![]() |
| Image courtesy of Netflix |
Season 4 (8/9/2017)
12 episodes, 30 minutes each
Comedy, Drama, Animation
Streaming on Netflix
Bojack Horseman continues to provoke laughs and tears in equal measure with it’s incredibly deft touches of insight and empathy.
When it debuted in 2014 Bojack Horseman seemed like it would be just another animated sit-com with a ridiculous sense of humour, and while it made good on that promise, it also turned out to be one of the most emotionally honest character dramas we’ve seen for a long while. Which, in itself, is kind of a ridiculous gag when you think about it; the titular character is an anthropomorphic horse, literally named Horse Man, a washed up 90’s sit-com star trying to regain some relevance in a superficial town and a cut-throat industry always looking for the shiny new thing. For that show to be one of the most touching pieces of programming on screens is just another clever twist on reality by the this wonderful show. But that’s just the stepping off point for a show that not only goes on to satirise everything about the entertainment industry’s superficiality, but also digs deep into how that industry wounds the people who dedicate themselves to it, or perhaps how wounded they are to begin with, and also how hard it can be to heal.
Returning for it’s fourth season, Bojack Horseman takes a broader perspective, focusing more equally on each of it’s main characters than it has previously. While Bojack (Will Arnett) remains a key element connecting various stories, he is no longer the only window into other characters lives. Instead, the show treats it’s cast as a true ensemble, giving each character their own narrative arc. Where previous seasons have been focused on Bojack and his struggles with his career and how his feelings of self worth are tied to his successes as a celebrity, this installment is more intimate, dealing with Bojack and his relationship with his family, specifically his mother Beatrice (Wendie Malick).
Family, and how challenging it can be, are themes that colour most of the characters stories this season. Whether it’s Bojack dealing with his feelings about his mother, or Princess Caroline (Amy Sedaris) facing her own difficulties with actually becoming a mother, or Diane (Alison Brie) and Mr Peanutbutter (Paul F. Tompkins) having to work through issues in their marriage. Interwoven with all of these intensely personal stories are the ridiculous comedy plot lines we’ve come to expect from the show, like Mr Peanutbutter challenging the Governor of California to a ski race down Devils Peak for the Gubernatorial seat, or Todd (Aaron Paul) setting up a business where Clowns and Dentists train each other in order to make trips to the dentist less scary for kids.
In contrast to the hilarious frivolity there are the flash backs to scenes from Bojacks family history. Seen mostly from his mothers point of view, first as a young child and then as she grows to adulthood, the back story goes some way to making Beatrice a more sympathetic character without ever excusing her behaviour. The show examines the nature of mental illness and how it affects families, not just immediately but generationally, with the effects of depression specifically being passed from parent to child.
Bojack Horseman is a special show, with writing so clever it's easy to miss just how silly the on screen action is at times, and it’s never been better. During a mid-season episode we get a glimpse of Bojacks inner monologue and it’s a constant series of self criticism, loathing, paranoid speculation about what everyone else is thinking, and excuses. Throughout the episode Bojack talks himself down so effectively, projecting so much of his own self loathing onto the people around him, that he ends up lashing out. In a fit of anger Bojack throws a doll his dementia suffering elderly mother has come to cherish over the balcony of his hillside home. As Bojack, instantly ashamed adn guilt ridden, enlists the help of Mr Peanutbutter to sniff the doll out they find themselves knocking on the door of the neighbours who live down the hill from Bojack. Turns out the neighbour is Felicity Huffman, and she reams Bojack for the years of throwing things over his balcony, including, but not limited to, a heaping pile of partially digested cotton candy vieweres will remember from the pilot episode. She has the doll but spitefully refuses to return it. Mr Peanutbutter, still on the campaign trail for the Governorship, negotiates a deal where Felicity returns Bojacks doll in exchange for Bojack doing a guest spot on her tv show FHBA LA. Bojack agrees.
This isn’t the first time attentive viewers will be aware of Huffmans show, as it’s referenced in passing via dialog, and in the ticker on the news channel MSNBSea. It’s an established entity in the viewers mind when Huffman brings it up, but only as a joke title referencing the numerous initialismed series titles we see in the real world. In the next episode Bojack explains that he thinks the show is “one of those Navy sex crimes gone cold things, then the numbers come in, and that’s when they call me… The Judge.” Which would be completely believable in the world of Bojack Horseman, but what we get is even weirder. FHBA, LA is actually Felicity Huffmans Booty Academy: LA, a show where Bojack is doing a guest spot as a Judge, complete with wig and robes, on a panel that also consists of Felicity Huffman and Sir Mixalot of Baby’s got Back fame. In the space of two episodes Bojack Horseman goes from demonstrating the fragile mental state of it’s title character to an absurd lampooning of reality television and the moral bankruptcy of tv networks. The fact that Bojack can do that without ever feeling rushed or tonally disjointed, always managing to keep it’s characters motivations and relationships straight and well serviced by the script, never sacrificing the emotional punch in favour of a joke, while making opportunities within the dramatic moments to make insightful comedic remarks, and all in a tight 30 minute format, goes to illustrate the exceptional level of skill and talent there is in the team behind the show.
Bojack Horseman consistently establishes expectations for it’s audience, and then defeats them. It manages to walk a line between the utterly absurd and the uncomfortably real in a way that makes each element more than it would be on it's own. There are other shows out there with well written, emotionally damaged, characters and funny, absurd plots. You’re the Worst returns to FX for it’s own fourth season this month, a show that also deals with depression and the difficulty of finding one’s sense of self worth in the modern world. And while I enjoy that series and sympathise with it’s characters and their troubles, when it’s over I rarely find myself thinking about it or them. On the other hand, I find myself thinking about the ridiculous Horse Man for weeks after a season of Bojack ends, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because the Netflix model of releasing a shows season en-masse means a condensed period of time spent with the characters, which increases the feeling of attachment the audience has with them. Or maybe it’s the way that, where other shows will put a character up as an example of mental illness and ask “Isn’t it funny how messed up we can be?” Bojack will show us a character that knows how messed up they are and let us empathise with their struggles to be better. Either way, I’m already finding myself wistfully thinking of Hollywoo at random moments in the day, and I can’t wait to go back.
9/10
Bojack Horseman is Produced by: Tornante Company, ShadowMachine, Netflix
Distributed by: Netflix
Created by: Raphael Bob Waksberg
Starring: Will Arnett, Alison Brie, Aaron Paul, Amy Sedaris, Paul F. Tompkins, Aparna Nancherla, Wendie Malick

Comments
Post a Comment
Think about the thing you are about to type. If it's not going to have a positive or constructive impact on the discussion, or is only meant to aggravate, disturb, or hurt whoever might read it, then please reconsider posting it. Comments designed to be offensive will be deleted.