Bojack Horseman (courtesy: Netflix)
I am loathe to summarize Bojack Horseman in nutshell-form because it’s actually quite hard to classify. As of now there are twenty-five episodes across two seasons available and the while the first quarter or so of the series doesn’t do much to differentiate itself from forerunners in the adult-oriented animated arena, the latter half of the first season and the following season offers up drama in a way that few comedies seem willing to attempt.
The show stars Will Arnett in the title role of a washed-up sitcom actor trying to reclaim his former glory and the easiest comparison is probably Archer in terms of the latter being a spiritual predecessor of sorts. Both deal in pretty over-the-top premises, somewhat unlikable but also emotionally stunted titular leads, and a colorful, if occasionally one-note, background cast. Both shows ultimately traffic in laughs but aren’t afraid of the swirling maelstrom in their characters’ souls. But I think where the two diverge is that Bojack delves even deeper into the fragile psyche of a damaged man. In some ways, Bojack is just as similar to Mad Men as it is to Archer or say, Community.
A deep well that Bojack oftens returns to is the surreal reality of life in Hollywood and of the inner workings of the entertainment industry at large. Another limitless source of laughs is the sometimes off-putting but consistently funny imagining of a world where animals are bi-pedal and can talk. They just drop you into a reality where this happens to be the case and the material just writes itself really. Not every bit works, but as is the case with other great comedies, the show takes risks and the payoff is worth it. Some punchlines are as crass as you might expect from a show of its ilk, and there are copious sight-gags and allusions in every episode which welcome repeat-viewing a la Arrested Development.
I would behoove me (get it?) to mention the voice cast. Arnett (Arrested Development) turns in performances that make me wish for a voice-over category at the Emmy’s. (Sure, it would be between him, H. Jon Benjamin and Seth MacFarlane every year, but whatever.) Aaron Paul (Breaking Bad) turns out to be surprisingly adept in the recording booth, but considering the quality of his line-reads in Breaking Bad, it shouldn’t come as a shock that he delivers superb stuff as Bojack’s roommate, Todd. Rounding out the cast are the similarly excellent Alison Brie (Community), Paul F. Tompkins (Comedy Bang! Bang!) and Amy Sedaris (Strangers with Candy).
Bojack made me laugh as hard as any comedy has in recent memory, but also found the space for some really heart-rending sequences where you find yourself hoping for the best possible result for the characters involved but know that it won’t always come. If you decide to give it a go, keep going until about episode seven or eight. If you aren’t digging on it by then, feel free to continue watching The Bachelor or whatever garbage it is that you’re watching these days.
BigFootInMouthDisease 