The opening beats of ‘90s neon gem The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air serve up a healthy dose of nostalgia and smiles. Kids these days can still thankfully catch a pre-action hero Will Smith — who then in his twenties was the teen from the rough West Philly ‘hood who moved in with his wealthy aunt and her family in Bel-Air — on HBO Max.

That ingenious title sequence did double duty, both laying out the series premise — and in the case of the pilot episode, seamlessly tying premise into the opening scene right down to Will’s neon-striped shirt — and setting up the expectation that in a way, this was hip-hop culture going mainstream. The show’s musical roots are undeniable with record producer Quincy Jones at the helm, and the concept itself loosely based on Smith’s own manager, Benny Medina’s experiences.

Fresh Prince was also Smith’s first acting turn, who previously found success as one-half of the Grammy®-winning rap duo DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince. “Jazz” went on to guest star, while The Fresh Prince himself ended the series’ six-season run by adding executive producer to his credits on the show.

While the one-liners and sight gags are still capable of inducing full-blown belly laughs, it’s also amazing (and not always in a good way) how very much of-the-now some of the themes and messages still are.

The fish-out-of-water trope

This one never gets old. I’d hazard to say that the majority of us have felt it on one level or another in our lives. Perhaps the most prevalent theme of Fresh Prince is the fish-out-of-water trope. At its most basic, the “poor kid from West Philly” learns to navigate the upper middle class he’s suddenly thrown into (for his own good). Will is at once told to be something he’s not — the pilot expectations are he’s to dress up in a tux and act refined for a fancy dinner party his Uncle Phil (played by the late, great James Avery) is throwing, during which he naturally subverts expectations, which culminates with his younger cousin Ashley (Tatyana Ali) rapping grace in front of their guests prior to the meal — a new talent Will taught her.

The second layer deals with the fact that Will is Black, and therefore in a historical context was inherently always being told how to act, look and be. The Banks are an all-American family, and a very wealthy Black family, at that; something that had not really been depicted on TV up until Fresh Prince aired. Between Will, the Banks, and their butler Geoffrey, the show introduced — or rather, woke up — white America to the myriad of Black narratives. What shouldn’t have been surprising to an audience became a low-key education.

Malcolm X is referenced in that memorable pilot, and present in a poster on Will’s wall. Will admonishes Uncle Phil for forgetting “who you are and where you came from” when he comes down hard on Will. Yet, it can also simply be boiled down to Uncle Phil’s maturity and the knowledge and experience that comes with it. In this way, the show was relevant and relatable no matter who you were or the color of your skin; if you were a teen, you got the message loud and clear.

The father-son relationship

“Before you criticize somebody, you find out what he’s all about,” Uncle Phil tells Will in the pilot. While this reverberates through the show’s message in general, it’s also turned on its head when Will sits down to “tinker” at the piano — and out comes a lilting rendition of Beethoven, surprising us and Uncle Phil, who secretly stuck around to listen. Again, the writers worked in so many layers here, but it’s a beautiful example of how these two characters related to each other: All up in the other’s face, but underneath, they were just trying to figure each other out. Their relationship was very much the heart of the show. In the series finale, Uncle Phil finally admits to Will that he saw his nephew as a “kid loaded with all the potential in the world.”

Which is how most parental figures see their children. And their relationship evolved from “relatives” to true family in the end, as Will tearfully says. Uncle Phil responds, “You are my son,” which means a lot to a kid with an absentee father. Fresh Prince navigated the reality of low-income, single-parent households with Will’s story, always handling it with grace and the needed laughs thanks to the supporting cast for cathartic release.

Avery, who played Uncle Phil, had the kind of screen presence who, while he came across as stern, was the solid and caring guy you’d want as a father. You knew there was love and respect behind the words.

The series arc

Back when shows were given a chance to grow and mature to a pre-planned finale (before streaming service wars created cancel culture) it’s fun to see how they played out all the way to a finale. (Don’t get me wrong, writers do their best these days, it’s just on a much quicker timeline. Entire relationships play out in a pilot!) In Fresh Prince, it’s a full-on reversal. The family is moving out east for school and job opportunities, while for his part, Will decides to stay in California, alone, to finish what he started: school. The characters grow, but don’t change too far from what we’ve come to love and tune in for every week. A fine balance in a half-hour comedy, but one that Fresh Prince nailed.

In retrospect

My inner 7-year-old is forever grateful to the Banks family for their values and giving me siblings once a week to watch and laugh with. Who else misses the Carlton dance? And my Walkman ...

While episodes like “Mistaken Identity,” in which Will and Carlton are arrested for “driving while Black” and other sobering realities that should not still exist in our world 30 years later are reminders to do better. Luckily, we have that platform and voice in this industry, and it’s our responsibility to use it. Thanks for laying the groundwork, Fresh Prince.