club revolves around guitars and Buck as Steven navigates his way through the perils of publishing his art.

As sincere as this episode is, it’s also ridiculous. The final sequence of Steven as a faux assassin straight up shooting Mayor Dewey in the chest is absurd both as a situation within the show and as something that was allowed to be on the show itself, but sure enough, Steven Universe manages to give a lone gunman sniping spree an emotionally fulfilling resolution.

This scene proves a core lesson of the episode: just because something’s silly doesn’t mean it’s not art. Buck hits the nail on the head when praising Steven’s drawing for its sincerity and naïveté, even if he’s being a wad about it: the Guitar Dad shirt is awesome because it’s a pure expression of a kid looking up to a parent, even if that expression won’t win any medals for aesthetics (and because it won’t). Steven Universe doesn’t need to prove its artistic merits, and the episode is wise to avoid this path and devolving into meta defensiveness, but I appreciate how its structure demonstrates its message.

That Buck recognizes Guitar Dad’s merits but sees its meaning in a negative light speaks volumes about his own relationship with his father, as well as the general adolescent obsession with irony. And let’s face it, Buck is mean in this episode. The other teenagers laugh at the shirt, but don’t necessarily laugh at the subject: Sour Cream is a bit of a jerk to Greg, but Jenny seems to honestly appreciate him even if she thinks he’s funny. Lars is easily swayed, having no opinion on the shirt but seeing the value in at least pretending to appreciate it (which certainly lumps him in with real-life folks who feign an appreciation for art for impress people, if you’ll allow me an overanalysis). But Buck is cruel in a way that’s uncomfortable, but not totally out of character.

In Lars and the Cool Kids, Buck is the most enigmatic of the Cool Kids, as per his mirroring of Garnet. As he repeatedly pulls the rug out from under Lars with a straight face, it’s hard to tell how much he’s intentionally messing with the guy. The same goes for his ordering salad at the Big Donut after examining its salad-free displays. He plays it so cool in both situations (and in general) that some of it has to be an act, and he’s perceptive enough that he has to notice Lars’s barefaced need to please, but he’s such a closed book that we can’t get a read on what’s in his head.



We see more of him in Shirt Club than ever before, and while he’s always been friendly to Steven, we really don’t know him all that well. His father’s an obvious sore spot, and seems to be the only thing that can make him completely crack, whether from embarrassment or being genuinely touched (or feeling remorse or feeling more embarrassed, a tear from this guy could mean anything). It makes for a fascinating “villain” when compared to our emotionally open hero, and he’s really the only kind of antagonist an episode like Shirt Club can have.

Regardless, the fact that Buck is still somewhat out of character (he’s utterly kind to Steven everywhere else in the series) is worth noting, because this is one of the last collaborations between storyboarders Lamar Abrams and Hellen Jo before the latter left Steven Universe. While this team is responsible for some terrific episodes and my all-time favorite scene of the series (the ending of Winter Forecast), they’re also behind House Guest and Fusion Cuisine, which are essentially about evil twins pretending to be Greg and Connie.



For whatever reason, the Abrams/Jo team seems to enjoy bringing out the worst in beloved characters (or inventing negative traits out of nowhere) in ways that wildly diverge from their typical depictions. It allows for drama within a contained story, but in a way that clashes with the consistency of the series; with the exception of Island Adventure and its lesson that emotional and physical abuse is okay sometimes, these kinds of character-nuke episodes are my least favorite. Shirt Club is the best of these divergences by far, in that I can actually deduce Buck’s rationale and because he’s a mysterious character by design, but it’s still an unfortunate trend that happily gets ironed out as the show continues.

(Bear in mind that beyond letting us watch the snow fall, Abrams co-boarded The Answer and Chille Tid and When It Rains, and while it may be a coincidence that each contains a breathtaking scene of a character coming to grips with a scary new environment, I tend to think that he’s really good at framing them. He’s also the only boarder to work on every Onion episode; even if Onion Gang is a dud, Onion as a character certainly isn’t, and I get the feeling we mostly have Abrams to thank for that. I want to give no impressions that this isn’t a brilliant animator.)

Mayor Dewey and the Crystal Gems are here for comic relief, and oh boy do they deliver. Jo and Abrams are brilliant at giving the Gems incongruous background tasks: in Watermelon Steven it’s reading the paper, and here it seems to be assembling IKEA furniture. Their criticisms of Steven’s art and unwillingness to help his strange problem highlight Shirt Club’s casual tone, and they get little moments of self-parody without dipping too deep into meta humor: Garnet’s twinkling shades during a pregnant pause certainly counts, but Amethyst and Pearl’s escalating concerns about Steven’s shirt problem takes the cake.

Mayor Dewey is incredibly, but not unbelievably, lame. Between his outdated slang and his blatant desire to connect with youths (without putting in any actual effort) it’s easy to see Buck’s disdain. Bill’s speech about losing his speech is overshadowed by Steven setting up his sniping position, but is worth paying attention to for Joel Hodgson’s masterful meandering.

And despite his selfish and thoughtless intentions, actually seeing Buck and Steven making shirts is a bunch of fun. It evokes Steven and Greg’s adventures in rocket science from Space Race, but with the wrinkle of Buck demonstrating actual knowledge of the craft to contrast with Steven’s silliness. While the distribution and interpretation of art once it’s complete makes up the episode’s conflict, the creation process itself is joyful and pure, as it should be for a kid making art.



Buck comes around at the end, of course, apologizing to Steven and offering to take guitar lessons. But honestly, the nicer he is to Steven, the weirder his behavior here seems, whether or not he’s a mysterious guy. The best thing I can say about Abrams/Jo character-nuke episodes is that there’s only three of them, and finishing Shirt Club, from that lens, is a huge sigh of relief.

Future Vision!

The Good Lars not only shows Buck wearing the Guitar Dad shirt, but showing off what he’s learned! And he’ll continue to play guitar as one of Sadie Killer’s Suspects, a band that will eventually be managed by Greg himself.



I guess you could read it that way…

On the one hand, watching this after Joy Ride makes Buck’s cruelty even stranger. But on the other, getting to know him better there, and Bill better in Political Power , makes an examination of their relationship a nice coda.

makes Buck’s cruelty even stranger. But on the other, getting to know him better there, and Bill better in , makes an examination of their relationship a nice coda. Tonally, Shirt Club simply doesn’t fit where it’s intended to go. Open Book and Story for Steven at least have their dramatic moments that fit the simmering tension of post- Marble Madness Season 1, but Shirt Club ’s lightness thoroughly deflates the momentum. The Gems casually building furniture makes no sense in this time period, and Pearl and Amethyst’s list of fears don’t even hint at them worrying about Homeworld.

simply doesn’t fit where it’s intended to go. and at least have their dramatic moments that fit the simmering tension of post- Season 1, but ’s lightness thoroughly deflates the momentum. The Gems casually building furniture makes no sense in this time period, and Pearl and Amethyst’s list of fears don’t even hint at them worrying about Homeworld. Still, the reordering leaves us with pre- Jailbreak Garnet, which is a little confusing without context. (I certainly prioritize this minor continuity error lower than harming dramatic tension.)

Garnet, which is a little confusing without context. (I certainly prioritize this minor continuity error lower than harming dramatic tension.) Regardless of your opinions about the order shift, I’m happy to say that Shirt Club is the last of it! No more asterisks!

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

Buck’s strange meanness doesn’t tank Shirt Club down to the bottom, but it does make me less inclined to rewatch what’s an otherwise wonderful episode about art. It’s a shame, but there’s still a lot to love when you get shirt!

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