Over the past few years, I eagerly awaited the arrival of each new season of BoJack Horseman but at the same time, I dreaded it. I knew that after each set of episodes I would be an emotional wreck for the next few days (especially after the first season where I had been all but certain I had been watching step-by-step as a man was driven to suicide.)
While it has all the trappings of a comedy–jokes, sight gags, witty social commentary–that’s never what stood out to me about the show. Rather, it was the humanization of a terrible person who we should all hate but still find ourselves rooting for. We didn’t want BoJack to get away with whatever BS he was trying to pull in any given episode but we did want him to become a better person–one who could see his flaws, accept them, and move past them. And that’s what makes the back half of the final season so painful–and yet, so beautiful.
After five-and-a-half seasons of learning to deal with his own ego, battling his addictions, and accepting his past trauma, BoJack is finally in a place that makes him happy. Teaching seems to be the perfect outlet for his overly critical personality and he’s finally become the person he always could have been–thanks in large part to the absence of his two major addictions: alcohol/drugs and the spotlight.
However, while BoJack (and even his former friends) may like this new version of himself, there’s really no such thing as starting over with a clean slate. Over the years BoJack has done some horrible things–and gotten away with them simply because he was famous and the other people involved didn’t want to deal with the public fallout–or, you know, were dead. The new BoJack indeed looks back and sees these things as reprehensible. He wants to believe that he’s not “that person” anymore–that he’s a new man. And while BoJack has certainly become the best version of himself we’ve seen so far, that doesn’t mean the past didn’t happen–nor does that mean it will stay hidden.
Thus this new BoJack is forced to confront his own past mistakes in a public forum–which actually turns out well with the world seeing him in a sympathetic light. However, while necessary, that interview–i.e., coming back to Hollywoo and getting back into the spotlight–is actually the moment that he fell off the wagon. As any recovering alcoholic knows, it’s a terrible idea to visit the places you used to go drinking at and there’s no such thing as “only one drink.”
So, of course, BoJack can’t help but give a second interview and turns from tragic figure to pariah in an instant. His remaining friends distance themselves, his AA group at large rejects him, and continuing his teaching career seems off the table to say the least.
While his new AA sponsor–a fellow Hollywoo star who has had his own issues with addiction–is able to give BoJack some work in a new low-brow comedy film, he’s hardly in a stable environment. And when he finds out that he’s being edited out of his classic TV show in all subsequent releases, he accepts a literal “one drink” and ends up face down in the pool of his former house.
In fact, it is because it is his former house that he doesn’t end up in an early grave–the current owners come home and find him before it’s too late. Of course, he then ends up in prison for 14 months–though the fact that it’s a supermax implies its partly because of the crime and party because of the public wanting to punish his past crimes.
But what’s interesting is that jail is kind of a paradise for BoJack. In jail like in rehab, he doesn’t have to take responsibility for his actions. He can’t fall back on his addictions–be they substance abuse or the need to be in the spotlight–because he has no way to access either. In fact, his life in prison most mirrors his life as a teacher (only it’s now murderers instead of acting students he is directing in plays).
Even as he gets out of prison on a one-day pass to go to Princess Carolyn’s wedding, we can clearly see that his addictions are still waiting for him. Just the idea that he might be able to get back into acting has him chasing the rush before he even notices it and can reign himself in.
Over the series, BoJack’s lost his friends, his home, and even his ability to sponge off his royalty payments. Yet, because of what he discovered along the way, he is undoubtedly a far better person than he was when the series began. But that doesn’t mean he’ll ever be truly free of what caused him to be the horrible person he was.
As Princess Carolyn says, “People have short memories. It’s the best and worst thing about people.” People will forget all the bad things he’s done and give him chances again and again. The struggle is that he can’t let himself forget. Every day he’ll have to find the willpower to stay on the straight and narrow. And the sad truth is that sometimes he’ll fail. He can only try to fail less often each time.
In the end, BoJack Horseman has always been a dark story but one with hope–the hope we can, if not beat our demons, then at least come out on top more often than not. Or as Diane puts it in what will likely be their final conversation:
BoJack: “Life’s a bitch and then you die, right?”
Diane: “Sometimes. Sometimes life’s a bitch and then you keep living.”
BoJack Horseman can be seen on Netflix.
I just wanted to give out a big thanks to Joshua Ott for sponsoring this review with his Patreon donation. (At the $60 a month tier, you are allowed to pick anything up to an including a 13ish episode series to be reviewed–which is released in addition to the one article a week I normally put out here on BiggestinJapan.com.) So thanks again!
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