The Top 5 Episodes of The Wonder Years

Everyone sing along: “Whaaaat would you do if I sang out of tune…”

Most people who know me well know that, along with The Simpsons (at least the first eight or nine seasons), The Wonder Years is one of my favorite shows of all time (the ‘80s original, not the semi-recent reboot). Even if you don’t know me personally but know anything about my books and website (and, if you’re following this blog, you do), this shouldn’t be terribly surprising, because I’m a very nostalgic person, and The Wonder Years is a very nostalgic show. (It may have actually taught me the meaning of the word “nostalgia.”) It was also incredibly relatable, as I was only a year younger than main character Kevin Arnold (because one name wasn’t enough). As I wrote in a previous blog about this show, Kevin’s father was just like my father. His mother was just like my mother. His friends were just like my friends. His girlfriend…okay, I didn’t have a girlfriend in junior high or high school.

Anyway, these are the best of the best, IMO/YMMV/etc. Apologies to fans who loved the later seasons, because only episodes from the first three seasons appear here (hence the photo above). The episodes are listed in chronological order of airdate.

PILOT

It’s somewhat miraculous how much The Wonder Years got right in its very first episode: its mixture of bittersweet nostalgia overlaid with a sardonic voiceover by the present-day version of the main character (something borrowed from the brilliant Stand By Me and, before that, A Christmas Story but not something that had been tried in television yet), the crackling chemistry between its three preteen (soon-to-be teen) child stars, an earworm pop soundtrack from the ‘60s, and writing as rich as the memories the show was attempting to conjure for its grown-up audience, while remaining relatable to the same audience’s kids. (That would be me, Lil’ Mikey, in 1988, when the show first aired after Super Bowl XXII.) In this episode, we got to meet Kevin, the 12-year-old everyman (well, everyboy) powered by Fred Savage’s overacting eyebrows; the gawky though kind Paul Pfeiffer; and Winnie Cooper, every boy’s favorite girl next door and would-be girlfriend. And, lest the viewer got too comfortable and thought this was a regular corny sitcom that was typical for its era (whether the ‘80s when the show first aired or the ‘60s when the show takes place), the show (VERY OLD SPOILER ALERT!) kills off a major character courtesy of the tragedy that was the Vietnam War. (Of course, the show had only aired one episode thus far, so “major character” is a bit of a stretch given his limited screentime.) I think my biggest takeaway of the episode though, at least from the vantage point of my middle-aged self, is the part when the older Kevin’s voiceover, courtesy of the always warm and winsome Daniel Stern, declares the summer before junior high as “the last summer of pure, unadulterated childhood.” That was certainly true for me in the summer of 1989, which is why both my novels take place during this year.

MY FATHER’S OFFICE

When I first watched this episode, it caught me off guard, and I mean that in the best possible way. Prompted by his Dad’s daily grumpiness when he returns home from work, Kevin wants to know what his father does for a living—what he really does, not just superficial qualities like his company’s name and job title. I had to laugh at the scene when Kevin’s friends grill him on the bus about what exactly his father does, and he can’t quite come up with a coherent answer. I know I was in that position more than once when I was a kid. (My Dad was an inspector for American Airlines at JFK, but try explaining that on the playground; I didn’t even know who JFK was.) Turns out Jack, Kevin’s Dad, is a middle manager at NORCOM, which I suspect is a stand-in for Long Island’s Northrup Grumman. (Neal Marlens, one of the creators of the show, is from LI.) Kevin asks his Dad about his job, and his Dad considers it pestering and blows up at him, but then Jack feels bad and brings him into his office the next day to show him firsthand what he does. Kevin is ecstatic not just because he gets some quality time with his old man, but he gets to blow off a day of school. After Jack dodges his boss, he and Kevin have a touching scene bonding together at the office lounge. Reminiscing about the job he wanted as a kid—sea captain—Jack tells his son, “You know, Kevin, you can’t do every silly thing you want to in life.” Kevin begins to understand his Dad’s crankiness at home, and their reconciliation is beautiful. As the two stroll out of the lounge, both beaming after having come to that mutual understanding (and I can’t stress this next part enough), any other television show would’ve ended the episode there. Not The Wonder Years. As they get back to Jack’s office, he’s accosted by his boss for failing to follow up with him on a project, and he’s humiliated in front of his son. Kevin finally gets it. This is the dreaded Real World. I haven’t even mentioned this episode’s beautiful bookend device involving a telescope, but I don’t want to give the whole show away. Needless to say, there’s a reason why this particular episode won its creators a Writers Guild of America Award. If you want to enjoy a brilliant piece of writing—on any medium, not just television—especially regarding story structure, you would do well to watch this episode.

WHOSE WOODS ARE THESE?

This was the first, though certainly not last, episode of The Wonder Years that actually brought me to tears. Kevin and his friends learn that a developer is going to tear down their precious Harper’s Woods, the place where they used to play games as kids and where Kevin and Winnie shared their first kiss (in the pilot episode). After getting an inspiring speech to “fight the man” from his rebellious sister, Kevin and his pals storm a town meeting to overturn the decision to tear down the woods. During this scene, Kevin gives an impassioned speech about how there’s something you can’t see in Harper’s Woods—their childhood—and how this world is “too careless with its memories.” After pleading with the town board not to go through with the woods’ destruction, a man stands up in the audience and vociferously agrees with Kevin, and the rest of the town jumps to its feet and hails Kevin as a local hero who righteously defended their neighborhood. When I first saw this episode, I thought this twist of fate was amazingly corny and unrealistic, but I forgot I was watching The Wonder Years, not a cheesy ‘80s sitcom with easy answers like Small Wonder. This sequence of the town leaping to Kevin’s defense turns out to be a dream, as Kevin fell asleep during the terminally boring meeting.

I can’t describe the rest of the episode without spoiling it, but I’m going to do it anyway just to prove how powerful the story is and explain why I picked this show out of the 115 other episodes. It turns out the kids are powerless, as kids often are, to stop the woods from being razed. On the final night as they come to grips that they failed, they gather in the woods to commiserate, when Winnie randomly starts counting. She wants to play Hide and Seek. One last time. Kevin is at first reluctant, but after Paul’s goading, he gives in, and the two race off into the woods for Winnie to find them. Daniel Stern’s voiceover here is heartbreaking: “And the next day, they tore down Harper’s Woods.” And I thought my novel Déjà View was symbolic about the end of childhood. It’s even more personal for me, because this episode literally aired a few days after my 12th birthday. The episode ends with what I believe to be the only scene in this series that takes place in the future: A pair of kids ride modern-looking skateboards (well, modern for 1989) through an outdoor mall, where Harper’s Woods used to stand, and as the camera pans down, we see etched into the sidewalk, just as they did on a tree in the woods, the three friends’ initials. Judy Collins’ poignant cover of The Beatles’ ballad “In My Life” plays softly in the background. Fade to black. All in all, a perfect episode of television.

HOW I’M SPENDING MY SUMMER VACATION

The final episode of the second season is actually the very next episode after “Whose Woods Are These?” So we get two brilliant episodes of television back to back. (We truly were spoiled in the ‘80s!) I watch this episode every year at this time because it’s about the long school year coming to an end. What starts off as a deceptively simple storyline—Kev pretty much gets ditched by his friends for the summer—turns into something more profound towards the end, and to watch that switch is a delight every time. I especially love the nod to The Graduate, as, to take a break from cleaning out the garage, Kevin lays on his back on a folding chair in his driveway wearing a snorkeling mask. He’s rescued by the doldrums of summer chores by Winnie, who invites him to her parents’ annual summer-kickoff party. Only, she also ignores him there, until Kevin finally explodes (there’s only so much a poor boy can handle), and she reveals (more like implies) that the reason she’s been so moody is because her parents are getting divorced. I love the final line of this show, voiced once again by the outstanding Daniel Stern (it really wasn’t just a voiceover; it was a major character of the show): “I pretty much stayed close to home. I mowed Mr. Ermin’s lawn. I went fishin’ with my Dad. I watched a man walk on the moon. I considered myself…pretty lucky.” When I first saw this episode, I thought he considered himself lucky because he got to watch Neil Armstrong on T.V. (Hey, I was just a kid myself.) The older Kevin is obviously referring to the unspoken fact that his parents are still together. Poor Winnie. Side note: This episode features The Flamingos’ transcendent “I Only Have Eyes for You,” my favorite “oldie” of all time. (I consider oldies anything recorded before the ‘70s.)

SUMMER SONG

This is actually the first episode of the third season, so in a way, we got three back-to-back-to-back classic episodes from The Wonder Years in 1989. (What a year!) First things first: This show contradicts the one that came before by having Kevin take a trip with his family and best friend Paul to Ocean City, Anywhere. If you watched “How I’m Spending My Summer Vacation,” you learned that Paul had to go away with his family for the entire summer and wouldn’t come back until Labor Day. Also, as I quoted at the end of my last episode description, Kevin said he spent that summer “close to home.” Oops! Luckily, this episode is lovable enough to forgive those continuity errors. (After all, the two episodes were written by different writers.) At Ocean City, Paul gets sick (again), and Kevin is left on his own. (I’m always amused when Paul is shocked that he “must have eaten fish” at a seafood restaurant.) On the beach, Kevin meets an older girl named Teri played by Holly Sampson, who would go on to appear in a small role as the pregnant student in the seminal Pump Up the Volume. Unfortunately, she would later move on to porn. (She wouldn’t be the first child actor to have a rough time.) Kevin and young Holly have a cute date on the pier—complete with taking pictures in one of those tiny photobooths that used to be in every arcade before smart phones with cameras were invented. This scene always reminds me of Daniel and Ali’s Golf ‘N Stuff date in The Karate Kid. It’s revealed at the end that Teri is a military brat and needs to move out of state soon but promises to keep in touch through the tried-and-true, old-fashioned art of letter writing. Kevin returns home and indeed becomes pen pals with Teri—for one letter. Daniel Stern’s clincher of an ending voiceover gets me every time: “I keep that letter in an old shoebox… It was the only letter she ever wrote me.”

Honorable Mention: GOODBYE

I’m awarding this episode an Honorable Mention instead of including it in the Top 5 because it’s technically the finale of a multipart episode, and to truly understand its impact, you have to watch more than just this show. It’s revealed earlier in the series that Kevin is having trouble in math class, and despite trying his best and studying hard, he just can’t seem to improve his grade. He decides to work with his teacher Mr. Collins after school for extra help, until one day the teacher is too busy. Kevin is offended and purposefully bombs his test in an immature act of “revenge” (more like self-sabotage). (If you don’t want to be spoiled, read no further, though the title of this episode should give you a hint.) Kevin later learns that Mr. Collins died from a heart attack (seriously, no one was safe on this show), and the reason his teacher was resistant to further tutoring sessions was because he was too sick. But, through a kind, postmortem act on Mr. Collins’ part, he left a note before he passed letting Kevin retake the test. Of course, filled with shame and regret, this time Kevin aces it. When he hands it over to the substitute teacher (the loathsome assistant principal), he delivers this knockout line: “You don’t need to grade it; it’s an A.” Then, just before he leaves the classroom, he turns around to see the ghost of his teacher sitting at his desk. Addressing his absent mentor, Kevin says, “Good job, Mr. Collins.” This episode earned the show more well-deserved Emmys, for both writing and directing.

One reason why I love this episode (or run of episodes; as I mentioned, it was a multistory arc) is because I had something similar happen to me with my own junior high math teacher, though he didn’t die. I had difficulty in the class and went for extra help for a big test that was approaching. One day, I was supposed to attend a small assembly awarding my Technology class for creating a tribute to the heroes of The Gulf War (or something), but I didn’t want to go. I felt my math class was more important. When a teacher interrupted my class looking for me to attend the assembly, my math teacher defended me, muttering, “Get out,” as in, “He’s here now with me, doing something more important.” It worked. The teacher turned around and left. (I was yelled at afterwards by my Technology teacher for failing to show up at the assembly, and I didn’t receive my award because of it, but that’s another story.) Later, I had to miss a math class reviewing one of our assignments because I had a concert performance with the school band. Afterwards, I tracked my math teacher down in the halls and asked what we did in class that day, and he bitterly replied: “Well, you missed it, Michael. You were too busy playing with your little instruments.” I was taken aback, and I could tell he regretted his words as soon as he said them. I handed him my assignment and insisted he review it anyway. He reluctantly took the paper from my hand and looked it over. After a minute or so, he simply smiled and handed it back to me. “It’s perfect,” he said.

Which of your favorite episodes of The Wonder Years did I miss? I’m sure there were plenty in the later seasons that I didn’t include here. As usual, sound off in the comments!

MTP

P.S.: If I wasn’t so lazy, I’d do full write-ups of the following four episodes, making this list, including my Honorable Mention, a proper Top 10. (Similar to “Goodbye,” these would also qualify as Honorable Mentions, though I like “Goodbye” more.)

CHRISTMAS

The first holiday episode of the show—and still the best. This show introduced me to Joni Mitchell’s heartbreaking “River,” one of the saddest Christmas songs of all time.

ON THE SPOT

Winnie stars in a school production of Our Town, with Kevin and Paul working the spotlights overhead. When Kevin flakes out, I love how Paul overreacts: “You had ONE job!” It was the first time I ever heard that line.

THE GLEE CLUB

Guest starring a then-unknown Dustin Diamond pre-Screech from Saved by the Bell, this is probably the funniest episode of the entire series. The first time I saw it, the hilarious finale had me laughing for a full five minutes. I’m not joking.

DADDY’S LITTLE GIRL

Kevin’s sister turns 18 and splits, bringing much angst to father Jack. As a father of two girls myself now, this episode hits a little harder.

P.P.S.: At nearly 3,000 words, this was one of my longest blogs ever.

P.P.P.S.: Next week’s blog: Updates!

P.P.P.P.S.: Déjà View is now available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble:

AmazonBarnes & Noble