‘BoJack Horseman’ Season 5 Takes a Hard Look at the Skeletons Hiding in Its Own Closet

For the past four seasons, Netflix’s depressed horse show BoJack Horseman has occupied a rare stratosphere of the television landscape. No matter how heart-wrenchingly wonderful a season has been, its following season has always managed to break the imagined limitations of the medium and be better than its predecessor. Season 5 follows that trend, delivering a series of interconnected stories that is hilarious on a surface level, sweetly soulful, and at times horrifyingly relevant.

But in its fifth season, BoJack Horseman shifts the focus from BoJack’s self-hatred, instead peeling apart traits and crutches that have previously been overlooked. For BoJack (Will Arnett) that means spending a significant amount of time unpacking his addiction to his preferred depression cure — booze and drugs. In Diane’s (Alison Brie) case, it means staring down her high moral standards and questioning what they’re doing to her self-worth, knowing she can never meet them. Even character traits that initially seemed positive are re-evaluated this season. For Mr. Peanutbutter (Paul F. Tompkins) that means breaking down the causes and effects of his relentless optimism. And Princess Carolyn (Amy Sedaris) is forced to look the consequences of her own fierce independence right in the eyes. BoJack has always had a strong group cast, but this is the first time the series has fully transcended from a narrow focus on its self-hating antihero.

There’s also something painfully human about waiting until Season 5 to explore these secondary struggles. It feels as though creator Raphael Bob-Waksberg and his brilliant writer’s room understand that when people are trying to fix themselves, they almost always develop tunnel vision around what they think is their “one big flaw.” It’s only through exhausting amounts of self-reflection and time that it becomes clear that the path to self-betterment never has just one hurdle. There are many, and each one requires a different reserve of strength to overcome. Life is hard, whether you’re an alcoholic horse, a pink cat, or even a human.

Unsurprisingly this season’s focus on the long game doesn’t merely translate to its more dramatic moments. Some of the sharpest jokes of the season are either callbacks to previous seasons or bits that slowly build over the course of multiple episodes. That’s especially true of Henry Fondle, a sex robot that makes several appearances and holds his own arc, mixing it up with Todd (Aaron Paul). Henry Fondle’s first appearance will likely inspire a few laughs because he’s such a vulgar robot; but the joke wears quickly wears thin, only to become funny again through this season’s extreme repetition. By the time BoJack delivers Henry’s final few punchlines, the savage point the show is making has transformed what could have been a throwaway character into an essential part of this narrative.

And yet underneath all of the hurt-filled revelations and silly tongue twisters, this new season resonates with hope. Much like in Season 2’s moving finale, BoJack is still trying to better himself, but this time he’s not alone. All of the characters in this complicated show about personal examination are trying to grow. And though they all slide backwards in their own ways, each one is truly making progress, one step at a time. To paraphrase a wise baboon jogger: it gets easier.

Watch BoJack Horseman on Netflix