There's something secretly brilliant about the most depressing and dark series on TV being filled with pun-based character names and an Arrested Development-level of complexity to a single minute worth of jokes. By some miracle, BoJack Horseman has managed to survive four seasons despite this, and the show has finally decided to become something more than a tour de force for Will Arnett's titular manic depressive horse(man). For the first time, BoJack was absent from whole episodes, allowing the show to explore the lives of his supporting cast in richer detail. However, it's in this comedic tangents that the show allows itself to enter its most magnificent and tragic third act of any season yet. This season may not have had standout episodes on par with "Fish Out of Water," but it does get into the core of what makes this show not only one of Netflix's best series in a sea of endless mediocrity, but one of the most compelling animated shows of the modern era.
In a lot of ways, BoJack Horseman followed the unfortunate trope of dedicating a fraction of its season to themes reminiscent of the 2016 presidential election. The opening episode focuses around Mr. Peanutbutter (Paul F. Tompkins) running for governor despite having no real platform. In an episode that ends with a strange cribbing off of Better Off Dead, it develops a political subtext that the people running the country have no idea what they're doing. Thankfully, even at the show's most biting moments, it isn't a deliberate and cynical clone of the reality it implies. Instead, it's a sign of a bigger conflict in which Mr. Peanutbutter is just as isolated from job duties as he is his love for Diane (Alison Brie), who ends the first episode with a call to the absent BoJack.
Besides the premiere being a bit hilarious in typical BoJack Horseman form, it established its darkest premise yet. Following the death of Sarah Lynn (Kristen Schaal), BoJack is unable to feel remorse. He is a terrible person who cannot enjoy the company of others. As the other episodes suggests, the world is passing him by, and he is unable to see past himself to become a functioning member of society. He isn't even addressed by most characters as BoJack. He has become a "Who?" in ways that eat at his soul, making one wonder why he's even living. The one relationship that could help him, agent Princess Carolyn (Amy Sedaris), doesn't want to work with him. Nobody does. This is the period where BoJack ceases to exist in any formative manner.
Even as his story continues to spiral into a miserable state, the show cannot help but play into its joyous core. Mr. Peanutbutter's run as a politician is full of absurd situations that go beyond strict criticism, such his opponent (Andre Braugher) getting crab hands after a botched surgery. The show isn't shy with its spitfire wit, or the choice to make something out of nothing in Todd Sanchez's (Aaron Paul) ongoing story about being an asexual who wants to have a job involving clown dentists. The absurdity and the darkness clash together so incongruently that it sometimes becomes impressive that the show spends whole episodes exploring BoJack's personal family life, which helps to flesh out the character, but is oh so depressing.
It all begins in the second episode, where BoJack returns to the home of his mother, whose personal past was cursed with gender normatives that inevitably destroyed her psychologically following her brother's death in World War II. BoJack walks around the house as these flashbacks occur, and all he can do is think of how to repair his life. In this moment, the show cleverly parlays fixing the past with fixing a house, an irony in part because BoJack doesn't become sympathetic to other people's means until he meets his "daughter" and begins to realize just how tragic life would be if she turned out as depressed and destructive as he did.
Every character ends the season with a bit of a downer, but even that is mixed with a sense of humor that undermines a reality that goes beyond its talking animal characters. It's strange that this show has evolved over the seasons to a place of personal anxiety, where every episode almost seems to end with a frown. Even then, it's a show whose world is populated with a need to escape this with a facade of happiness. The media needs to see a smile, and BoJack is incapable of doing so as his mother can't even remember his name. As is explored later, the very story for why that is may be one of the most unnerving plot points in TV this year.
BoJack Horseman is now at the unapologetic state where fans have come to expect a certain mentality when watching an episode. Even if there's pop culture skewering, or even the somewhat uneven political satire, there's still this need to feel fulfilled. It's great to see characters succeed, but they also fail spectacularly in private. The show proved that this wasn't just true of BoJack, but of every character on the show. Maybe some (like Todd) don't end up spiraling into a demented tale of family trauma, but they all have a certain loss that defines them. They aren't as obsessed with the material idea of success, and when they come close they find themselves being yelled at. It's a season that suggested that the only way to move forward from depression is to address the problem with others. While it's not suggested that everyone does what Todd did and hire clown dentists as a result, it's still not a terrible idea. Not bad for a show dedicated to skewering Hollywood with reality shows about butts and selling shows to channels that do nothing but tell time. Well done.
Overall Rating: 4.5 out of 5
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