Animation Revelation's Animation Blog

Bark.

Before I watched the show, I got a brief glimpse of which characters the fans loved the most, and I saw a lot of people choose Juri as their favorite of the cast. I had that in mind for the past few episodes, as her role in the student council seemed more brooding than any of Touga’s attempts at leading their plans. She resonated with a more mature feel than her cohorts, not partaking in Touga’s womanizing, Saionji’s abrasions, Nanami’s tricks, or Miki’s obsessions. Where the other members have recent love troubles in the midst, she’s still trying to learn to deal with a heart broken quite a while ago. She’s like the aloof big sister of the group, long since disenchanted from the promise of revolution that the others so desire.

Then of course, there’s the allusion in her being played by Kotono Mitsuishi, who played the main character of Ikuhara’s previous show. As such, this episode makes sure to juxtapose Juri with Utena in that regard, as who the protagonist of this show could be if given a different path. She’s gone through what Utena is experiencing, and serves as a sort of warning of the burdens that befall her kind of personality. That gets played with throughout this session, where she switches from being the more helpful of the council members to the most hostile in the same scene. One moment, she’ll be casual with Utena and talk to her as a fellow student. Soon after, she’ll try to kill her for representing her lost ideals way back when.

Juri’s rivalry with Utena offers quite a few questions as to one’s identity, like their talk about school uniforms. When Utena couldn’t tell who Juri was when in casual wear, it nods to how something like an outfit becomes who we are in the eyes of outsiders. Utena’s spent enough time dealing with the council members that she takes a moment to comprehend seeing one of them as a normal person and not as a rival at school. That goes in line with her own reason for wearing her uniform outside of school, seeing it as part of her inner self as much as her exterior self. It’s a bit like Kill la Kill in that regard, except much subtler and without the sentient clothes.

And along the lines of that show, there’s a bit of a destiny theme hinted at in this episode, as well as the denial of the idea that is destiny. Juri despises the belief in miracles and serendipity as ways of life, wanting possession of the Rose Bride simply to dispel that idea once and for all. While her desires are rooted in cynicism, they also finally shine light on what kind of revolution the council members are after. She wants to change a world woven by fair folk and make it something where one only has their own two hands to do craft their future instead of any divine plan. In short, a very stark contrast to what Princess Serenity believed in.

Speaking of Serenity, I like how her backstory initially leads you to believe that she was in love with the Mamoru stand-in, only for it to be her friend who left with him instead of Juri. It establishes the show’s message of how just because love can transcend social barriers; it doesn’t mean it will always connect on a one-to-one level. That’s an issue going on for people understanding their sexuality, with how their orientation won’t often be shared by those they’re in love with. You can see that as Juri’s jealousy for Utena, seeing her in a stable relationship with another woman while she can’t find something like that in her life.

A big part of me wants to say that this is a great time for “adult animation”. Archer and The Venture Brothers are frequently finding new depths to late night animated affairs, while Bob’s Burgers and Rick and Morty have made up some of the most consistent  laughs of any shows on TV. Yet at the same time, The Simpsons will never be as good as it was in its prime, Family Guy will never be as good as your middle school self remembers it to be, Williams Street continues to mostly make bottom of the barrel stoner junk, and it’s doubtful that FX will find the hopeful compliment to Archer that it’s been aiming for. But with all trends, you must take the good with the bad.

It should be no surprise that Netflix wanted in on the adult cartoon market, now that it’s been starting to make a name for itself with the streaming service’s live-action programs. Recently, Netflix released the premiere season of its first original animated series, BoJack Horseman, and curiosity lead to me getting around to trying it.

Is BoJack worth watching? I think so. But is it a good, or daresay, great show? Well…

BoJack Horseman is about the titular character, a washed-up actor that just so happens to be an anthropomorphic horse. Horseman’s claim to fame comes from a sitcom in the 90’s, Horsin’ Around, which with its combination of a talking horse protagonist, adorable orphans, and typically lame dialogue, would have fit well on ABC’s TGIF lineup. It shouldn’t surprise you to say that clips from the show appear fairly often in Horseman.

Like many former sitcom actors, Horseman hasn’t had a very strong track record outside of his hit series, which we see in the present day. The bulk of the show involves Horseman attempting to get his memoirs off the ground, initially by himself, but now with his ghostwriter doing much of the work. Along the way, pieces of what BoJack was like before, during, and after his sitcom was on the air become present, and one thing is clearly apparent- BoJack Horseman is an asshole.

Now, having an unlikable character as a protagonist isn’t necessarily a bad thing at all- look at Archer, for example. Horseman himself shows shades of the strange bit of likability and grossness that can make an otherwise jackass seem appealing enough to sit through, especially when the joke is on him. Similar to Archer, Horseman has an addictive personality that constantly battles with his hopes to improve, and makes for some good jokes. This isn’t enough to make a character stand on its own, however, and this brings up where the main problem comes from- the writing isn’t consistently strong enough, nor is there much chemistry present, to keep the show afloat.

First, let’s look at the show’s other characters, starting with Horseman’s roommate, Todd, a burnout who initially had little prospects for a future, but as the show later expands upon, has some… unique concepts behind him. Even though it’s meant to be implied that the two characters have a bond by the end of the first season, it never comes off that way, especially as BoJack’s frequent apathy for Todd’s well being becomes a running gag that just never takes off. I’d call Todd a complete nuisance, if it wasn’t for the fact that Horseman sabotaged a business venture for him at around the midpoint of the season, an event that doesn’t become forgotten and eventually comes back to bite Horseman in the ass. For the most part, Todd’s just there, as a roommate and a character, ultimately not letting him have much of an impact.

There is also Princess Carolyn, BoJack’s feline agent/on again-off again girlfriend. One of the better running jokes in the series comes from Carolyn frequently jumping between being Horseman’s agent and ex, making her switching personalities and responses to his needs, often while still maintaining her current job. Also present is Carolyn attempting to, and fail at, expanding her client list. It’s mentioned before that Horseman isn’t her only client- and more than obvious that she would make nothing if he was- yet each other attempts to expand beyond him doesn’t seem to do much for her. We even see other, more successful agents as the show goes on, merely to prove that Princess Carolyn’s good at her job, but might just be too personal to truly succeed, which is a dark move, all things considered. It also does make for one of the show’s stronger aspects, as Horseman and Carolyn have probably the strongest bond on the show, which particularly makes her bipolar spasms seem appropriate. Princess Carolyn’s struggle to be both honest and warm to BoJack is bittersweet, since she’s more or less wasting her time with him, but for some reason, can see the good in the horse.

To round out the core cast, we have Diane, BoJack’s ghostwriter, and her boyfriend Mr. Peanutbutter, a golden retriever that starred in a similar sitcom to Horseman’s from around the same time, and like many a good dog, tries to be best buddies with even his biggest critics. Both are decent enough characters- Diane is easily the smartest character on the show, and isn’t afraid to let Horseman have it when he’s full of shit, while Mr. Peantbutter’s general likability contrasts with the show’s rougher (pun unintended) sensibilities enough to make him stand out. It also makes for a welcome surprise when he does lose his temper, however rarely it’s occurred thus far. But like Todd, neither of the characters really seem to connect to BoJack at all, even though his dislike of Mr. Peanutbutter is generally entertaining.

The show combines human characters with anthropomorphic beings walking side by side, similar to, say, Regular Show. Horseman and Princess Carolyn rarely break into their animalistic nature, but many of the other characters we see, including Mr. Peanutbutter and Cameron “Crowe” (really a raven), often do, usually to mixed results.

It’s strange to say that the series mostly meanders around, since it does have a storyarc that develops over the season, and I can’t really knock the execution behind it at all. Over the course of the season’s twelve episodes, BoJack lets Diane into his life and shares just about everything with her, which not only helps her write his book, but clues the audience into him as a character. Flashbacks to his childhood tell of his typically neglectful parents, and attempt to explain how Horseman became such a rotten person during his stand-up days in the 80’s, onto his sitcom deal and to the present day. Having an ambivalent mother and disturbingly conservative father tends to bring out the worst in people, as Horseman proved by being a self-centered prick.

For the most part, anyway. While some things never do really change, BoJack does admit to wanting to fix what he’s done wrong since then, which is partly why he made his book deal (he mainly acquired it as a chance to revitalize his career, but there are hints at Horseman hoping to change his perception with his book). In one episode, Horseman attempts to help his former child co-star, now a pop star with a drug problem, by allowing her to stay at his house with him and Todd and keep an eye on her. Another episode has BoJack visit the co-creator of his old series, one he initially screwed over during its run and is now dying from terminal cancer. Neither endeavor ends well for Horseman, but both episodes attempt to explore his hopes to change and make amends, as well as go into detail to show exactly what his glory days were like. Even though Horseman was a bit of a jerk there, it becomes apparent that he did and still does care about the people who came into his life, which makes him at least somewhat likable.

This works in the show’s favor, but as I said before, BoJack Horseman still feels disjointed. The series never really does find the right pacing, as it goes from rapid-fire, ala a screwball comedy from the 30’s and 40’s, to as slowly set as a Wes Anderson movie, often switching between the two only minutes apart. A balance between the two is doable, but the people behind the series never seem sure if they want it to be quick-witted or a slow grower. Even at the end of the season, the pacing is still off, which is never a good sign.

It also becomes disappointing when the show turns into a love triangle, between BoJack, Diane, and Mr. Peanutbutter. Love triangles are one of the oldest cliches in storytelling, and are truthfully more common in fiction than reality, which never ceases to confuse me as to why they’re still being used today. It doesn’t help that Diane, as agreeable of a character as she is, never feels particularly right with either character, not even counting the fact that she’s a human, and the guys aren’t. Diane’s an articulate person, which you can’t say about Horseman or Peanutbutter, as she often comes off like a wet napkin to PB’s endless joy, especially as she consistently makes it no secret that she isn’t a fan of being taped 24/7 for his VH1 series. Conversely, BoJack is too much of a pessimist to make him come off as a romantic character, especially as it becomes apparent that his affection is one-sided. Diane grows to like the horse as a person, but not as a love interest, even though this plot never truly leaves.

Additionally, it is equally disappointing to see the show attempt to rip into Hollywood, without saying anything unique or even really inspired about it. Many a TV series, or movie, book, stage show, etc have dug into the excesses of the industry, many doing so in dark or even poignant ways, but BoJack Horseman‘s usual shtick does little more than bring up the stresses of keeping up momentum, the studio’s money-grubbing nature, or random pop culture references meant to tie the scene together, none of which make for anything all that original.

The series is brought to life by Raphael Bob-Waksberg, a member of the Olde English comedy troupe from New York, an act I’m unfamiliar with, and from what I can tell, doesn’t have much involvement with the show themselves. It doesn’t seem like Bob-Waksberg has any history in animation, which doesn’t surprise me in the least. The show is animated… to say the least. The cheap flash look is increasingly becoming tiresome in this climate, and this series isn’t exactly a startling exception to that rule. However, I wasn’t expecting Disney or Ghibli-level quality here, which you’ll rarely get in adult animation (The Boondocks being a rare exception), so I can’t fault the series too much here.

There is good in BoJack Horseman. Every episode, from the rough premiere to the ever-slightly more confident finale, have at least a couple of strong jokes spread around, even those that rely on celebrity or movie spoofs. The show is able to combine sardonic wit and honest, humorous anger rather well, often in the same scene. on top of that, the voice cast is quite solid. Will Arnett and Aaron Paul do well as BoJack and Todd (both are also executive producers for the series), while Amy Sedaris never stops bringing Princess Carolyn to life, and pulls off a wide range of dialogue in record time. I also can’t knock a show with Alison Brie too much, even we only have her voice, and she doesn’t quite get her role as Diane right away. And as mentioned before, I do see a solid arc attempted to be told, and succeeded at certain points.

However, the show never does evolve as much more than an enjoyable pastime during its first season. Like most of its other originals, Netflix has renewed BoJack for a second season, so in about a year, we may be able to see if Bob-Waksberg and crew can turn the show into something special by then. As for now, if you haven’t caught up with each of the 4 shows mentioned in my first paragraph, I strongly recommend getting to them first. If you have, maybe you’ll find BoJack Horseman to be a solid diversion like I did, or perhaps even like it more than myself. This isn’t required viewing at all, but if you have a Netflix account, it’s worth a look.