Please Note: Sweet Story, Bro is a geek critique blog. As such, there will be full spoilers throughout. If you’re okay with that, read on. If not, read on at your peril.
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Welcome To Gravity Falls
This show existed on my radar for a long time but, for whatever reason, I never got around to actually watching Gravity Falls.
Maybe it was the Disney association. The (somewhat fair) assumption that it would be too targeted at kids and a younger demographic to be accessible by an older viewer, despite what I had heard about it and its captivating animation style.
Perhaps it was a silent assumption that it would be fun but forgettable — a jaunt into an off-the-beaten-track American town placed somewhere in the US’ Pacific Northwest a la Twin Peaks. The show, for those not in the know, follows the Pines twins, 12-year-olds Dipper and Mabel, as well as their Great-Uncle (Grunkle) Stan as they encounter a plethora of supernatural and paranormal events.
The premise sounded great, but maybe a little ‘monster of the week.’
If those were my subconscious reasons, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
What I found was a show that was engaging, fun, charming and whip-smart in how it addressed the ideas of growing up, lost childhood and trying desperately to hold onto the magic of long forgotten summer days all leading to a satisfying conclusion that relied heavily on the set-up and foreshadowing the series had cultivated from the very first episode.
The Art Of Foreshadowing
Gravity Falls is a phenomenal exercise in bittersweet storytelling. The show is about memory and loss as much as it is about conspiracy and mystery. It holds up a critical mirror about valuing childhood — along with the whimsy and wonder that accompanies it — whilst reminding an adult audience of what has been lost once reality crept in, sharpening your edges and potentially leaving you jaded and changed.
No?
Just me?
Ahem.
"You’re going to lose a little piece of yourself in every phase of life. That’s a hard lesson to learn. The show eloquently draws that out of the characters.”
In an official Tumblr post, the show’s creator, Alex Hirsch, commented on this idea of representing childhood in such a way, with the Pine twins’ adventures echoing his own summers with his twin sister. He didn’t confirm (or deny) their own supernatural experiences.
“[…] Gravity Falls was never meant to be a series that goes on and on forever. It’s meant to be an exploration of the experience of summer and in a larger sense a story about childhood itself. The fact that childhood ends is exactly what makes it so precious — and why you should cherish it while it lasts.”
This point is echoed by Kristen Schaal (voice of Mabel) who reflected that “Mabel is learning that she’s not going to be a kid forever — there’s a piece of her innocence that is lost. You’re going to lose a little piece of yourself in every phase of life. That’s a hard lesson to learn. The show eloquently draws that out of the characters.”
The show, spanning two seasons and totalling forty episodes, sets its story across a single summer in the titular town. This choice allowed the series to feel all too brief if binged, as I did, but also, somehow, quite long. It evokes that feeling of summer stretching out forever, yet somehow being over way too soon when it’s over.
Items and moments played for laughs, often for just a single joke, are brought back up multiple times across the series and, in some cases, become instrumental in the show’s finale, Weirdmageddon.
This deeply embedded episodic connectivity helps to craft a deeper narrative, one made all the more meaningful by the expert use of meta-reference and throwbacks to earlier clues placed by Hirsch. Items and moments played for laughs, often for just a single joke, are brought back up multiple times across the series and, in some cases, become instrumental in the show’s finale, Weirdmageddon.
A grappling hook, gnomes, Old Man McGucket, and a vending machine are just a few examples that are introduced early but have a series-long effect on the Pines twins’ summer vacation. This ‘breadcrumb’ technique is used to great effect to not only elicit but also further the mysteries surrounding Grunkle Stan’s Mystery Shack and the town its located in.
Gravity Falls is a masterclass in how to effectively utilise narrative breadcrumbs and long-form foreshadowing. Easy to miss if you’re casually watching, the show is practically overflowing with examples of Chekov’s Gun that connect so seamlessly into its main arcs, it leaves the distinct impression that everything was meticulously plotted from the start.
Take the episode, ‘Tourist Trapped.’ It ends with Grunkle Stan keying in a secret code into the Mystery Shack’s vending machine, revealing a hidden door down to…well…who knows at this point. But this one action sets up two things:
Not all is as it seems;
Conflict over whether Grunkle Stan can be trusted.
Until the twins discover the truth behind Stan’s past, we as an audience are acutely aware that Stan is hiding something — a truth that generates both conflict and dramatic irony as both Dipper and Mabel continue to bond with their curmudgeonly Grunkle.
This all occurs in the very first episode. Not only that but the end of the episode, guaranteeing the allure of the mystery hooks you.
Hiding In Plain Sight
Leaning into the mystery and everyday paranormal occurrences of this small town, Hirsch and his team sprinkled in hints and secret messages into every episode — each one adding further subterfuge and deeper foreshadowing for our heroes.
From the opening theme to the end credits and even during key moments in any given episode, Gravity Falls embraces its fandom in the form of breadcrumbs and Easter Eggs.
This attention to detail extends to important characters appearing before being ‘officially’ introduced.
For example, Blendin Blandin appears in a few earlier episodes prior to meeting Dipper and Mabel in the episode, ‘Time Traveler’s Pig.’ Bill Cipher, too, appears more discreetly throughout, ready for eagle-eyed viewers to pinpoint him, foreshadowing his arrival and power.
“When I first got involved, I had no idea about any of that kind of stuff,” admits Jason Ritter, who provides the voice for Dipper Pines. “The first thing that blew my mind was the little sneak peek of Blendin Blandin in the background of episodes 1–3, and that all coming to fruition. That’s when I was like ‘Wait a second. There’s some stuff going on that I’m not aware of.’”
Cryptograms and codes feature heavily, hinting towards future events yet to pass. The Journal MacGuffin that Dipper finds is heaving with them, setting up three main storytelling avenues:
Information hiding in plain sight, hinting at creatures, monsters, and Gravity Falls’ supernatural happenings.
Dipper’s Journal is #3, so where are the other 2?
The mystery over who the author of the Journal is, where they are, what happened to them, and how they know so much.
One such message, once deciphered, reads “Stan Is Not What He Seems” warning us as much as it does the twins with a dark clue for those who actually decoded it.
This warning is present during the opening credits of the show, present from the very start.
This, coupled with the ending of ‘Tourist Trapped’ sets up a mystery that isn’t answered until Season 2 with the revelation of a secret portal to another dimension and the appearance of Grunkle Stan’s secret twin brother, Stanford.
A copy machine that generates clones, a carpet that allows people to body-swap, a shapeshifting underground monster, each one is thematically representative of duality.
Alex addressed how he approached this main story arc and confessed just how much of it he had planned from the start.
“[…] if you start to go down the Reddit rabbit hole, I think your mind might be a little blown by just how many clues and hints we planted pointing to this conclusion, even going back to the very first episode,” he said.
“From blatant things like Stan’s license plate having the wrong name [seen in “The Legend Of The Gobblewonker”], to metaphorical clues, like the broken two-kid swing set in Stan’s mind [“Dreamscaperers”]. Even the title of this episode is a reference to the code “Stan is Not What He Seems” hidden in the theme song seen in our very first episode. Ever wondered why Stan was so distraught at his wax doppelgänger’s “death” in “Headhunters”? The Internet sure did, and they’ve been very busy putting it all together ever since!”
When analysing some of the items found around the Mystery Shack, this foreshadowing of Ford’s appearance becomes clearer. A copy machine that generates clones, a carpet that allows people to body-swap, a shapeshifting underground monster, each one is thematically representative of duality. Subtle, but undeniably present.
But Hirsch trusted that his audience would follow the clues, and had faith they would stick with the show when the answers were finally revealed, even if they got ahead of the mystery itself. Why? Because of the respect shown to them as a fan base — a lesson he learned as a die-hard fan of The Simpsons.
“In terms of the world-building, there was always a wonderful thing that The Simpsons did: It respected its audience enough to reward our attention. They’d say, “We’re going to cram this thing with references, with jokes, with little callbacks, and if you are obsessive enough, if you love it enough, it will reward your obsession.”
Despite his grand intentions, he admits there was some “flack and pushback [from Disney]. He was told that “‘No one’s going to notice. No one’s going to care. You’re crazy’” before confessing that “It’s been validating to discover that the audience is even crazier than I am.”
"If you leave a little trail of breadcrumbs, they will follow it and then they will find breadcrumbs you didn’t even leave and demand more breadcrumbs."
This passionate fandom was thrilled to take up Hirsch’s challenge, rooting through the show frame-by-frame to try and uncover all of the breadcrumbs, to revel and theorise in all of the foreshadowings, and to try and answer its multiple mysteries before time ran out with next week’s episode. Fans weren’t always correct with their theories, but Hirsch praised their efforts nevertheless.
He confessed he was “surprised and heartened” by just how “obsessively the fans keep track,” observing that “If you leave a little trail of breadcrumbs, they will follow it and then they will find breadcrumbs you didn’t even leave and demand more breadcrumbs. That’s been exciting and rewarding and, also, raised the bar for me.”
All of this detail stems from the show's conception, with Alex Hirsch setting a clearly defined set of rules for the world-building of Gravity Falls long before animators drew a single cell.
Alex claimed that, when he sold the show, he negotiated with Disney to ensure coherent continuity. “I want this to have continuity,” he said. “I want this to have world-building. They [Disney] recognize that the reason I was so excited about that was because it was so rare in animation, and I think we were all excited to do something that was different.”
This insistence over world-building paid off, with elements set up years prior finally having their moment as the townsfolk of Gravity Falls assembled to combat the manipulative and powerful Bill Cipher in an attempt to stave off Weirdmageddon.
The finale itself wouldn’t have nearly as much emotional heft or pathos without the careful plotting and introduction of seemingly disparate elements that tied together during the show’s climax; it resonates so strongly as it leans wholeheartedly into the pay off stemming from a fan's memory to a somewhat innocuous moment or item. These throwbacks not only act as a form of ultimate fan service, but also justified Alex’s request.
However, not wanting to abuse the nature of mystery by leaning too heavily into the tropes of the genre, Alex Hirsch was wary not to overpromise and underdeliver when it came to leaving the audience wanting more.
“Cliffhangers are a lot of fun, but I think they can be easily abused if you’re not careful. The test I use is this: “Would the episode have still been satisfying on its own, even without the cliffhanger?” If the answer is yes, then the storyteller has earned the twist. If the answer is no, you’re making a soap opera—an endless trail of breadcrumbs but no actual bread.”
This effective use of foreshadowing teased fans with an abundance of breadcrumbs to devour, helping Gravity Falls to establish itself as a show with a wide, cross-demographic appeal — one that extended far beyond the original intended target audience that usually tunes into Disney and Disney XD.
“I like stories that complete their emotional arcs, but still leave some lingering threads to chew on. It gives the fans something to theorize on, and it gives me a window back into that world if I ever choose to return to it.”
Couple this with the fact that the show was always structured with a defined beginning, middle, and end, rather than being stretched too thin, and you’re left with a wonderfully paced, tightly honed story.
Hear that, Lost?
See You Next Summer
Gravity Falls is as much about memory as it is about the execution of foreshadowing and pay off. On a deeper level, the two indelibly intertwine. It even introduced a device called the Memory Gun, first seen in the episode ‘Society of the Blind Eye’ — built by the seemingly one-note town kook, Old Man McGucket. (Spoiler: he’s none of those things.)
The show is reflective of both the things you can recall with crystal clarity as well as the hazy, half-remembered moments of a summer-long since past. It showcases the objects of a past you kind of remember alongside the events you’ll never forget. The fact is, all these factors add up, contributing to a memorable time and an unforgettable summer.
Besides, you never know the importance of a given item when you first acquire it, and you’re never aware you’re living the ‘good old days’ until you have some time separating you from those days. But Gravity Falls is a great example of a well thought out, purposely structured narrative with fan-baiting breadcrumb plotting that all lead to a satisfying climax.
When the twins lead the charge against Bill Cipher and his Weirdmageddon cohorts and they utilise past items like the grappling hook and the crystal flashlight, it delivers an undeniable sense of pathos for its dedicated fan base who remember them.
It’s a three punch combo: the art of foreshadowing, the beauty of memory recall, and the power of the pay off.
Maybe it’s your first watch through of Gravity Falls, maybe it’s your tenth, but chances are whether you’re noticing something you missed the first time around (like looking at a photo and picking up on a previously unnoticed detail) or are filled with a warm glow as you remember moments from your favourite episode, what you’re experiencing is a figuratively condensed version of a summer memory half-forgotten, half-remembered.
Summer ends way too fast, but I can’t wait to revisit Gravity Falls.
Sources
AV Club (1)
AV Club (2)