Alright! Today I'm reviewing Bojack Horseman, an original animated Netflix show that tells a tale of the titular BoJack Horseman, a washed-up alcoholic sitcom star who peaked in the 90s, and his subsequent attempt to get back on the A-list of Hollywood. Set in an anthropomorphized world that's ours but not, BoJack Horseman is a human story about life, death, bettering oneself, addictions, friendships, generational trauma, depression, and the overall nature of the human condition.
One of the best things about BoJack Horseman is how real this show felt. For a show about a talking alcoholic horse, BoJack Horseman's shifts from a hilarious episodic sitcom to a mature arthouse setpiece were astounding, showing some of the title character's darkest moments while still maintaining a level of humor that didn't undercut the impact of the emotional beat. Heartbreaking emotional breakdowns and superb monologues are delivered time and time again. For every good laugh the show provides, an equally devastating moment is given.
All of this is best exemplified by the title character, BoJack Horseman. BoJack Horseman is, for the entirety of the show, a terrible person. However, he's also constantly aware of his faults and trying to do better, constantly going through extreme lows and extreme highs with self-destructive behavior that negatively affects everyone around him, an effect he is well aware of and is constantly compensating for. This endless cycle of betterment paired with addictions and set behaviors, and more specifically the show's overall hopeful stance on the issues despite the pessimistic protagonist, are what make BoJack Horseman the most interesting and layered lead since Walter White. He's consistently relatable while also being one of the most detestable leads of a sitcom, ever.
BoJack Horseman walked a razor's edge in terms of its subject matter:rootable characters ratio, giving its lead chances to mess up and make mistakes in unforgivable ways that make your mouth drop. Every season contains BoJack at his lowest, his highest, and his most self-conscious, and each time you think he's finally on a path for the better? No, he's not. The rug is pulled out from your feet and you realize BoJack Horseman is still both victim and perpetrator. He doesn't change, his mistakes only get worse until he cannot be redeemed. But despite this, the viewer never gives up on him. We want to see him conquer his inner demons. It's actually quite astounding to think about - the reaction elicited from the viewer is proof of the main theme of the show.
There are so many themes to the show that it's almost impossible to comprehensively go through all of them, so I'd like to highlight the one I found most important: Hope. Time and time again, characters fall. They fall so hard you wonder if they'll ever be able to get back up, only for them to fall to an even lower depth. But they always keep trying. BoJack Horseman is a testament to how self-improvement isn't an overnight process, it's something you have to work hard to get better at. It's a show about believing and putting the next foot forward, a trait that is best exemplified by the last line in season two: "Every day it gets a little easier. But you gotta do it every day - that's the hard part. But it does get easier." In a show full of great lines, that line shined the brightest.
Another thing I appreciate about BoJack Horseman is the fact that it's never a PSA. I've seen movies and shows where mental topics are ingrained into the plot but sometimes it sounds more like reading the Wikipedia page for antidepressants and therapy in a way reminiscent of an ad you'd see at the gym (Superman and Lois, Dear Evan Hansen, and Young Justice come to mind). BoJack Horseman deals with these serious topics but never uses them as an opportunity to lecture the audience, instead using them to drive decisions with character-driven reasoning. The show allows the actions of the characters to speak for themselves, allowing the lessons to come through their emotionally-driven example rather than their words.
A large part of that success is due to the naturalistic voice acting from the ensemble cast, all of whom were spectacular but most notably Will Arnett as the title character. Will Arnett is absolutely spectacular in the role, his distinctive low, deep voice perfectly matching the deadpan humor of the character. He sounds like... well, he sounds like BoJack Horseman. His gravelly voice is perfectly suited for the nihilistic vendetta BoJack has against the world. I also liked Amy Sedaris as Princess Carolyn, the hard-working agent whose work ethic is absolute and her admirable proficiency at manipulating media buzz to her advantage. I liked Aaron Paul as Todd Chavez, although I found him to ultimately be a dumb version of Jesse from Breaking Bad and his Todd-centric episodes to be hit-or-miss. Alison Brie as Diane Nguyen was great, and I appreciate that the show didn't try to build her and BoJack as a will-they-won't-they relationship.
I also rather liked the scoring of the show, the biggest standout being the "epic" version of the show's opening theme that plays as BoJack rides the Escape From L.A. Equally fantastic is "Don't Stop Dancing," the signature original song that the show gave us two fantastic variants of - one being a jazzy upbeat dream sequence and the other a beautiful piano solo in the penultimate episode. Both are absolutely visceral showstoppers.
But what good is a satirical sitcom if it's not also an earnest sitcom? There are so many catchphrases, running gags, and jokes a minute that one can't help but laugh. It's forever impressive that BoJack Horseman frequently provides huge laughs while giving satirical takes on gun violence, abortion, the #MeToo movement, sensationalism, and how each one of those is treated by modern media. Every aspect of BoJack Horseman is walking on a tightrope, and if it was balanced any differently it would fail spectacularly. But it works, and it works well.
However, there were aspects of the show I wasn't a huge fan of. Todd's use in the series after he moves out of BoJack's apartment was minimal and often contrived, and the singular bad episode of the show - S5E3 "Planned Obsolescence" - which had a largely unfunny subplot wherein Todd's girlfriend's pornstar family schemed to get the two to consummate their asexual relationship. I also found the animation style for the human characters to be ugly and indistinct. It looks like every other animated "adult" show, which is... fine, I guess - but it's not particularly good.
Another aspect of the show I wasn't terribly fond of was the sheer number of pop culture references. Seeing that it is set in Hollywoo and the characters are all in-universe celebrities it does make sense, but, like The Good Place, I wonder how well the show will age. While the themes will always remain relevant, the same cannot be said for references to Michelle Pfieffer in Coolio's music video. While it does prove that BoJack knows its audience and knows it well, there is something to be said for timeless humor over celebrity namedrops.
Over the course of six seasons, seventy-six episodes, and one holiday special, BoJack Horseman released excellent episode after excellent episode, consistently balancing humor, adult themes, and satirical commentary with a morally despicable lead in a mixture that should not work as well as it does, and certainly not one that, all things considered, has a hopeful message. Part of that success is due to celebrity culture - the archetype of the television star who was in one popular sitcom and nothing else is always relevant, and the exploited child actor with a music career who eventually cracks under pressure is a story we've seen many times before (BoJack Horseman=Matthew Perry, Sarah Lynn=Lindsay Lohan). Because of the well-documented effect that Hollywood has on people, all of their arcs feel natural, realistic, and somehow relatable despite their being talking horse millionaires.
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| There was a conversation about bestiality this show wasn't ready to have. |
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