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The dark horse of Netflix: BoJack Horseman

  • Elle Rudd
  • Feb 22, 2017
  • 4 min read

BoJack Horseman on Netflix. Image by Ben Mautner via Flickr /CC0 (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)

As we grow up, the cartoons that we watch become a huge part of who we are. We absorb what we watch and re-enact the lessons that we learn in our day to day lives. We learn friendship, patience, understanding and acceptance from these little animations and they genuinely imprint themselves on our ethics, values and morals. Television and the media tell us how we should be living our lives; from the clothes, to the hobbies, to the types of people we should hangout with. What is ‘cool’, ‘now’ and socially acceptable is dictated to us from upon high. ‘High’ being an electric rectangle that sits in your front room or in your hand.

Once we become adults it’s assumed that we no longer need these moral guidelines as we should have a fully developed ethos. But that’s not the case. We’re currently sitting on what could be the biggest or most recognised mental health epidemics that we’ve known. One in three people will suffer from a mental health disorder in the next year. There’s nothing more disconcerting and alienating than sitting at home in a mental health induced fugue state, watching perfect lives on television and feeling like you’re the odd one out.

What we’re seeing now is a rise in TV that mimics the cartoons we used to watch when we were younger, but just like us, they’ve grown up. And no, I don’t mean South Park or Family Guy. We’re now surpassing the crass and offensive and exploring genuine emotion alongside the dirty jokes.

On the forefront of this movement we have critically-acclaimed BoJack Horseman. The concept of a middle-aged former celeb who does bad things without care of consequence is unoriginal and passe. BoJack Horseman is redeemed by its quirky alternate universe comprised of animal hybrids and our characters genuinely human shortcomings (despite the pivotal character of BoJack actually being a horse).

The tale of this human/horse hybrid is one that we all know. As Kelsey Jannings, the director of BoJack’s comeback hit film Secretariat, says, he has stagnated. BoJack reached his peak during the height of his 1990s TV show and he’s lived a spoiled and privileged life since. Masking the pain and serious emotional scars from his abusive relationship with his parents, he tries to fill the hole that’s left with alcohol, drugs and sex. But he ruins every relationship he has. His agent, Princess Caroline, is a high powered ambitious super-agent whose entire life has been dedicated to catching BoJack as he sabotages himself. His ‘housemate’, Todd, is used as a figure to represent his disconnectedness from even those closest to him, as well as his abusive tendencies, both with himself and those around him.

In every character we meet, we see a small portrait of ourselves and our own shortcomings, which is why this show is so refreshing. Not only do you watch and laugh at farcical situations led by frustratingly real figures, but you get your heart broken all at the same time. Recurring character and throwback to BoJack’s much missed ‘hay’ days, Sarah-Lynn, satirises the way we treat child stars. It re-enacts the typical career trajectory of a child star. She’s Mary-Kate and Ashley-esque and hopeful but is lunged into the cold and lonely world of fame.

When The BoJack Horseman Show ends, she becomes a familiar figure; the cheap, tacky pop-star producing crap songs with terrible videos. She’s the Hilton-esque socialite that millennials have grown up with, spending her days drinking and snorting her fortune. Her tragic end is a wake up call which acts as the catalyst that pushes our anti-hero over the edge into the sunset to run free.

And that’s where we’re left, BoJack on the edge of a cliff, and life, watching his kind running in abject freedom and on the precipice of a new life. It hasn’t been the first time we see him run away either. In season two, we see him chase down an old flame to New Mexico and attempt living a ‘normal’ life, until he sabotages it in the way only he can.

The new season is due to hit our screens this spring. So what do we know about this upcoming season? Writers confirm that there will be less of Mr. Peanutbutter, BoJack’s saccharine sweet frenemy and contemporary. Creator, Raphael Bob-Waksberg, has hinted that this season will delve deeper into the cynicism and deep darkness, despite BoJack’s supposed breakthrough.

So the questions for BoJack fans are: how will he sabotage this? Can he find peace of mind and normality or will he be plagued with this inability to be happy forever? Will he fill the role of his surrogate daughter or is he one step closer to his own tragic demise?

"I don't know if I believe in it; real lasting happiness. All those perky, well-adjusted people you see in movies and TV shows? I don’t think they exist." - Diane Ngyuen, BoJack Horseman.

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