The Melancholic Brilliance of BoJack Horseman
I always tell my friends I never re-watch any movies or TV shows, because I’m not keen on specific details or plot points but mainly enthralled by how that show or film made me feel, as I was watching it.
Watching BoJack Horseman uprooted my long-standing belief that animated shows can’t channel human emotions and struggles as well as non-animated counterparts.
So while I don’t expect to convert you skeptics to give this animated series a try, and fair warning, it’s weird at first to see humans and animals mingle so seamlessly, I do hope that you will at least be open to the possibility that perhaps, just perhaps, you’ve been missing out on BoJack this whole time.
***some spoiler alert***
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Depiction of addiction and depression
There have been numerous analyses of BoJack’s addiction to drugs and alcohol, but in my humble opinion, he’s addicted to escapism — arguably the root of his depression. BoJack’s troubled childhood and the fact that his life receives constant attention from the public and the media play a crucial part in amplifying that calamitous tendency. So why do we, as regular, non-celebrity people still feel so much empathy towards this antihero, despite his countless irresponsible, unrighteous acts?
At the end of the day, you are the only one who understands your struggle regardless of what everyone else perceives of you.
Each of us manifests our sadness, grief or depression very differently. Just because you’re rich, doesn’t mean you are constantly happy. Just because you’re famous and accomplished, doesn’t mean you don’t have self-doubts and insecurities. I think if you’re reading this right now, you and me, we are already privileged in a way. BoJack succeeded at uniting us with our worst fears and our damages whether physical or emotional.
Reality about friendships and romance
Is it really a Hoa’s blog if she doesn’t touch on romance? Guess not.
First I want to talk about Diane Nguyen’s relationship with BoJack. From the beginning, I was pleasantly surprised to see a Vietnamese-American writer portrayed in an acclaimed animated show. Although I didn’t grow up in the States and my experience is vastly different from any Vietnamese-American who has lived here their whole life, I relate to Diane mostly with regards to her coping mechanism in the face of emotional distress, as well as her ambition to create her own artistic voice through writing.
When Diane started ghost writing BoJack’s memoir, they grew so close to each other to the extent that BoJack developed feelings for her soon after. Diane was about to marry Mr. Peanutbutter when BoJack thought of a plan to sabotage their wedding. But thanks to Todd’s timely advice that he should stop intruding people’s lives, BoJack didn’t go through with his confession. As someone who easily catches feelings for others, I understand how hard it is to spend so much time with someone, yet cannot be truthful about how I feel due to external complexities and situations.
Their professional and personal relationship was an interesting journey to follow throughout the six seasons. I’m glad that they ended up being good friends while keeping an emotional distance with each other. For Diane, I’m content that after a whirlwind of failures and obstacles in her writer’s/lover’s life, she found a guy (pun intended) who truly supports her, lifts her up even in unexpected ways. Making a career out of creative writing or any kind of writing is hard, as my journalism peers will tell you.
In the season finale, Diane said that people come into our lives with a purpose, and once that purpose is fulfilled, some will have to leave. That’s reality.
Embrace the pain, embrace the mental impairment because as some people walk out of our lives, others enter, and we are able to treat those people better thanks to our scars and wounds.
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Princess Carolyn, oh how can I not talk about you ❤
She is the epitome of the modern 21st century women, attempting to “have it all” while witnessing the sexism and unfair treatment of women in the entertainment industry every single day. She’s strong but emotional, rational but reckless. Her self-consciousness and rationality has helped her come a long way.
Her on-and-off relationship with BoJack was a great lesson for anyone who’s looking to separate their professional life from their private one. It’s not always easy when you spend the majority of the time at work, with your colleagues or coworkers or clients. She did, in the end, find someone who is thoughtful and sensible enough to provide the emotional support she needs. Side note: we all deserve a Judah who goes the extra mile for us and sings us a song while at work.
Princess Carolyn will not represent BoJack ever again, but she’s happy to refer other trustworthy agents for him. I think that’s beautiful. In the grand scheme of things, we want the best for people around us, but sometimes we can’t just be standing right next to them like before, and that’s okay. People grow up and relationships grow apart. Making amends with the people you used to love sometimes is the way out. You don’t have to keep harboring that hatred because it only makes the damage more intolerable.
Wrongdoings and karma
BoJack not dying in the finale is one of the most satisfying developments of his storyline. For what he’s done all his life, death would put an end to it. To all the pain, to all the public shame, to all the devastating memories. Some might say justice wasn’t done here — I would beg to differ.
I tend to believe that living bears so many more responsibilities and personal charges than death. BoJack now lives the rest of his life trying to make up for his mistakes, but some damage can’t be undone, and so he has to grapple with those issues forever. He has moved on to better things, gotten out of rehab and gone into teaching, but that doesn’t mean the scars go away. There’s this John Mayer’s song where the lyrics go, “moving on and getting over are not the same, it seems to me.” True, isn’t it?
This applies in BoJack’s case because while he’s trying to do more good, karma’s a bitch and it will continue to haunt him until his last breath. The fact that the writers of the show decided to let BoJack live with the consequences of his actions, I think, is genius.
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Long story short, I love BoJack Horseman in all of its realness and vulnerability. Dealing with pain, dealing with the misdeeds, dealing with the fact that you’ve hurt other people, is not an easy topic to illustrate, especially in animated television. I can go on and on about other aspects that make this show so brilliant, but I’d save that for an irl conversation, my friend.
