The 25 Best Simpsons Episodes Ranked

"The Simpsons" stopped being a TV show decades ago. It's an institution now. Everyone with even a shred of pop culture literacy can name the core members of the titular family, and millions of others can rattle off a couple dozen residents of Springfield. These characters and their world somehow feel like they've always been around, almost like animation and comedy never actually existed until they did. Generations who grew up in a world where this show was always on, always airing, always available, may not instantly recognize just how much "The Simpsons" shifted television on its axis, but they're living in a world defined by the series' sense of humor, its blend of biting satire, slapstick, and sentiment.

And so it's come to this: /Film decided it was time to select the 25 best episodes of the series. Considering that there are 760 episodes to choose from, this was ... a challenge. 

So we assembled a "Simpsons" braintrust, a group of writers and editors who have this show in their DNA and could spend all day, every day, quoting the series and referencing its most niche moments. And after much discussion, a little bit of debate, and some voting, we narrowed down a list that we think sums up the best the show has to offer. The fact that this could've been a top 100 and we'd still bemoan the classics that didn't make the cut says a great deal about "The Simpsons" and its legacy. This is a series that will outlive us all. And honestly, it deserves that. 

"The Simpsons" is no stranger to hallucination sequences, but this season 8 episode is on a whole other level. After Homer foolishly eats multiple insanity peppers at the town's annual chili cookoff, he experiences a lengthy, trippy journey through a mysterious night-time desert. It's here that coyotes can talk, the sun moves along with his footsteps, and there's a version of Marge that's always looking away from Homer no matter how much he runs around her. 

There are a lot of funny gags here — like how the Johnny Cash-voiced Spirit Coyote still bites at Homer's leg like a regular animal — but there's an otherworldly darkness to this episode that makes for a more fascinating and emotional experience than usual. The show's done plenty of marriage crisis episodes over the years, but this episode's spiritual elements help put a fresh spin on the topic even eight years into the series' run. There's also an ambiguity to the surrealism that you rarely see on this show; it's never made clear how much of what Homer sees can be chalked up purely to the peppers, which makes those darker moments linger long after they're over.

With some of the most breathtaking bits of animation in the series' run, and a finale with one of the sweetest Homer/Marge moments in the whole show, this episode encapsulates so much of what classic "Simpsons" so great. It's ambitious, funny, and unlike anything else on TV. (Michael Boyle)

Movie parodies are part of the lifeblood of "The Simpsons," but my favorite one is "Rosebud." This episode (season 5, episode 4) is indebted to "Citizen Kane," but takes the premise in a different direction befitting the show.

It's Mr. Burns' birthday and he's longing for his long-lost teddy bear Bobo, the key to his discarded childhood innocence the way that Rosebud the sleigh was for Charles Foster Kane. When Bobo (mangy and rotten from an eventful decades-long "life") finds his way into Maggie Simpson's hands, Burns will stop at nothing to get his bear back. Since bribery fails on Homer, he makes his problem all of Springfield's.

This leads to what is, for me, the funniest minute-long stretch in the show; Burns and Smithers trying to break into the Simpson house to steal Bobo, ninja-style. First, they try to slide along a self-made zipline (knockout-gassing Ned Flanders along the way) but get stuck halfway across. Then they directly break into the house, surreptitiously climbing on the ceiling, but they're stopped in the kitchen by Homer, who spends the night eating 64 slices of American cheese one by one.

What makes the episode subversive is Burns' longing doesn't make him any more sympathetic; he's literally trying to steal a child's toy and the ending, where Maggie relents and gives it to him, is a testament to her generosity, not Burns' worthiness. Monty Burns is a bad guy — and unfortunately, that's why he often wins. (Devin Meenan)

"Marge Be Not Proud" perfectly demonstrates the enduring and unparalleled appeal of "The Simpsons." When I was a kid, it was one of my favorite episodes because it hit a few sweet spots: video games, irreverent humor, and, well, Bart. Watching as an adult, however, the episode revealed itself as a story about the heartbreaking experience every parent endures when they realize their children have grown up out of nowhere.

"Marge Be Not Proud" truly has it all. You want timeless "Simpsons" gags? How about Homer listening to his answering machine messages and hearing a 1963 recording of Allan Sherman singing about Camp Granada, only to yell across the house, "Marge, is Lisa at camp Grenada?" (possibly the funniest "Simpsons" moment of all time). Or what about the legendary running gag that is "Lee Carvallo's Putting Challenge?"

But if you want more, this installment has it. Marge coming to terms with the sense that Bart has grown up without her even realizing it somehow conveys the inherent tragedy of parenthood and the inescapably fleeting nature of childhood in about as effective a way as any TV show ever has. And if that's not what you're looking for, then there's always Homer's wonderfully random drawing of a robot grilling a hotdog over a trash can to keep you chuckling. (Joe Roberts)

Fans of the series commonly agree that John Swartzwelder is one of the best "Simpsons" writers (and some argue he is the best), and one of Swartzwelder's greatest episodes is "Homer at the Bat." Like many nerdy dweebs who grew up loving movies and TV, I confess I was not a sports fan. I knew next to nothing about baseball when "Homer at the Bat" aired in 1992. But I still understood that it was a big deal for the show to get an entire line-up of players — Roger Clemens, Wade Boggs, Ken Griffey Jr., Steve Sax, Ozzie Smith, José Canseco, Don Mattingly, Darryl Strawberry, and Mike Scioscia — to voice cartoon versions of themselves.

In the episode, Mr. Burns makes a bet that his Springfield Nuclear Power Plant softball team will win the championship. Up until the time of the bet, the team has been doing pretty well, primarily thanks to Homer and his "Wonder Bat," a bat fashioned from a tree branch struck by lightning (a concept borrowed from the Robert Redford baseball classic "The Natural"). But that's not good enough for the greedy Burns. To ensure the team wins it all, he decides to bring in a group of Major League players (in one of the episode's best gags, and yet another reminder of how ancient Mr. Burns is, he first selects a list of old-timey players who have been dead for many, many decades).

Homer and the other players who work at the plant are benched, but then, one of those wonderful sequences that can only happen on "The Simpsons" takes place — all of the professional players befall some strange misfortune (my personal favorite: Ozzie Smith falls into the "Springfield Mystery Spot," which appears to be some sort of endless, impossible void). Eventually, Homer wins the game — by being struck in the head by a pitch. "The Simpsons" got lazy with how it handled guest stars in future episodes, but here, every guest is used perfectly in weirdly hilarious ways. Even if you don't know who these guys are (as I did not at the time), their characterizations work perfectly. (Chris Evangelista)

In this season 6 gem, "The Simpsons" sets its satirical sights on kids' sports, and how parents can sometimes take them way too seriously. Everyone knows that one parent in the bleachers who's way too loud and way too hard on their own kid when they inevitably mess up; in "The Simpsons," that parent is every adult in town except for Marge. This episode presents a version of Springfield that's incredibly callous, shallow, and bizarrely obsessed with children's hockey, and we're forced to watch in horror (and amusement) as this environment drives Lisa and Bart into a heated, jealous-fueled rivalry. 

For the most part, it's a quintessential season 6 episode: sharp, hysterical, and surprisingly high-stakes. But it stands out even among a classic-packed season because of how much it takes Lisa and Bart outside of their usual comfort zones. Even six seasons in, "The Simpsons" was still able to show us brand new sides to its main characters, still letting them go on fun, surprising personal journeys. It's exciting to see Lisa find a passion for something outside of school and activism, just like it's fascinating to see Bart react to no longer being the "cool" sibling. 

The episode's shining moment is its surprisingly sweet, earnest resolution where Bart and Lisa choose to value their sibling bond over winning a game. Bart and Lisa have always been one of the series' most lovely character duos, and that finale cuts right to the heart of why they work. The ending's arguably a little too sweet for this show, but don't worry: A riot breaks out to keep things from getting too schmaltzy. (Michael Boyle)

It is easy to sometimes forget that "The Simpsons" is and has always been a cartoon. When talking about why this is one of the greatest American TV shows, the conversation is usually about the characters, the jokes, or the social commentary, not always about the wildly imaginative and surreal imagery that can only be done in animation. That's why "Last Exit to Springfield" is one of the show's greatest episodes. You have an episode jam-packed with story, with excellent parodies — "The Godfather" one remains an all-timer — a poignant story about the power of unions, while also having several fantasy sequences. After all, this is an episode that has Lisa hallucinating "Yellow Submarine," Mr. Burns and Smithers doing their best "Get Smart" impression, and of course, the "Dental Plan/Lisa Needs Braces" scene that goes on for so long it stops being funny, then goes back to being hilarious. 

Indeed, "Last Exit to Springfield" is 100% a cartoon, one with the comedic sensibilities of a "Looney Tunes" short, more jokes per minute than ZAZ movie, and iconic quotes — "So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time" has transcended the show itself. It is also a rather poignant episode thanks to its pro-union story. From Homer's role as a brilliant tactician (not really) and head of the union impacting real workers' strikes in the U.K., to Lisa's union strike folk song being used in real strikes in Argentina, this is an episode whose reach is surprisingly powerful and long. (Rafael Motamayor)

"Homer goes to space." That's the gist of "Deep Space Homer," and that's really all you need to know in order to immediately understand why this episode is tops. The fact that the premise is based around brilliant satire on top of Homer's oafish tendencies makes it that much better. NASA is annoyed by the low TV ratings that space shuttle launches are getting, so they bring in more average Americans to pique public interest. Homer and Barney are the schlubs chosen as candidates, and Barney offers up some amusing moments, especially when non-alcoholic champagne results in him hijacking a jetpack, smashing into a pillow factory without hitting any pillows, and then getting run over by a marshmallow truck. 

We can't talk about this episode without mentioning another all-time great gag, which finds Homer opening a bag of potato chips in zero gravity, eating them while floating to the classic tune of Johann Strauss II's "The Blue Danube." There's actually a beautifully animated shot in this sequence from the point of view of a chip that stays stationary in the frame as Homer spins and flies toward it in the background. Just look at the way the shadows move around the chip in that shot. That's good stuff! Of course, the subtitled ant interactions are another hilarious bit, after Homer smashes the ant farm inside the shuttle. Let's not forget that Kent Brockman's cowardly news report about the ants led to the now-famous colloquialism of, "I, for one, welcome our new [insert latest threat to humanity] overlords."

But for me, the brilliance of this episode comes from an inanimate carbon rod setting the episode in motion by winning an honor at work over Homer, and then that same object becoming the hero that saves the astronauts (including the real Buzz Aldrin as himself) following their mission snafu. Brilliant. (Ethan Anderton)

One of the darkest and most controversial "Simpsons" episodes of all time, "Homer's Enemy" still divides fans to this day. Some believe it's too bleak, too self-aware, its one foot in our reality risking breaking our love for these characters. Others argue that it's too dang funny for any of that to matter, even if it's true. We fall on the latter side of the argument. 

"Homer's Enemy" presents a daring and uncomfortable premise: what if a "real" person found himself interacting with Homer Simpson? What if this "real" person was a hard worker and a decent person who saw this privileged slob, with his house, family, and failed-upward career, and was rightfully peeved about it, growing more and more bitter with every passing interaction? Frank Grimes (voiced by regular cast member Hank Azaria) dares to challenge our love for Homer. Through his eyes, this iconic comedic creation isn't lovable or hilarious — he's a selfish, pathetic example of everything wrong with society, and the darkest possible reflection of the American dream. 

Infamously, the episode ends with Frank dead and Homer snoring loudly during his funeral as his friends chuckle at the whole thing. "The Simpsons" was rarely ever this dark, and this self-critical, again. But this is the rare comedy show that spent years teaching you to love its characters, before abruptly slapping you across the face and asking you to confront that affection. It's pitch-black, bold, and yes, hilarious. (Jacob Hall)

The show may be called "The Simpsons," but Springfield is home to many more faces than just the eponymous nuclear family. There are so many supporting characters, each with their own personal quirks and professional niches, that every one of them can be a different person's favorite character and the episode-by-episode storytelling possibilities of "The Simpsons" are endless.

There's no better showcase of this cast than season 7, episode 21, "22 Short Films About Springfield." By this point, the writers understood what a great ensemble they had built, so this episode exists to peek into their daily lives. Unfolding like a collection of "Simpsons-themed sketches (some interconnected, some isolated), the episode is a smorgasbord of the often-absurd yet character-based comedy that makes "The Simpsons" special.

Let's touch on "Steamed Hams," the most famous segment of the episode (and one I know by heart) even though it's just a 3-minute segment of a rapid-fire half-hour. Principal Skinner invites Superintendent Chalmers over to his house for an unforgettable luncheon, but when he overcooks his roast, he gets the delightfully devilish idea to disguise Krusty Burger takeout as their meal. Skinner drops lie after ludicrous lie, but the shoe never drops, and the suspicious superintendent just shrugs it off.

Skinner was conceived of as merely a stodgy adversary for Bart's troublemaking (even his name sounds like a drill sergeant's), but if there's any better showcase of how he evolved from straight man to (hilarious) punchline, it's "Steamed Hams." (Devin Meenan)

If this were a list of perfect episodes of television encompassing the history of the medium, "You Only Move Twice" would need to be in consideration. This is an episode that needs no introduction for hardcore fans of "The Simpsons." It's as joke-dense an episode as you'll find across the show's 30-plus seasons. From the get-go with Smither saying, "What's wrong with this country!? Can't a man walk down the street without being offered a job?" right up to Homer expressing disappointment with literally owning the Denver Broncos, it's "Simpsons" humor exemplified.

But this episode truly comes down to the brilliance of Hank Scorpio. Voiced by the wonderful Albert Brooks, the head of the mysterious Globex Corporation woos Homer and the family away from Springfield with a fancy job offer. It's the best guest appearance in the show's history, and the best one-off character in the show's history. (Yes, Brooks came back for "The Simpsons Movie," but not as Scorpio.) From one of the all-time great "James Bond" parodies (leading up to the line "I tackled a loafer at work today") to Scorpio taking out hostile government agents as Homer casually quits his job as though everything around him is fine, this is one of the episodes that all other "Simpsons" episodes must be measured against. If we were facing some apocalyptic event and we, as a society, could only preserve a small number of episodes of TV for future generations to enjoy, this one makes the cut. It's that good. (Ryan Scott)

A send-up of Martin Scorsese's "Cape Fear" remake starring Robert De Niro and Nick Nolte, the episode "Cape Feare" is an undeniable classic. After being sent to prison twice due to the actions of one Bart Simpson, Krusty the Clown's former sidekick Sideshow Bob (voiced menacingly by Kelsey Grammer) gets out of jail and has his sights set on killing his young nemesis, forcing the Simpson family into the Witness Relocation Program.

"Cape Feare" is packed with some of the show's most memorable slapstick moments, as Sideshow Bob is relegated to being the Wile E. Coyote of this episode, always inadvertently thwarted by Bart and his family as the Road Runner. First, you have the sequence where Sideshow Bob stows away under the Simpsons' family car as they head to their new home. Along the way, Bob is inundated with pain from speed bumps, has a hot cup of coffee dumped on him, and is prickled with cacti chunks.

We take a break from Bob's woes for a fantastic redux of "The Simpsons" opening credits, now titled "The Thompsons," as we're shown their ominously named new home of Terror Lake. But we get back to Bob's pain, when he removes himself from under the car and repeatedly walks into loose rakes lying around on the ground, snarling with each thwack. What's even better about this gag is that it was extended to fill time in an episode that didn't fit the time slot, and now it's one of the most beloved bits in the entire series. All this is before he's trampled by a parade and eventually ends up being tricked into performing the entire score of "H.M.S. Pinafore" before getting arrested yet again. Oh, Sideshow Bob, your pain is our immense pleasure. (Ethan Anderton)

Like most kid-centric episodes, "Lemon of Troy" is great because of how much it understands what it's like to be a kid. It knows how petty town rivalries can become the most important thing in the world, and how dangerous it can feel just to sneak into a place slightly outside of where you've been allowed to go before. There are no real-life Shelbyvilles out there, where everyone's a doppelganger of people from your hometown and every thing looks slightly different, but your rival town/school sure feels like Shelbyville when you're 10 years old and exploring it for the first time. 

In addition to being a fun adventure story, it's also insanely dense on the humor. There are so many memorable jokes here: The lemon-shaped rock, Milhouse's camouflage fantasy, the tutor misunderstanding, the Nelson/Martin team-up, that ridiculous shot of Homer's doppelganger trying to smugly chew on a lemon. The sheer amount of planting and payoff going on in this episode's script is amazing, and borderline miraculous. This is three episodes worth of comedy packed into a tight 22-minute package. 

Glimpses of Shelbyville are rare in "The Simpsons" — outside of this episode, we pretty much only ever hear about the town in passing — but this one episode has firmly cemented Shelbyville in fans' memory. 29 seasons later we still vehemently root against that pesky backwards town, all because of the legacy "Lemon of Troy" built. (Michael Boyle)

This list was created by assembling /Film's biggest "Simpsons" fans in a private chat, and letting them make the case for their favorite episodes. After the free range discussion, each writer and editor submitted a list of their personal favorite episodes, which were all combined into one master list. From there, episodes that received significant support during the nominating process where placed on the list automatically, with the final slots determined by the team making the case for personal favorites about which they felt passionately. The final ranking was determined by having each member of the team submit a private ballot ranking them, with the list being the result of those submissions.