BoJack Horseman is an animated show on Netflix starring Will Arnett as a washed up sitcom star who happens to be a horse, and it’s one of the most brilliant things on television. That sounds absolutely unbelievable but it’s true. The premise reads like a typical comedy about a goofy has-been trying to stay relevant to hilarious results; but much like a show like M*A*S*H, though it began as a sitcom, it very quickly evolved into a comedy-drama. And not just any comedy-drama, but a harshly brutal one that addresses uncomfortable truths few other series I know of have even attempted.
The titular BoJack was the star of a successful sitcom in the 90’s called Horsin’ Around, a parody of all those bad yet somehow popular comedies from that era, though most clearly Full House. The show follows his attempts to revitalize his career in spite of his alcoholism, troubled past, abrasiveness, and severe depression. But it doesn’t just focus on him. The regulars around him are his pink feline agent Princess Carolyn (Amy Sedaris), his ghost writer Diane (Alison Brie), her yellow labrador partner and his old TV rival Mr. Peanutbutter (Paul F. Tompkins), and BoJack’s slacker roommate Todd (Aaron Paul).
BoJack Horseman is a very funny show, with some of the best comedic writing on television right now. The humour is smart and there are often lots of great little jokes scattered or hidden throughout an episode. There’s plenty of biting Hollywood and media satire, as various shows and celebrities are lampooned, often with animal dopplegangers derived from a pun. And no, there’s never a reason given why half the people in this world are anthropomorphic animals. This disconnect from reality not only works to the comedy’s benefit, but it lends the world enough of a contrast to the tough reality of the characters’ lives and personal arcs.
The biggest source of this melancholy tone is BoJack’s depression. And a lesser show would portray him working through that, making it an arc that he overcome it. But depression is not an easy thing to overcome, and in coalition with that, the world is not a kind place, particularly the world of Hollywood (or “Hollywoo” as it comes to be known in the series through funny circumstances). It’s a tough and parasitic environment and the show doesn’t hold back at seriously showing its harmful effect on people and the double-edged sword of celebrity. In fact it delights in the pointy end. This show refuses to make things easy for its title character, and BoJack is constantly put in misery both by chance and by his own actions. The latter is what allows these devices to work.
BoJack is an asshole! He’s often disrespectful to his friends, he’s wilfully self-destructive, doesn’t think about the consequences of his actions, and despite his self-loathing he can be very selfish. In his defence, this behaviour is partly the result of a troubled childhood raised by abusive parents who never loved him. But on the other hand, the show makes clear this is not an excuse. Because of this, BoJack definitely deserves a lot of what he gets. However the funny thing is, we sympathize with him nonetheless, and even somehow continue to root for him through every horrendous mistake. Victor Hugo once posited “is there not in every human soul a primitive spark, a divine element, incorruptible in this world and immortal in the next, which can be developed by goodness, kindled, lit up, and made to radiate, and which evil can never entirely extinguish.” BoJack has that spark, that humanity that we can identify with. And sadly it’s usually shown when he’s being self-pitying. He often vocalizes sentiments we’ve all felt at one point or another; when nothing in our lives seems to be going right. But the difference is, that’s his life every day. “I want to feel good about myself …And I don’t know how; I don’t know if I can,” he frankly admits one episode. And so he resorts to self-destructive tendencies such as his alcoholism, and, though possibly subconsciously, sabotaging his own relationships with other people. Yet at the same time, that twinge of humanity also allows for the smallest bit of optimism. He wants to be better, he wants meaningful relationships, he wants to be happy. But it’s often drowned out by a belief that he doesn’t deserve these things or that he’s in too deep of a rut. And this toxic mindset only further harms both his ability to achieve any of those things and the people around him, sometimes to devastating effect. One character compares him to a drowning person you want to save, but each time you try, they drag you down under with them. It’s a really serious psychological depression, and the way it’s presented with such brutal honesty and emotion keeps you drawn to the character and the (probably forlorn) hope for his redemption. And this is the same character who got into a publicized row with a literal Navy seal (called Neal McBeal and voiced by Patton Oswalt) over “dibs” in a supermarket. It’s worth noting Will Arnett is absolutely committed, and this is definitely his best work.
Of course the hard stuff isn’t immediate. The first half of the first season, though very well written, is mostly standard sitcom, and a means to establish the characters, their backgrounds and personalities: BoJack’s conflict with his has-been status, Princess Carolyn’s ruthless determination, Diane’s relative innocence and objectivity, Mr.Peanutbutter’s liveliness and obliviousness, and Todd’s generally laid-back and wacky demeanour -the essential foil for BoJack. There are hints of the serious subject matter, but it’s not until the episode “The Telescope”, when BoJack attempts to rectify things with his estranged former partner, where it really becomes something else. That’s where it starts subverting convention and exposing bitter truths of human nature. Since then, this has remained a consistent element of the show, and while it’s often hard-hitting, it’s also insightful and profound.
In this, BoJack Horseman also borrows a technique from Game of Thrones where the penultimate episode of every season is the heaviest. However these episodes are more shocking than simply killing off major characters or showcasing a high-stakes conflict. They push BoJack to the brink, his lowest point of each season, and they are utterly uncompromising. It’s a test of the audience’s emotional endurance as well as how far the show can go. Season three’s “That’s Too Much, Man!” really lives up to its title. And so far, each one has been shocking and revealing, adding new complex layers to BoJack’s character and his horrible collage of experiences. Ultimately, it’s left up to the audience whether there’s any hope for him. The writing through all of this is absolutely superb. There are a ton of really affecting quotes in the dialogue and they always fit each characters’ emotional state.
Each season gives BoJack a major arc, but also provides the other characters with their own important stories. Even though the likes of Mr.Peanutbutter and Todd seem like goofball comic relief characters, they’ve both had surprisingly deep storylines, particularly last season. This show has a character called Mr.Peanutbutter whom you can take seriously! And Aaron Paul, who produces as well as stars on this show, and took it fresh off of Breaking Bad, is really good at both comedy and pathos. Diane is constantly trying to find her in way in life; and Princess Carolyn, who tries to maintain a heartless agent persona, while struggling with mid-life crises and her relationship with BoJack, has some of the most emotional development on the show. In fact, I’ll give a shout-out to Amy Sedaris and her pretty amazing performance. The show is also really tough in how it roasts the Hollywood system and even takes on a few cultural-political issues like celebrity sex scandals and the conversation around abortion -doing so while pulling no punches.
All of this seemingly comes from the mind of a man called Raphael Bob-Waksberg, the creator of the show and its clear creative director. He doesn’t have a ton of credits to his name and is fairly young, but he’s definitely someone who deserves a lot of recognition (he’s doing a rewrite on The Lego Movie Sequel, which is great because he already knows how to write for Will Arnett and Alison Brie). Because Bob-Waksberg managed to Trojan Horse the greatest articulation of the effects of depression through an animated Hollywood satire, complete with hijinks and a character whose catchphrase is “suck a dick dumb shits!” It’s a downer show for sure, but one that routinely compels you to keep watching. And with season four coming out, there’s no better time to catch up on this truly remarkable series on Netflix. BoJack Horseman is unlike any show I’ve ever seen before in how unapologetically it turns genre on its head, and how provocative, subversive, emotional, complex and uncomfortable it is, while still being a very funny, thoroughly entertaining series. Check it out, or risk missing what may be the best ongoing T.V. show of the past couple years.
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