Summer Camp Island Review: The Sherbet Scoop / Lucy's Instrument (Yeti Confetti Chapters 3 + 4)

"This is so avant-garde."

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Whereas the first two episodes of the Yeti Confetti arc were more about establishing the circumstances, we've finally reached the point in the arc where Summer Camp Island is in a nice spot to both experiment and dig into some more meaningful stories. There's an interesting vibe to "The Sherbert Scoop" and "Lucy's Instrument": while they're no more narratively significant than the arc has been, and no closer to a certain goal, there's something nice about seeing the show work at its own rate, pursuing the stories that it wants to tell in the moment. Sometimes it's the smaller moments that help paint the biggest picture, after all, and it's a thesis that SCI seems intent to explore.

"The Sherbet Scoop," especially, is the most detached episode of the arc thus far, but I feel like that also makes it the most compelling. Season 3 is generally its best when episodes both feed into the unique atmosphere of their respective arcs and exist in a capsule all their own, and "The Sherbet Scoop" is pretty much exactly that, trading in plot specifics for meticulous, rousing character portraiture. Admittedly, it's an episode that spends the bulk of its runtime with Lucy in the back-seat, but I don't think that's a knock against it; the Yeti Confetti arc is as dedicated to her as it is to the yetis at large, and considering how much of a work-out she's gotten already, it's nice to see her slotted into a narrative where she has less control. 

Instead, she's invited by Saxophone, alongside Oscar and Hedgehog, to the eponymous Sherbet Scoop, a traditional (ice) fire ceremony where a beloved member of the yeti community is celebrated through stories told in their honor. Saxophone explains it away as a means of creating clouds to make the snow for Yeti Confetti, but more importantly, it's a chance for SCI to both shake up its format and key into everything that makes the show so charming. Although the plot of the episode is ostensibly Lucy's attempt to falsify a eulogy for the honored yeti, Bassoon, the meat of it are the stories told about his life. That allows the premise to morph into a series of vignettes, all told from the perspective of a wide swath of the show's cast. The wonders of that idea are two-fold: it's a fascinating means of debuting the character and immediately making him feel intimate and lived-in, while also using said character as a conduit for those around him to demonstrate their unique perspectives as members of the show's cast. That's basically the formula for a win-win situation.

Bassoon, as his three storytellers lay out, is the ultimate buddy, with each one getting the chance to express the impact on their life he's had in ways both big and small. Saxophone recalls the silly tale of their breakfast confusion, with Bassoon forgetting that they made plans and feeling so bad about it, despite no ill will, that he creates an exclusive invitation to Saxophone for breakfast in the future. Susie goes off the deep end recounting their long-standing prank war, humorously fashioning her words in the tale to make herself look more victorious than she actually was. Perhaps the sweetest story of them all, though, is the Alien King's. While he acknowledges that they never had a close relationship, the two bonded as strangers over their joint heartbreak, taking an impromptu trip to Sedona where "the wreckage of [their] love lives melded [them] together like binary stars." 

There's something refreshing about how deeply the voices of every character are felt through the show's always-immaculate prose; every story is deeply affecting in its own way and, try as Susie might to strain the heartfulness out of her own yarn, tender. While that's always been one of SCI's greatest strengths, it's awe-inspiring to me how brilliant the show is in its ability to harness those emotions that it's able to take a character that we've never met before and, over the course of ten minutes, endear him to us before we've even met the guy.

It's an atmosphere that Lucy, as the episode's muffled protagonist, is at odds with, but "The Sherbet Scoop" takes smart advantage of it. She approaches the situation somewhat cynically: if Bassoon is deceased, she can just fake a eulogy and inherit the goodwill of the act without anyone being able to call her bluffs. There's certainly a morality concern there that risks making Lucy look bad, but like "Don't Tell Lucy," there's an acknowledgement that her cunning is still rooted in naivete. Watching her unconvincingly tell a graceless composite of all of Bassoon's other stories with props stolen from his bathroom is somewhat painful, but it's also a good way to force Lucy off of her high horse without being too mean-spirited. She's simply facing the consequences of her own decision and making those realizations on the spot in a very human, universal way. 

The revelation that Bassoon has actually been alive and in attendance of the Sherbet Scoop the entire time risks raining more on Lucy's parade, and maybe with any other character it would... but Bassoon is Bassoon. Why would he care? Instead, he formally introduces himself and cutely tells Lucy that all of what she just went through would make for a great story to tell at her own Sherbet Scoop. It's a delightfully wholesome ending to one of the show's most wholesome episodes yet, and considering what the show's like, that's quite the accomplishment.

"Lucy's Instrument" is a bit of a return to how SCI usually conducts itself, but that doesn't mean it's worse when you consider the different goals that the episode has. While Lucy's always been a fun, refreshing presence for this arc to be framed around, there hasn't been an episode more dedicated to her cause than this one, plunging deep into a basic but sweet tale of self-discovery as Lucy enrolls in her first day of yeti school in hopes of discovering her special instrument. While things are pretty by-the-books for the most part, it certainly makes some interesting observations and discoveries along the way that imbue it with value.

The premise of the episode itself is rather unelaborate, more calibrated narratively towards fun hijinks than meaningful character work, and a lot of that comes from how simple everything is. "Lucy's Instrument" is centered around the conceit that nobody understands Lucy, no matter where they fall in her life. Lucy's not woefully lonely or some rebellious outsider as a lot of similar stories might carve their characters out; she's just, in her precociousness, at odds with those around her. That's always been a point of intrigue to her character for me, and it's great for an episode to really dedicate itself to that. 

This inkling of character work is fulfilled by rendering Lucy as a fish out of water, thrown into a classroom underwhelmingly packed with yum peers. It's almost an insult to her character as someone who exudes so much prideful, intelligent authority over others, but it's just "Lucy's Instrument" acknowledging the strange circumstances that she's in, and that she has to fight through, even if everything feels stacked against her. She's too thoughtful for the thoughtless environment she's in, watching her naive, yum classmates discover their instruments through arbitrary, intuitive actions while she's left to ponder questions like, "What if all instruments sound good to me? What if I like different instrumentation in different ways, depending on my mood and feelings?"

I can see how some people might not be a huge fan of that formula, and as a dear friend pointed out, the helplessness that the narrative is so deeply set in. It's a bit tough to balance; we sympathize with Lucy's plight across the episode, and that can make moments like her disastrous concert, where she's relegated to clapping as her potential instrument before her teacher shuts her out of the concert, feel strangely mean-spirited. "Lucy's Instrument" attempts to counter-balance that by giving her the company of supportive friends—Fife returns to help instill her with confidence, while Oscar and Hedgehog taken on hilariously overblown roles as her surrogate mother and father, respectively—but that also creates a different sensation of Lucy being stranded. Even if they want to support her, they're overwhelmed with so much pride that they become blind to her misery and can only present a hollow sort of support that she can't take solace in.

Nevertheless, I feel like the episode's resolution is able to make up for that, at least in part. Once Lucy confronts Oscar and Hedgehog about not finding her instrument and feeling like she doesn't have a family to go to, it's sweet for the characters to acknowledge that they're her family, too. Even if "Lucy's Instrument" has them ham up their parental nature, that's still a truth to their characters, and a respectable lesson for SCI to be able to teach: your friends are your own type of family. (Keep on normalizing platonic love, show!) While the ending doesn't undo the damage of that climax if you find it irreparable at a baseline, and even if it's bred out of Lucy not being able to make the revelations about herself that she would like to, it's an undeniably sweet message to leave behind.

With only one episode left to the arc, perhaps there's some weirdness to how the Yeti Confetti chapter hasn't been taking advantage of the fact that it's supposed to tell a broader narrative; only "Don't Tell Lucy" really progressed things with a singular vision. The show's interest in shining a spotlight on the everyday, more transfixed on unique moments in time than hard-core story-telling, though, is something I've always enjoyed about how SCI carries itself. It'll be interesting to see how the final episode in this set bookends the chapter, but as it stands, "The Sherbet Scoop" and "Lucy's Instrument" are Summer Camp Island in expectedly fine form.

FINAL GRADES:

"The Sherbet Scoop": A.

"Lucy's Instrument": B+.

Next review: Lucy tries to solve the mysterious case of a stubborn snow cloud.

For my last reviews of "Don't Tell Lucy" and "The Yum Whisperer," CLICK HERE.

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