Re: Fresh Prince Of Bel Air Full Episodes Download
Calvin Beauchamps
Now this is a story all about how The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air was straight up, the best show on television. I mean, watching The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air after school had become a serious tradition of mine, not dissimilar to the traditions of everyone's favorite American holiday, Thanksgiving. Which is why a Fresh Prince Thanksgiving special marathon totally makes sense and will always be the perfect way to partake in the holiday's festivities. Honestly, re-watching these episodes will make you forget all about football (what even is football?) and that outdated parade. Wouldn't you rather witness the antics of DJ Jazzy Jeff and a (practically) fetus Will Smith? Same. I don't really need to see a Snoopy balloon that's larger than my apartment, anyway. Once is enough.
Anyway, all you need to get this marathon going is approximately 5 slices of pie, preferably pumpkin, and some place to watch the show, preferably a throne. (Unfortunately and blasphemously, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air is not available on Netflix in the U.S., but you can order it on DVD.) Here are all the episodes that pair well with your stuffing, potatoes, et. all on Thanksgiving and actually, now that I think of it, every day of the year. Yo home, the Bel-Air!
Reasons to watch: First of all its Season 1, so Will Smith and the gang look extra baby faced. Secondly, the plot revolves around the "children" cooking and feeding the adults, so of course hilarity ensues. As in, Geoffrey the Butler throws shade, Hilary freaks out about "doing work," and all the usual suspects say/do excruciating things.
Reasons to watch: Well, it's only one of two (three, if you count them in part) Thanksgiving specials, so it's obvious that this episode will be new and uhm, "fresh." Basically, Hilary's TV show is filming at a homeless shelter, so she has to volunteer, and Carlton comes with her. Philip hurts his back, and Will suggests that the two go to a massage parlor in an effort to ease the pain. Let's just say that everyone ends up getting more than they bargained for.
Reasons to watch: Because if you started part 1, you have to finish part 2. We also get to see a family television show discuss "Happy Ending" massages (not kidding) and witness Hilary become, if only for a moment, a better person. Oh, Thanksgiving. You really do bring out the best in people.
The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air was, and continues to be, a breath of fresh air. Originally airing from 1990 to 1996 for six seasons, the sitcom broke Will Smith through to superstardom in a series of episodes articulating his transition from life on the mean streets of West Philadelphia to life in the palatial mansions of Bel-Air (hmm, if only there was a catchy summary of this inciting incident). Smith, playing a version of himself, lives with his extended family, and everyone lives, learns, laughs, loves, and grows with each other.
It's a special series to me, and to so many folks. In celebration of its 30th anniversary (the pilot aired September 10, 1990), I wondered why this show continues to play so wonderfully and warmly where so many other '90s sitcoms become forgotten. I believe it's because of the show's big, beating, sincere, courageous heart. The Fresh Prince is unbelievably silly, no doubt, with its oft-arch performances and willingness to surreally break the fourth wall ("How come we can't afford ceilings?" Will says in one episode, while the camera tilts up to literally show the studio lights). But these are all catchy seasonings to a fundamentally kind, responsible, and curious main dish. And when it digs into this core, it doesn't need silly jokes.
In honor of The Fresh Prince's 30th anniversary, here are the 10 best times the sitcom got serious throughout its run, in chronological order. Grab a hankie, whistle for a cab, and take a trip down memory lane with me. For more on The Fresh Prince, here's the latest intel on the upcoming reboot.
Right from the jump, from episode 1, The Fresh Prince had more on its mind than its aesthetics might initially hint. The theme, extended in this pilot, summarizes the "pauper to prince" narrative of Will's initial journey with catchy, goofy flavor, but it doesn't stop the inherent complexities of this initial narrative's center from being any less pertinent. Class and race issues are at the core of Will's journey from Philadelphia to Bel-Air, and after a series of fish-out-of-water shenanigans where Will's lower-class upbringing clashes with the Banks' upper-class upbringing during a dinner party, these tensions explode explicitly.
Will tells Uncle Phil (James Avery) that he, straight up, has forgotten where he came from. That he has no idea what life on the streets is like. And Uncle Phil, in the first of Avery's many perfect performances, sets him straight. Tells him he grew up on the streets of Baltimore. That he knew struggles and overcame them. That he heard Malcolm X, whom Will had deified earlier in the episode, speak in person. It's a stunning piece of performance that lays the groundwork for the series' deft juggling of silliness and sincerity perfectly. And, it lets Will have a "not what he seems" moment, too; when Uncle Phil leaves the room after this chat, he notices Will playing Beethoven on the piano. Both parties have lots to positively learn about each other.
In 1990, when "Mistaken Identity" first aired on NBC, a gurgling of tensions and resentments between the Black community and the police, founded on an entire history's worth of subjugation and explicitly race-based violence, were churning nearly at a breaking point. (One year later, Rodney King's beating by police will spark a series of protests and clashes in Los Angeles.) But much of white America remained (remains?) ignorant of such targeted frissons. As such, "Mistaken Identity" served (serves?) as a startling wake-up call, albeit one couched in comfort, comedy, and familiar class dynamics.
By the time Phil and Viv show up to bail them out, and for Phil to deliver a typically fiery speech about what justice should look like in this country (delivered to a particularly weaselly-looking Hank Azaria), the damage is done. But his words, as Uncle Phil's so often do, ring passionate with promise, with ideals, and with familial love. The rest of the series includes commentary about Black relationships with the police (think DJ Jazzy Jeff instinctually putting his hands up when a bailiff asks him to swear to tell the truth in court), but here, it did so explicitly and explosively.
And yet. Will Smith is, like, such a good actor. So when he has to break down and confess to the family that the amphetamines Carlton found were meant for him, making him tacitly responsible for Carlton's hospitalization, he commits to it beautifully. He uses his emotions like an instrument, starting as strong as he can, until it can't help but fracture and fall. Wisely, his apology tends to stay out of the socioeconomic implications of drugs, and more into the personal point of view of "I am a member of this family who has hurt another member of this family." It's purely powerful stuff, the kind of moment that immediately casts the rest of the episode in a better glow. I remember some David Mamet quote that said it doesn't matter how good an actor is; if the script is good, the final product is good. This episode, and especially this scene, tends to prove Mr. Mamet wrong.
Carlton is confidently, uniquely himself. He loves dancing, especially to Tom Jones and the Sugarhill Gang. He's fond of structure, of status, of systems. He's joyful, performative, and cares not what others think about him. All of these qualities make him one of our great television characters; all of these qualities make him rife for roasts from his cousin Will; all of these qualities add to the interesting playing with and subverting of what kinds of racial depictions we saw on television in the early '90s. And, all of these qualities are challenged directly in "Blood Is Thicker Than Mud," a standout episode for Alfonso Ribeiro.
By Season 4 of The Fresh Prince, Will and Carlton have graduated from high school and are now beginning their college studies. Thus, the hunt for a fraternity is on, and the two decide to attend a rush event for a Black frat on campus, run by Top Dog (Glenn Plummer). Will, as he is wont to do, acts a fool; and Carlton, as he is wont to do, hops over every task with a double front-flip, cleaning up the joint while he's at it. When the time has come for Top Dog to choose his new candidate, Carlton assumes he'll get picked, and Will's foolishness will not be tolerated. But Top Dog makes the opposite decision, deciding that WIll is more "authentically Black," calling Carlton a "sellout."
Carlton's response comes not as a surprise, but as a well-practiced speech, something he's been having to reckon with his entire life. He eradicates the box of one proper Black identity not with force, but with precision. "Being Black isn't what I'm trying to be, it's what I am," says Carlton, plainly, making sure Top Dog knows he's the real sellout before leaving. And Will, in one of the all-time tension diffusers, hypes up his cousin's speech with bravado. This moment feels good to watch, and feels like a cathartic piece of permission for Black folks who don't fit the typical mold you see on television to be exactly who they are, and be comfortable in that.
It's Carlton, Phil's son, whom we see suffer this trauma the most severely, even more so than Phil himself. Those qualities I assigned Carlton regarding the previous episode? Those qualities are all self-weaponized, manifesting in self-destructive ways. Carlton refuses to see his father after this moment of vulnerability and mortality. Instead, he laser-focuses on cleaning the house, taking care of everything except himself, feeling genuinely, scarily haunted. Will then, becoming a touch of a father figure himself, must set his cousin straight. Will's father is out of the picture; Uncle Phil is by all accounts the closest to a dad he has. But Carlton is actually, literally Phil's son. This relationship needs to be attended to, now. And when Carlton does buck up and speak to his father, vulnerability and everything, it's simply stunning television.
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