The world of entertainment is obsessed with pain. Talking about hurt, loss and even mental health challenges is, for lack of a better word, popular right now, and I do not have a problem with that.
What does bother me, though, is when issues of real pain are portrayed on screen in a way that just does not seem… real. What I mean by this is that it seems like many shows are willing to boast a script that uses the word “depression,” but very few are bold enough to show a character experiencing depression – really, truly experiencing its effects in all the ways a real person does.
Enter “BoJack Horseman”: A show that is willing to take a painfully realistic look at hurt.
A little background: “BoJack Horseman” is set in a cartoon world where animals and humans live alongside each other, as do some animal-human hybrids. One of which is the star of the show and its namesake: BoJack Horseman. As his name suggests, he is half-horse, half-man. But that is far from the most interesting thing about BoJack. The show begins with him being already middle-aged. Once an extremely successful TV star, he now lives a lavish and wealthy lifestyle surrounded by many acquaintances but few friends and doing nothing that has any real purpose.
While his formerly-famous status shields him from many of the external discomforts of the world, he has to deal with internal pain just like the rest of us. And it is this that I think makes the show so profound and what made it stand out to me when I first watched it.
Throughout the show, we witness BoJack deal with storylines that are so realistic, they become at times almost too relatable. It makes me feel uncomfortable but in a good way. As though what I am seeing is familiar, and the characters are people I have talked to before. It makes me want to somehow enter their world and join the conversation because I know the exact pain they are talking about and I have asked the exact questions they are asking.
If you are anything like me, you will start out seeing BoJack almost as a sort of villain. He is self-centered, does not treat his friends the way he should and never takes responsibility for his actions; you will probably find yourself really disliking him for those traits.
But as you progress through the episodes, something horrifying will begin to happen. At least, it will if you are anything like me. You will start to see yourself in BoJack. You will realize the reason he puts you on edge is that he is struggling through the obstacles in his life in the exact ways you are struggling through the obstacles in yours. But weirdly enough, there is something so comforting about coming to that horrifying realization.
I think what bothers me about how most shows and movies portray mental health is how oversimplified it is. It usually goes like this:
- A character has a mental struggle.
- They experience something that “changes their perspective.”
- The struggle goes away.
And while that would be an amazing way for life to go, the truth is that it usually just does not go like that, and BoJack Horseman does not try to uphold any pretenses that it does.
One of my favorite scenes of the entire series shows BoJack sitting and talking with his close friend Diane on the balcony of his house in LA. The scene comes directly on the heels of BoJack messing up and alienating himself from his friends, then realizing how much he needs them. This is a pattern that is repeated often in the show. BoJack asks Diane if she thinks he is a good person. When she does not immediately answer the way he was hoping she would, he starts to beg.
“I need you to tell me that I’m a good person,” he says. “I know that I can be selfish and narcissistic and self-destructive, but underneath all that, deep down, I’m a good person, and I need you to tell me that I’m good. Diane? Tell me, please, Diane. Tell me that I’m good.”
She does not answer. No matter how bad he wants her to, she does not answer. As his question hangs in the air, wanting desperately to be answered, we are left trying to answer it for ourselves.
Truth be told, that scene was nothing short of inspiring to me. Not because Diane did not answer his question, but because of what he was asking in the first place. Underneath all of his pain and baggage, he holds onto a sliver of hope. Hope that he is not destined to be bad. Hope that deep down, he is actually good. The desperation in his voice when he says those hopes out loud is gripping. Gripping because it is a hope I hold onto as well.
Though BoJack Horseman shows pain in a surprisingly up close and personal fashion, the show is far from being a downer. In fact, I leave most episodes feeling strangely uplifted. I am still not sure the reason for this, but I have a theory. I think it is because of the off-brand hope that runs underneath every episode of every season. A hope that is summed up best in a line from the show: “Every day it gets a little easier. But you’ve got to do it every day. That’s the hard part.”
“BoJack Horseman” depicts a world without the nuances edited out. A world where relationships are not black and white, pain is not simple and growth is not linear; rather, it is a long walk, and the times you trip will not ruin you so long as you keep walking.
BoJack Horseman is available to stream on Netflix.
