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A Case for Animation:Bojack Horseman

  • Mukisa Mujulizi
  • Nov 11
  • 5 min read

-Mukisa Mujulizi

“The universe is a cruel uncaring void. The key to being happy isn’t the search for meaning, it’s to just keep yourself busy with unimportant nonsense. And eventually, you’ll be dead.”

– Mr Peanutbutter says, with a big smile on his face.

 

I asked my therapist in our most recent session for advice on how to spot a depressive episode coming on. She gave me some great insights on what to look for (go to therapy), such as noticing a shift both in behavior, and lack thereof (please, I beg of you, go to therapy). For example, something I desperately enjoy is writing and that desire does not pay rent. But if I have gone a couple weeks without the desire to write, I should note that absence. It could be nothing, it could be a busier schedule, or it could be the signs of a general depression. This all has a point, I promise.  One behavior I took to noticing, prior to these sessions, is that if you catch me watching Bojack Horseman, you can be very safe in assuming something is wrong. Now, I recognize that this is not the most compelling introduction to a “watch this show” piece, but if you value art for the same reasons I do, I hope this serves as a compelling case.

 

This is an incredibly difficult show to sell, precisely because the show itself serves as a Trojan Horse. In this case, the horse is this stylistically whacky, anthropomorphic characters, with bright colors, and humor that seems rather lowbrow. The soldiers hiding in the horse are what I would like to call the center of the show; emotional violence. Bojack Horseman is extremely violent, because in one scene these are just characters you are laughing with, and generally rooting for the best outcome, yet it is in this precise moment, that the show kidnaps your soul and demands a lesson in philosophy. In fact, this serves as the whole show’s function.


The show critiques Hollywood and the vacuous nature of the film/media industry. It highlights the powers that be, how this power is wielded, and follows the day to day of our main characters who are enraptured by it. The core message of the show, at least initially, is how Hollywood itself is a Trojan Horse. It sells itself as something it absolutely is not, and the show follows how people learn to deal with that moment of disillusionment. The show’s main character, Bojack, is an Existential Nihilist. Without getting too deep into philosophy, he – and in many ways the show – essentially believes that life is entirely meaningless.  This meaninglessness is something we must learn to navigate or risk falling into deep despair.

 

Dark, right? I know. This wouldn’t be much of a show if the characters didn’t have to constantly be at odds with themselves, their own personal beliefs, and each other, as they grow and adapt as people. This is where the value in its emotional terrorism emerges, in its ability to look at a character doing terrible things and ask whether they are redeemable. The show questions whether there is a truly “good” or “bad” person, arguing that there is no good or bad. Some people do good things, some do bad. It is the totality of these behaviors that make us who we are. For our main character, this is initially what sends him into a drug infused spiral, dragging everyone else along with him. In fact, this behavior repeats itself season after season. But the show isn’t itself inherently defeatist. The very nihilism it presents, and the personal agency it denotes, is precisely what it argues can pull us out of these dark(er) moments of our lives.

 

If there is no inherent meaning to life, and therefore no governing structure for ‘being’, then how you navigate yourself through life becomes determined by your own actions and behaviors. Ultimately, you are in control. There is great freedom in that, because it removes one’s ability to blame bad behaviors on an ‘inherent’ trait, and this, therefore, allows bad behaviors to be redeemed. It allows someone who has consistently broken promises, fallen to addiction, fallen to grief etc., a way out. A way to start their life anew and do better. One day at a time.


A quote from the show that I find myself returning to is in the second season, when Bojack is struggling to run and is encountered by an unnamed neighbor who says to him,


“It gets easier. Every day, it gets a little easier. But you gotta do it every day – that’s the hard part. But it does get easier.”

And this quote is reflective of the inner workings of the show itself. It is demanding its audience to not give up, while simultaneously highlighting the true difficulties inherent in the act of recovery.

 

This show’s philosophy is etched rather clearly as the show begins, and later works itself into the narrative in far more subtle ways. The difficulty, and why I began this piece in the manner I did, is in sitting through constant explorations of the human condition through these characters. The multitude of metal health issues this show covers is such that anyone who has been through anything can see themselves in all these characters. The trouble with looking in a mirror is having to come to terms with what you are seeing. But I appreciate this show for doing just that. Because while I do cry, often rather loudly, to certain episodes of this show, I also recognize its ability to heal me – its audience.

 

The case for animation in this sense, is a rather clear one; animation can do what live-action cannot. It can turn to surrealism to tap into our emotional centers, disarming even the most shielded of us, to open wounds that need addressing. We very rarely find time in our lives to truly ponder the meaning of life. Our time has been captured by our devices, thus limiting our ability to sit quietly and think through these questions. Shows like Bojack Horseman do the simultaneous task of entertaining us, and therefore scratching that distracted psyche’s itch, while forcing us to ponder the human condition during its run time. There are very few shows in all genres that can thread that needle. Bojack Horseman is one of them.

 

An important disclaimer: if you are going through mental or emotional health issues, I would not recommend watching this show. At least not during your times of struggle. This show is a double-edged sword in that it can absolutely pull you out of very dark times. But it can also suck you back into them. I know this, as I have found myself finding comfort in the discomfort of the show, and while that can make you feel seen, it can also hinder one’s progression. So, I would advise you to proceed with caution.

 
 
 

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