Green Eggs and Ham (Series) - Complete Review in Rhyme

MAJOR

SPOILER ALERT

To those of you who tuned in to The Screened Word,

it may come as no surprise when you may have heard

of a few Dr. Seuss reviews I had shared,

on which I came fully excited and prepared.

I speak of, as I reminisce and relax,

‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’ and ‘The Lorax’.

But how about the movies based on the Dr. Suess tales?

To me, Jim Carrey’s Grinch didn’t go off the rails,

but for integrity’s sake, let’s look at these details.

Some are CGI, others in live-action,

and for all their efforts, they captured but a fraction

of what an impact the stories left behind.

Horton Hears a Who’s an exception; it combined

adequate acting, rich artwork, and fun writing

to create a film that’s faithful and inviting.

Be that as it may, the responses stayed the same:

these films had their moments of fleeting fame,

but they all tried too hard – yeah, real sublime –

to stretch the plot to an hour and a half runtime,

mostly with filler that functioned in conflict

with what Dr. Seuss’ vision meant to depict.

Even when we look at Seuss’ stories for what they are,

we’d look at them as cutesy and sometimes bizarre,

and forget that they carried weight on the inside

that’d add more to what each story can provide,

besides the rhymes and styles we’d see on the outside.

So, what does this say about Green Eggs and Ham,

a Netflix show that’s called a two-season grand slam?

As Seuss stories go, this one was straightforward.

With a wacky yet modest plot, it lunged forward

with an upfront, excitable Sam-I-Am

encouraging a grouch to try green eggs and ham,

despite him having repetitively declined,

and see whether just one bite might change his mind.

Because the films generally achieved mixed results

and, as a result, became subject to insults,

what would an entire TV series do?

Was this guaranteed to fall flat on its face, too?

Well, I am pulling no one’s legs here when I say

that Green Eggs and Ham, in its televised display,

and with its story broadening with extra sides,

served up a tasty smorgasbord of thrills and rides

without losing sight of the story within.

Now that I’ve explained it, where do I begin?

It played out similarly to the book,

with Sam-I-Am doing everything it took

to share his dish with the grouch as he passed him by,

who, in this version, was named Guy-Am-I.

However, it’s the tip of the iceberg this time,

and the show’s creativity in its airtime

was innovative enough to be in its prime.

The show roped in the same beats as the story

while sprinkling this retelling with the glory

of Dr. Seuss’ visual aesthetic

and clever verses at their most poetic,

only to have gradually gone further along

with these ideas by throwing in more that went strong.

It even snuck in some winks to Seuss’ work throughout.

In season one, Sam-I-Am and Guy went about

with their usual high jinks, and triumphs as well,

when the wreckage they left behind befell

an unsuspecting fish family, who always tried

to settle down before being tossed aside.

As the mother checked on her kids, she exclaimed

‘One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish,’ as they’re so named.

And there was one instance where Sam-I-Am,

who did nothing as he dealt with the cops but scram,

ended up in the middle of a school

where a graduation ceremony – how cool –

occurred. Sam, to the graduates, had this to send:

Oh, the places you'll go! Hopefully, not jail. The end!

See, these felt like the snowflake from Jim Carrey’s Grinch.

I love seeing this show make such nods in a pinch

‘cause it makes Seussian world-building look like a cinch!

Speaking of which, it would only have expanded,

but I’ll hop to that soon, to be candid.

Now, it’s one thing to praise the show’s style and the like.

How ‘bout the writing and characters? How’re they like?

Well, looking at the entirety of the show

and what it accomplished from the get-go,

the results felt like when you take a grade-school poem

and rewrite it as a Homeric poem.

It maintained the integrity of the book,

and when you give expanding the story a look,

it’d have been so easy to add as we see fit

what is either too adult or would not fit.

Here? All that’s added to ‘Green Eggs and Ham’ did fit.

The additions were so stylish and stunning

that it made the book, which had hit the ground running,

look like a CliffNotes version of the real deal.

Story-wise, how did the show altogether feel?

The first season still maintained the book’s focus

on Sam, Guy, and the dish, plus the hocus-pocus

Sam used to convince Guy, who’s not one to dally,

to try the dish, which he did in the finale.

As for the add-ons? For the sake of inspection,

let me break it down to you section by section.

Sam-I-Am, who, in this show, struggled to have friends,

ran into Guy, who had inventive trends.

Out of desperation to have to go places,

they accidentally switched each other’s briefcases,

leaving Sam with experiments seen as a laugh,

and Guy with a rare beast called a Chickeraffe.

What happened was, Sam broke the beast out of a zoo

with a great deal of stealth so they’d fly the coup,

and a promise to take him back to his home.

Reuniting with Guy, they agreed to roam

to Sam’s destination for the Chickeraffe,

who’s named Mr. Jenkins, flexible and a half,

as delightful and chipper as a pup,

and felt like the Seuss version of Kevin from Up.

But as the three of them set forth on their trail,

a couple of bad guys were hot on their tail.

McWinkle, the blue one, was most committed.

Gluntz, the yellow rookie, would’ve somewhat fitted.

Mr. Jenkins was their target, of course,

and what struck me ‘bout this unscrupulous workforce

was how McWinkle, when he wasn’t busy conspiring,

planned to cap his ‘one last job’ before retiring.

But they’re not the only ones looking for the bird.

There’s also the egotistical Snerz, who heard

of the zoo heist and ordered the capture

of the Chickeraffe for his festive rapture.

What did he want with the Chickeraffe? Easy.

He planned to put him up for everyone to see

as the topmost addition to his haul

of exotic beasts with their heads stuck on the wall.

Only, in this case, it’s not their heads alone.

It’s just a menagerie most overblown

as the displayed animals were to sit

and stick their heads out through picture frames, and that’s it.

In hindsight, this threw in some clever silliness

to compliment Snerz’s sense of chilliness.

Though in the same league as Aloysius O'Hare,

Snerz, besides having a critter act as his hair,

had plenty of color and energy to spare.

He also was Snerz Co.’s CEO,

whose approval Guy anticipated on the go.

He was approved to go when he put in place

inventions that he made past first base

even though they’d literally blow up in his face.

Meanwhile, also chosen to go was Michellee

for her jar of beans, which she counted to a tee.

While she was busy with that, she kept a close eye

on her daughter, E.B., who she expected to comply

under her watch and not get too much of a thrill

on their trip to Snerz Co. in Meepville.

Since Guy and Michellee shared the destination,

they both bumped into each other on occasion,

as did Sam and E.B., leaving them both to bond

bit by bit as a relationship between then dawned.

However, it made Michellee and EB

more susceptible to matters from which to flee

concerning Sam and Guy’s run-ins with the cutthroat,

such as a dreaded bounty hunter called the Goat.

With Sam and his friends having so much on their plate,

would they’ve finished their jobs in one piece at this rate?

The next season, entitled “The Second Serving”,

explored all the new objectives worth reserving,

while the story growth took an unlikely turn.

The first season felt like the book with an upturn

thanks to its faithfulness and creativity.

This season, with a more heightened activity,

felt more like a sequel to Green Eggs and Ham

with a spy theme to suit our heroes being in a jam.

This time, Sam was prompted to track down his mom,

not just ‘cause he lost her, which was his biggest qualm,

but because his latest meal of green eggs and ham

tasted just like how his mother made them. Wham!

Sam then followed the source of the food with his friends,

even if it had them run into dead ends.

Fortunately, it did not take them long

before she unexpectedly came along.

She became a spy and a master of the scam

and when revealed, her real name was Pam-I-Am.

Sam was tickled that this meeting came to fruition

yet also oblivious to Pam’s mission:

She meant to claim an orb called the Moo-Lacka-Moo,

an explosive device…that’s sought by others, too.

Among them was Marilyn Blouse – wowsers! –

and her partner-in-crime, Phillip Trousers,

a narcissist who stayed one step ahead of Pam.

Pam was more focused on this than on Sam,

who wanted to catch up with her, sometimes with food,

as he mistakenly did more harm than good.

Meanwhile, because Guy-Am-I and Michellee

grew as close to boyfriend and girlfriend as can be,

E.B., who took a liking to Guy, joined him

as he got a new job and set out on a whim.

With this new job, Guy was asked to uphold

his inventing techniques as his dream’d taken hold.

You remember the world-building I talked about?

Here’s where it ultimately began to sprout.

While E.B. and Guy continued to connect,

it’s in Zookia where Guy’s work got respect.

And as for Pam, Sam, and the Moo-Lacka-Moo,

the Dooka of Yookia was who Pam gave his due.

You read that right: these nations, which clashed in outlook,

were the same ones from The Butter Battle Book.

And as the heroes settled in their positions,

they each gradually jibed with the conditions

concerning a massive, ongoing war

between Yookia and Zookia. What’s this for?

We know this, but they each authorized a crackdown

over whether to butter their toast up or down.

You know, the source of these conflicts wowed me the most.

I mean, get a load of this: green eggs, ham, toast?

It’s weird how these plots and fights for the greater good

all unfolded over some breakfast food.

But wait! It got even more exciting.

While Guy was busy with invention-righting,

E.B. snuck off out of curiosity over a wall

at the edge of Zookia that was quite tall.

On top of that giant wall was a tree,

plus a moody, engaging boy for her to see.

Outside of being a rule-breaker, just because,

his toast customs clued E.B. in on who he was.

They both met up more, but their further meetings,

plus Pam’s spy tactics and the two nations’ beatings,

caused the heroes to see such curious components

as their friends sympathizing with their opponents.

Would the heroes, though not without plots entangled,

have cleaned the mess over which their nations wrangled?

Admittedly, for what this season displayed,

it felt less like a sequel that was made

of Green Eggs and Ham for how well it played

and more like a crossover phenomenon

that used what The Butter Battle Book touched upon.

But throughout both seasons, this show stayed exciting

because of the visual styles and writing

brought about through its ingenious interweaving,

which further showed how looks can be deceiving.

The writers and animators might have known they’d make

a Dr. Seuss TV show, make no mistake,

and stretched the story out as such for its own sake

in the thirteen episodes of its first season

and the ten episodes of its second season

while maintaining, not forgetting, the core aspects

of what made Dr. Suess and his subjects

so iconic, down to the themes, designs,

characters, and imaginative storylines.

They did more than do the story justice.

They might have done Dr. Seuss himself justice

by sticking to what worked so well in the book

while adding new elements in every nook

and cranny that complimented the story

as its scope did. Things went quite hunky-dory,

for this show honored Seuss with creations to weave

and also carried a few tricks up its sleeve,

even by TV standards. Out of thin air,

Green Eggs and Ham, the show, demonstrated with flair

how you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover,

as Guy learned not to judge the dish by its cover.

But it’s not just the dish where it took chances.

It concerned the characters and circumstances.

What you would think would enact a naysay

concerning them blew me, as it might you, away.

At first glance, Sam-I-Am seemed normally upbeat,

nice, and hopeful, but here’s what gave him cold feet.

First, he knew of no one who’d say to him, ‘hurrah.’

and one reason Sam-I-Am went so gaga

over the green eggs and ham was that way back when,

this was his mother’s specialty dish. Amen!

The dish was all that Sam remembered her by

before she left him, and he was compelled to try

many variants in the hopes that his taste

would have sensed his mother’s recipe posthaste.

That way, he’d have found his way back to his mother

and rejoined her one way or another.

That twist with Sam was well-done on the first go-round,

but the next one was what knocked me on the ground.

Sam-I-Am’s long-term plan seemed well-intentioned

with the Chickeraffe, who, as I mentioned,

he called Mr. Jenkins. Once he broke him out

of the zoo, the two of them roamed about

so Sam would’ve brought him home before long.

His long-term plan had always been just that, right?

Wrong.

What Sam planned to do, as we were to discover,

was to deliver him while undercover

straight to Snerz, the so-called ‘animal lover.’

When I saw that, I felt floored and slack-jawed

by Sam’s plot and true nature. I mean, my God!

It blew my expectations out of the water,

and the buttons could not have been hotter,

yet such unpredictabilities guided us

through the depths of the story and provided us

with more than what we thought was mandatory

with the original ‘Green Eggs and Ham’ story.

Plus, you think that reveal was shocking enough? Well…

Shortly after that came another bombshell,

this time with McWinkle and Gluntz. Hold on to your hat!

During the bad guys’ pursuits and chitchat,

their true purpose with the Chickeraffe, just like that,

was revealed as they’re revealed as something more.

As Gluntz showed, what did the ‘Bad’ of ‘Bad Guys’ stand for?

Bureau of Animal Defense.

I kid you not.

Though they’re intimidating and whatnot,

though they’re called ‘bad guys’ and looking for a haul,

McWinkle and Gluntz were not malicious at all.

Yes, they hunted down Sam, Guy, and the bird,

but they hightailed it with the clues they inferred

and their eyes on Mr. Jenkins, plus Sam though him,

so they’d propel themselves one step closer to him

not to capture him, but to rescue him.

This twofold reveal flipped my notions upside-down

and with such fresh injections, this show went to town.

But it’s not like Sam-I-Am deceived forever.

He realized his need for his friends more than ever

after his journey with Mr. Jenkins and Guy,

so, as he engaged in matters of do or die,

he surprised his friends with tricks most outré

when he seemed to diverge in every way.

I like how, when he wasn’t all cheeriness and thrills,

Sam-I-Am expressed some craftiness in his skills,

good and bad. I knew he would have been many things,

but not a con artist who pulled some strings.

As for Guy? In the book, he was filled with dismay,

and dismissed others in his own grouchy way.

Here in the show, he tried to be an inventor.

After crafting constant failures front and center,

these turnouts made him come apart at the seams

and wonder if he was cut out for his dreams.

He still meant to head for Meepville, although

it wasn’t to be an inventor on the go;

being a paint watcher, to him, felt apropos.

In other words, he applied to watch paint dry.

Sounds depressingly boring yet also wry,

but even that didn’t do it for Guy.

But the trek that Guy, Sam, and Jenkins took with ease

besides Sam, his favorite meal, and his pleas,

led to Guy-Am-I becoming more wide-eyed

from his friendships and walking on the wild side

as his newfound appreciations implied.

Before trying the green eggs and ham, for example,

Guy’s fondness with Michellee grew quite ample

as she and E.B. went to Meepville - that’s no fun -

to seek out a promotion for a job well-done.

Plus, besides Sam urging Guy to try his green meals,

their ties brought to mind Planes, Trains, and Automobiles.

About Michellee, she’d seem like a stuck-up mom,

with her needs to watch E.B. and remain calm

while she ventured out so they’d never be apart.

Right? Well, she had E.B.’s best interests at heart.

What happened was, she promised E.B.’s late dad,

and her late husband, to make sure nothing bad

would have happened to her like it did to him.

Plus, as proof that she was anything but prim,

she was a former artist who loved to paint,

and what she considered a masterpiece so quaint

was a 50-foot tall painting of flowers

that soared upwards and showcased her visual powers.

Even E.B. was completely entranced by it,

and since it’s her mother’s painting, she’d not deny it.

Pam-I-Am, however, was another story.

What seemed like a case of undercover glory

masked a deeper instinct as she went on the run

from her enemies and meant to protect her son.

She was a spy before she was a mother,

so with loose ends up one side and down the other,

she had to leave poor Sam when he was a baby

with a promise that she’d come back to him…maybe.

Whether or not she saw her abandonment just,

her quest with the Moo-Lakka-Moo, as she discussed,

was among her missions as she did what she must,

even when she became unsure who to trust.

Even the Dooka of Yookia seemed suspect.

While her accomplishments did gain her respect,

especially from Sam, their sense of connection,

once it budded, gave her periods of reflection

until it challenged her sense of direction.

At first, E.B. seemed slightly basic and one-note,

but her childlike nature was worthy of note.

She was bright and always hungry for adventure

even if she dealt with one misadventure,

whether with outside forces or Michellee,

and dealt with it as hopefully as can be.

But she came into her own in season two,

when Guy being her guardian muddled her point of view,

and her narrative contributions have flexed

after meeting who I’m about to address next.

As for the boy E.B. met on top of the wall,

his name’s Looka, he liked poetry, and above all,

he revealed himself as the prince of Yookia.

Ever since his home fought against Zookia,

he reacted to such battles with confusion,

for he believed there was some delusion

behind the years-long grudge that both nations held.

And as his relationship with E.B. swelled,

they both uncovered some history withheld

which they thought could yield resolution to the war

if also test their ties more than ever before.

Of course, some characters felt more blatant

with their personalities, whose growth seemed latent.

Snerz showed off with his flair, greed, needs, and collection,

while the Goat stood out with his frightening inspection.

And I felt the zeal from the Dooka of Yookia

and not just the pride from the Dookess of Zookia.

But it never made them less engaging; it works.

For their one-note characteristics, their quirks

amounted to being among their biggest perks

to help them stand out in the realms of the show.

And let’s not forget the moments throughout the show

where other poor guys got the short end of the stick,

and not just the fish family who got sidelined quick.

With McWinkle and Gluntz, for one such survey,

everytime any part of his plans went astray,

it left poor McWinkle’s fur to gradually gray.

But to help my elaborations be briefer,

what made this show a gem for me is a threefer.

With that said, I am now under the inclination

to address number one: the animation.

When you think of Green Eggs and Ham for TV,

you’d look at this small screen take on the classic tale and see

the usual displays of color and light

just like with any TV show, right?

It’s different, all right, but for the right reasonings.

This show surprised me with visual seasonings

that were so smooth, crisp, colorful, and rich

that it made Dr. Seuss’ drawing styles, the likes of which

were made iconic from his classic books,

come alive throughout the show thanks to the hooks

of Chuck-Jones-or-Disney-Renaissance-style looks.

Plus, whenever things got serious or quiet,

the show captured the tension and disquiet

from the emotional baggage and mistakes

the characters dealt with as they raised the stakes,

as well as all the energy most chaotic

and riotous, to the point that it felt hypnotic.

My guess is that this show lunged forth in streaming

and wasn’t broadcast, so I felt like I was dreaming

for the animation to be this breathtaking.

Regardless, the idea that such an undertaking

was achieved by the artists as they breathed

new life into drawings of a wreathed,

popular classic like Green Eggs and Ham

continues to leave me awestruck. Yes, I am!

And another thing. Judging from what I’d seen,

when I think ‘Green Eggs and Ham’, the show’s small screen

beauts might come to mind, ‘sides the pages in-between.

Yes, the animation was that pristine!

As for the second of the show’s things of beauty,

the voice acting went beyond the call of duty.

But it’s not just the acting that went unbeaten.

Just look. Michael Douglas, the late Diane Keaton?

With stars like them in here, the deal they’d sweeten!

Starting with Adam Devine as Sam-I-Am,

he portrayed the hero of ‘Green Eggs and Ham’

with sheer cheer, wackiness and even pathos

to spice up ‘Green Eggs and Ham’ like a bathos.

He nailed his optimism and was also downbeat

when distraught or upset without missing a beat.

Once again, the rest of the actors in the show

did wonders for their characters on the go.

Michael Douglas seamlessly voiced his gruffiness,

not to mention some surprising fluffiness,

through Guy-Am-I, for he had a ton on his mind,

whether it was his inventions, Sam as he dined,

sudden greetings that threw him a curveball,

or unforeseen snags like E.B. over the wall.

You know this, in case you’re aware?

I do not like them here or there,

I do not like them anywhere.

I do not like green eggs and ham.

I do not like them, Sam-I-Am.

When you hear Douglas deliver this line,

you’d be shocked just what a fine

bout of rage he conveyed with it. How he did shine!

In the book, the line was said with vibes of a grump.

In the show, Guy-Am-I said it with a lump

of scorching indignation in his voice

once he ripped Sam to shreds for his bad choice.

For what a chipper voice Michellee had,

who’d have thought it’s Diane Keaton who’d done her glad

after being made a legend by The Godfather?

Despite Michellee’s quirks, her voice was no bother

for Keaton conveyed it with sincerity,

and expressed her worries with clarity

while balancing it out with how lighthearted

she could’ve been from where she started.

Even if Michellee wasn’t conveyed enough

as a character to land the right stuff

for this character’s personality skills

outside of her bean-counting and painting skills,

Keaton, with her voice work, helped her come alive

as her versatility fueled her drive.

Ilana Glazer, as Michellee’s daughter,

E.B., played her role like a duck takes to water.

She innately captured her excited nature,

and sounded frenetic and hopeful in nature.

But while Glazer helped E.B. sound childlike for sure,

her instincts helped her also sound mature.

I also have a soft spot, I surmise,

for the voice actors who played the ‘bad guys’,

McWinkle and Gluntz. Let’s start with Jillian Bell.

She dished out her more chipper vocal tones well

to emphasize Gluntz’s wacky overtones,

plus her absentmindedness concerning the unknowns.

But for all her fabulous zingers, Jeffrey Wright

provided dignity that’s worth a spotlight.

He played McWinkle with evident conviction

as he masterfully framed McWinkle with the depiction

of a committed follower who’s devout

in his background and his need for a good turnout.

As McWinkle prepped to retire, as he’d recount,

Wright’s voice told me he tried to make his amount

of seconds to finish his ‘one last job’ count.

While he and Bell both felt like an odd couple,

their performances together were so supple

that they’d feel like they’d make a good power couple,

like McWinkle and Gluntz would’ve done anything

it took to get their job done with zing.

Sometimes, their impressions felt like Bonnie and Clyde,

if not compared with Mulder and Scully with pride.

Frankly, Patrica Clarkson was also a hoot.

Playing a torn mother, who’s also a spy to boot,

she mastered Pam-I-Am’s instincts and skillsets

plus her motherliness mixed with past regrets.

Much like Jeffery Wright when he played McWinkle,

Clarkson sounded experienced, but with a sprinkle

of nobility, when Pam lunged forth as a spy.

Making a scene with duties with which to soar high,

she helped Pam sound like she knew every in and out,

every gizmo, and, without being in doubt,

flashed on the next step to take in her mission.

Yet, when it came to her maternal condition,

Clarkson’s mellow, tender nature through Pam-I-Am

would’ve shown her still-there devotion to Sam-I-Am.

Revisiting what she thought she left behind,

Pam sounded guilty for having felt so blind

to leave Sam-I-Am in an orphanage post-haste

despite meaning to leave him safe, if not misplaced.

Clarkson conveyed such inner turmoil with ease,

especially when Pam told Sam that her expertise,

due to her dealing with danger at every turn,

would’ve roped Sam in the crossfire in turn.

Let’s also give credit to Darren Criss.

Looka, E.B.’s beau, couldn’t sound better than this.

He sounded like your everyday teenage boy,

but what Criss snuck in is what I enjoy.

There’s something about his inflections and fears

that made Looka sound wise beyond his years,

just like E.B., and, though it’d surround him,

would’ve looked past the prejudices that’d bound him;

the bigger picture is what he’d see around him.

The Dukes of both Yookia and Zookia?

Their voice actors were worthy of either -ookia!

Rita Moreno as the Dookess of Zookia

infused her role with the sheer royalty

she would’ve conveyed, even in her utmost loyalty,

along with manners of a prima donna.

Of course, even while in her zealous nirvana,

Moreno still played her with concern for Zookia,

despite being blinded by her distaste for Yookia.

Hector Elizondo, on the other hand,

as the Dooka of Yookia, expressed a command

and painted him as a bumbling kind of fella,

almost like the king from Cinderella.

Even then, though, Elizondo’s voice work,

coupled with the graceful animation at work,

helped make the Dooka look more dignified

in his stance, especially when applied

to his familial ties, like with Looka, his son.

Oh, what wonders the voice performances have done!

Eddie Izzard must’ve had the time of his life

playing Snerz in all his contempt, mirth, and strife.

Outside of owning up to his boastful outlook,

Snerz even sounded professional for a crook,

and it was all brought out with flair by Izzard,

even when Snerz sounded as slick as a lizard.

We’d see through his high-and-mighty demeanor

for we knew his motives made him look meaner,

but Izzard’s money’s worth will not be less greener.

Now, let me shed light on one standout in ‘Mouse’,

when Sam and Guy ended up in the big house.

The ‘mouse’ in question bemoaned as he sang and spoke

of his background with theatrics to evoke.

Sam and Guy, however, nicknamed him ‘Squeaky’,

‘cause they heard him just in squeaks, which was quite cheeky.

But his dramatic bravura, which went on to throb,

emulated Jean Valjean from Les Misérables.

But what helped hone this appearance

was the vocal work provided with adherence

by the famous Broadway star, Daveed Diggs.

‘Green Eggs and Hamilton’? Bring on the jigs!

While Sam, Guy, and ‘Squeaky’’s methods of exemption

took a page out of The Shawshank Redemption,

I felt for the poor mouse’s condition

as I silently wished him luck in his mission.

And last but not least, Keegan Michael-Key

soared through his role as the narrator to a tee.

He took on his role with evident spirit

and as he told the tale, once you hear it,

he’d sound as beguiling as he was beguiled,

almost like an excitable child.

But whenever the narrator mellowed out,

his ponderations of what went about

in the story evoked an inner wisdom

that captured his omniscient system.

Plus, in more humorous moments, he broke the fourth wall

and remarked on weird events, should there be at all,

as if he stood with the characters in the tale

and experienced all the chaos that’d entail.

Heck, they sometimes even spoke to each other,

adding flavor to the narrator’s smother.

But the real reason the narration shone in time?

Yep. Everything the narrator said was in rhyme.

Much like Anthony Hopkins from Jim Carrey’s Grinch,

Keegan Michael-Key had to hone the slightest pinch

of the structure and rhythm of the Seuss prose

and fit it in the artistry to which it owes.

Hearing what he said in all two seasons, it shows.

Finally, the third strength that’s worth highlighting

I might have said, but will say once more: the writing.

Again, it’d be so easy to take the story

as Seuss wrote it and run with it in its glory

like in Dr. Seuss on the Loose. But instead,

this show flipped writing conventions on their head

and did more than stretch the book to a TV show.

The writing expanded the scope and helped it grow

as a work of art beyond belief with callbacks

and connections to other Seuss tales in its tracks,

plus bombshell moments of characterization,

resulting in a monolithic creation

that did Seuss justice, and that’s putting it lightly.

This was one of those works that had shown brightly

that to be faithful to an original source,

whether it’s books, films, TV shows, or plays, of course,

you don’t have to stress over how it’s written,

structured, performed, or whatever leaves you smitten.

What matters the most is to prioritize

the spirit, essence, and themes, through compromise,

of the original story and embellish it

as it’d best fit its bound format so you’d relish it.

Some of the plays by Rodgers and Hammerstein

found further life in film and are favorites of mine.

I caught on to how The Man in the High Castle

suited TV more by, without a hassle,

expanding on the ideas, the concept,

the characters, and the world through which they crept.

Green Eggs and Ham benefitted the same way.

It flourished on TV because of the leeway

it had with its designs, rhymes, and storytelling,

with their faithfulness making it quite compelling.

But the plots, characters, and many a bombshell?

With these handy for Green Eggs and Ham, they’d propel

it into the pantheon of Seuss adaptations.

There’s nothing else that’d warrant correlations

with Green Eggs and Ham except the ’66 Grinch.

The series is that good, if just by a half-inch.

But while the expansions were inventive,

look at what the first season served while attentive.

Sure, its thirteen episode titles look light,

but what they carried underneath set them alight.

You’ll notice that every episode title,

while referencing circumstances most vital,

referenced with whom or from where Sam, from his outlook,

said green eggs and ham could be eaten in the book.

Wow! As far as general faithfulness was concerned,

this told me that no stone was left unturned.

Hopping back to the ‘with whom or from where’,

Sam scored green eggs and ham to eat and try to share

with Guy in every season one episode,

telling him it’s a dish made more à la mode

with whoever or in wherever he’d want,

tying into each episode’s focus and jaunt.

Every time, Guy defiantly responded with

“I won’t eat them in…” or “I won’t eat them with…”

just like in the book, again with noticeable pith.

As for the second season’s episodes,

each of their titles evoked more spy modes.

They referenced espionage classics with pride,

including James Bond, as most of them implied,

so their references were more on the fun side.

What’s more, once I lunged into the second season

and witnessed the story, characters, and reason

for the ongoing war between the two nations,

the result in groupings and ruminations…

may have made this feel, again, like a crossover,

given its foreign conflicts and deft changeover.

But it’s clear the writers and animators took

sweet advantages with The Butter Battle Book

just like they had done with Green Eggs and Ham.

What I’ll say next also enriched this program.

To start, the show got the ball rolling with a clue

besides what the Yooks and Zooks were to do:

it concerned the two nations’ shared origins, too.

One of the most charming episodes of the show,

‘To Yookia With Love’, had E.B. and Looka go

and spend a night all across Yookia

since E.B. had already toured through Zookia.

Then, Looka thought to sneak himself and E.B.

into Yookia’s local museum and see

the historical patterns that made up Yookia.

But they learned more than just the facade of Yookia.

Behind an ‘under construction’ sign awaited

a closed-off room on which they fixated.

Once inside, E.B. and Looka unveiled some walls

and saw the two nations’ true origins and brawls.

They both used to be one nation called Ookia,

until they split apart as Yookia and Zookia.

Two siblings, who ruled Ookia, got into a fight,

and yes, it was about how to eat toast right,

whether it’s with the butter side up or down,

and the siblings’ toast-centered fight spread throughout town.

With mass warfare and capricious game plans charted,

it was thus how the Butter Battle got started

as the sibs, the Dooka and Dookess, outsmarted.

This was a most creative exploration

of Yookia and Zookia’s sense of formation

while keeping true to the countermeasures

of their inspirations in equal measures.

Dr. Seuss created the two warring nations

to allude to West and East Germany’s stations

as they were still in the middle of the Cold War.

But wait! Regarding such resemblances, there’s more.

In the second season - and series - finale,

once the Yooks and Zooks had all the troops to rally,

the ultimate outcome came to feel more

like the ultimate outcome of the Cold War.

Let me explain how. The Butter Battle Book,

both the book and the 80s special, took a took

at how they thought the war could have ended

with nothing; they wrapped up open-ended.

They left their audiences begging for more,

unaware that, regarding the Cold War,

Seuss and the artists didn’t know how it’d end, either,

hence the surprises in this alleged breather.

In Green Eggs and Ham, while the climax was intense,

the resolution could not have made more sense.

It's a perfect reflection of the Cold War’s finish

that did not in the slightest diminish

its place in the war of The Butter Battle Book.

In this circumstance, every Yook and Zook

all came together as they inspected

their dividing wall’s remains, which reflected

how the Germans saw the fall of the Berlin Wall

as the Cold War came to an end once and for all.

And as for how the Butter Battle’s end occurred?

The sealing of the Yooks and Zooks’ fates stirred

when the Dooka and Dookess took a bold move

with each other’s toast with one bite. What did it prove?

Would it make a difference how it’s eaten? Not so.

This kind of taste-testing felt most apropos

because it tied back to Green Eggs and Ham’s MO.

For Green Eggs and Ham to take this and explore

the deepest aspects of what we’ve known before,

it bore magnificent outcomes that were to breeze in,

just like what it utilized in its first season.

This should explain to you just how much thought

the writers, animators, and voice actors brought

to their translation of Green Eggs and Ham

and why it is anything but flimflam.

However, if I had to address one nitpick,

the green eggs and ham’s origins would be my pick.

In episodes ‘Fox’ and ‘The Mom Identity’,

they introduced us to a unique entity:

green chickens. And what did they lay? Green eggs.

But there’s one important question it begs:

how was the green ham alone ever made?

For a show that was keen with how it displayed

half the origins of its famous dish,

showing the other half would’ve been my biggest wish.

Was there no such thing as green pigs in this world?

If there was, what connections to pork would’ve unfurled?

Ah, well. Long story short, allow me to come clean.

It’s not just the best Seuss show I’ve ever seen,

it’s one of the best animated shows I’d seen.

It took everything that’s iconic, well-known,

and familiar about Green Eggs and Ham alone

and embodied even more inspirations,

touches, depth, and unexpected alterations

that tie back to Dr. Seuss' sense of style

and artistry, and for what it had to compile,

the paths it took the story through were for the best.

They’re fitting in some spots and clever in the rest.

I was as won over by this program

as Guy was by the deceptive green eggs and ham.

However, this show’s barely talked about at all,

especially compared to Stranger Things, Russian Doll,

Squid Game, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before,

and so many other Netflix gems galore.

This show deserves such recognition and much more.

Here’s what else about this show I find hypnotic.

Sometimes, we’d expect this to be episodic,

with each episode coming forth self-contained

and filled with solo adventures to keep maintained.

Well, guess what? Like Netflix’s all-time greatest shows,

Green Eggs and Ham went through with the plot that arose

and spanned it across each entire season.

Given how its story’s told, that’s the reason

it flowed less like distinct journeys with a set hook

and more like ongoing chapters in a book.

Much like how Stranger Things and Russian Doll were told,

it threw intrigue to how Green Eggs and Ham was told,

which is miraculous given its source’s length.

Such creativity served as its greatest strength.

Because of this, here’s what I would suggest.

Whoever wants to do a Seuss retelling expressed

in film, television, or even on stage,

take notes. Green Eggs and Ham, in this day and age,

should give a good idea of what should and must

be done to timeless stories if they’re to adjust

to any other medium for which they’re set.

The Seuss films have some value, but don’t forget,

they made the mistake of being too preoccupied

with stretching the plots out so they could abide

by their feature-length runtime to understand

how to properly retell them in film as planned.

Not only did Green Eggs and Ham know that in spades,

but it did so by letting its escapades

flesh out its story and do the unexpected.

It’s adventurous, human, deep, intersected,

colorful, and goofy yet monolithic fun.

You can either take my word for it or take none,

but don’t let its source and outcome fool anyone.

Check this TV show out. Once you give it a bite,

its ingenuity will whet your appetite.

My Rating

Season 1: A high A      Season 2: A

Series Rating: A