Netflix review: Bojack Horseman

I have long been a fan of animated television. From my collection of Adventure Time memorabilia new and old to my continued love for anything Tom Kenny does, it’s clear that I have a soft spot for traditional animation.

However, my favourite animated series is not fun and whimsical like Steven Universe, nor is it void of complex plot like Family Guy (Seth MacFarlane I love what you do, but come on). This series bridges the gap between a typical cartoon and a serious drama. I tend to be in agreement with many others that this show is the best series being actively produced, maybe the best series period, not just in animation. Which series do I mean? Bojack Horseman.

Spoilers ahead for Bojack Horseman.

I will preface this review by saying that this is not a series you should watch if you’re already feeling down. Bojack Horseman is serious social issues thinly veiled with comedy at the best of times, and sheer depressing realism at the worst. Sure, they address issues like sexual harassment in the workplace and gun violence with a sex robot and a rhyme-saavy movie star, but those derelictions are absolutely necessary to contrast the heavy themes of the show.

In case you haven’t seen it, Bojack Horseman is an animated series which follows its namesake, Bojack, as he goes through life in Hollywood (later Hollywoo) as a has-been. 

There’s no two ways about it; Bojack is a piece of shit. He constantly mistreats and undervalues everyone in his life, and expects forgiveness for his childish actions without consistent change. But therein lies the genius; a lot of the time, you find yourself rooting for him. Perhaps the most striking thing about this series is that the main character is unequivocally and irreconcilably a douchebag, but the writers still manage to keep him relatable. You want Bojack to make amends for the things he’s done.

On the flipside, you have obviously likeable characters like Mr. Peanutbutter who the fanbase routinely rip to shreds. Sure, he’s goofy and charismatic, but he uses women and changes them irreparably when they don’t fit into his idea of what marriage is.

Think that’s intense for an animated series about the middle stage of an Animorph horse? Just wait until you get to the end of season three. Actually, wait until you get to the end of any season. The penultimate episode of each one is intense, gut-wrenching, and most of all depressing. I spent an hour staring into the dark after I finished the third season.

For an animated program, Bojack Horseman addresses more serious topics than any live-action show I’ve seen and, certainly, they portray them more intensely. Alcoholism, depression, addiction, overdose, infertility, unstable relationships, betrayal, trauma, abuse, sexual violence, gun ownership and mass shootings, infidelity, disease, PTSD; these are just some of the issues Bojack Horseman tackles.

I wholeheartedly believe this is the best series on television (yes, including live–action). Bojack Horseman impossibly strikes the perfect balance between the goofy hijinks we know and love from animated media and important societal issues. The series makes you question your own morality, not just the characters’. The fragile grey balance of the scales between good and bad are constantly tipping in a different direction, and it just makes for really good TV. Do yourself a favour and watch Bojack Horseman.