BoJack Horseman Review

Raphael Bob-Waksberg created BoJack Horseman for Netflix, the service's first animated original for adults, and the first six episodes are the price of entry: an industry parody stuffed with animal puns, about a washed-up sitcom star nobody has much reason to like. From the season one finale it becomes something harder, a study of a man who hurts people, apologizes convincingly and does it again, and its central insight, that self awareness is not the same thing as change, is a real one.

The peaks are formal risks. Free Churro is a twenty minute eulogy delivered as a monologue, Fish Out of Water is almost entirely silent, and Time's Arrow renders dementia as visual decay. Will Arnett, Alison Brie and Amy Sedaris do fine voice work, and the background gags stay sharp even in the bleakest hours.

The trouble is the rhythm around those peaks. The show's great insight becomes its routine: BoJack relapses, someone gets hurt, he is sorry, and the season resets, so that by the last two seasons the cycle is being repeated rather than examined. The Hollywoo satire lands broadly, the puns wear thin across six seasons, and the supporting characters' arcs often stall for a season at a time. The final two episodes make a serious argument about consequences, and the best hours rank with anything in the medium, but they sit inside a series that is good far more often than it is great.