by Heidi Krull, Staff Writer

August 22nd marked the tenth anniversary of BoJack Horseman, a seedy comedy that truly shifted the public’s perception of what comedy means. Through a million little character complexities and on point social commentary, BoJack shined during its six season run.

A great many TV shows successfully capture the idea of the anti-hero, but this type of character primarily appears in gut-wrenching dramas such as Breaking Bad and Macbeth. BoJack Horseman, voiced by Will Arnett, is not someone an audience would typically root for. He is, for lack of a better word, a selfish prick who thinks fame earns him respect from everyone around him. He has a severe drinking problem, is a womanizer, and treats his friends as if they are expendable. But despite all of those things being inarguably true, I personally found myself feeling sorry for him quite often. This character archetype is unique and mostly unfounded in comedy shows, and BoJack being so unlikeable yet so complex set the stage for the show’s overall success.

The animation style of the show is also something that sets BoJack apart. Initially, watching humans interact with strange animal humanoid creatures was quite jarring. Yellow labs and humans in the real world don’t fall in love and get married, but the world in this show pushes those boundaries, making every creature, human or animal, very alike. The animation style adds an extra layer of comedy into the mix as well. BoJack, a horse-human, is frequently depicted engaging in sexual acts with human women. I have to admit I was thrown off upon my first watch, but these scenes are both necessary to BoJack’s character development and the overall comedic value of the show. There are often cut-away scenes of birds in full suits holding briefcases yet flying to work or sitting on a cable wire. The dog characters (such as the infamous Mr. Peanutbutter) do typical dog things, like chasing the mailman and sleeping in oversized dog beds. The ridiculousness that I felt at first, though, slowly dissipated. All of the characters, human or not, were so deeply compelling that the animation didn’t matter anymore. Part of what made BoJack so successful was the character-driven nature of it. The audience can ignore that a character is a pink cat because her story is personal, relatable, and undeniably human.

My favorite part of this show, and the reason I keep revisiting it, is its realistic depiction of growth, or lack of growth. BoJack himself, the narcissist he is, struggles to improve himself throughout the series because he frankly does not want to. He sees himself as the victim in every situation when he is clearly the antagonist, and because he justifies everything he does, his actions get more and more despicable as time goes on. The people, or the animals, in his life have their own struggles, too. Diane, voiced by Alison Brie, deals with extreme depressive episodes, but still helps BoJack even when she knows he’s wrong. Similarly, BoJack’s agent, Princess Carolyn, voiced by Amy Sedaris, consistently goes above and beyond protecting his image despite him ruining it every few business days. BoJack puts down everyone around him, especially his roommate Todd, voiced by Aaron Paul, who sees BoJack as both his best friend and essentially a god, at first. Each of these characters goes through multiple levels of personal growth, all without BoJack’s help. BoJack, on the other hand, has all the help in the world, but refuses to see the error to his ways, and eventually ends up in a situation he cannot undo. BoJack as a character proves that you can be a sympathetic person, yet still be irredeemable.

BoJack Horseman certainly deals with some dark themes, but what I think truly makes the comedic value of this show unmatched are the endless social commentary bits. There are dozens of returning characters that have one function: make fun of a real famous person or situation. “A Ryan Seacrest Type” is one of my personal favorites. He comes along every few episodes to deliver celebrity gossip and “news” happening in the show, and it is a fabulously accurate depiction of what those talk shows are actually like. BoJack is also incredibly apt at making light out of otherwise dim situations. I always think back to season three, episode 6, titled “Brrap Brrap Pew Pew,” which has the writer’s take on the abortion debate. This episode is obviously hilarious, but also brings attention to the fact that many people are only empathetic to famous people who have had abortions, and not those who are downtrodden in society. There are many episodes similar to this one, and they frankly never miss the mark on both the social commentary or the comedic aspect.

Every character in BoJack Horseman is complicated, sometimes endearing, and sometimes frustrating. The audience is taken through waves of emotion and exposed to the darkness that some of these characters display but are brought back into the satirical nature of the show through clever writing and a profound understanding of real people and circumstances. This show has all personalities on display and brings its audience along with each of them. There is a raw intimacy that BoJack created, one that is going to be difficult to contend with in the future.