“There is but one truly serious philosophical
problem and that is suicide.”
Albert Camus.
The Horse That Crosses Every
Line: How BoJack transcends Epistemological Distinctions.
For a show that is so
self-referential, postmodern and memetic that it appears at first to have
absolutely no subtext, drawing upon its overtness for both its comedic and
artistic value, BoJack Horseman
certainly lends itself to a lot of speculation by fans. Perhaps that is a part
of its brilliancy; after all, it is bound to attract a sense of humour that
loves to deconstruct projections and to denounce attempts to make sense of
nonsense, so fan theorists are likely to be ridiculed for their desperation to
find a “hidden” meaning underneath all the layers of explicit satire and
criticism. Yet, if we are to be honest with ourselves, the postmodern,
no-holds-barred format of the show’s writing, one that seems only to restrain itself
as an ironic reference to censorship, litigation, and Scientology, is almost as
suffused with references, nuances, and in-jokes transcending class and creed as
a post-structural philosophical text by Deleuze or Derrida. Even considering
what is “overtly” overt, it is all too easy to THINK that one understands the
situation as it has been presented, yet further analysis and review will prove
this presumption false. In effect, everything in a show’s presentation is “overt”,
whether it is registered consciously or unconsciously by the viewer. To draw a
definitive line between “text” and “subtext”, in a show so contemporary and
free of form, is already to become the target of a satirical metajoke. Yes: it’s
all right there in the open. But like Gustavo Fring from Breaking Bad (or the extremely manipulative woman in Vince Gilligan’s
early work on the X-files), the show’s
meanings are “hidden in plain sight.” What is “overt” is simply that which is “overtly”
overt, and that sense of its being “formal” or “explicit” text is derived
directly from its meaning crossing the threshold of a viewer’s consciousness. As
such, it is wrong to say that viewers “read too much into” the show, for there appears
to be no definite point at which the reference is “improbable” or “projected”,
just as there is no definite line at which a viewer may be considered “slow” or
“misinformed” for missing a given joke or reference. As much as it pains me to
admit it, anything goes in analyzing this show, and what at first appears farfetched
seems irrefutable upon reflection.
BoJack Kills: the fringes of BoJack
Film Theory Regarding Suicide.
The leading question is,
therefore: will BoJack die? More specifically, fans are curious to see if he
will kill himself. There is plenty of foreshadowing throughout the show leading
up to every tragic outcome, whether it is Sarah Lynn’s death, Butterscotch
Horseman’s affair, Diane and Mr. Peanutbutter’s divorce, or the lobotomy of Beatrice’s
mother. BoJack’s suicide is also heavily referenced. Some radical theorists
even suggest that he has already killed himself and that the events of the
series thus far take place in a surreal afterlife, such as in two psychological
films whose titles I will not divulge so as not to spoil them for fans of
mind-bending psychological drama.
Knowing your film history can
certainly help you to catch some subtle jokes and references throughout BoJack, and if his death is alluded to by
reference to other cinematic deaths then we might gather evidence to corroborate
these morbid theories. The details are chilling when one digs into them. One of
the most revelatory episodes regarding BoJack’s depressive self-destruction is Stupid Piece of Sh*t, wherein BoJack
inexplicably stops his car halfway down Mulholland Drive. Some viewers have
pointed out as well that Naomi Watts’ character in One Trick Pony has a split personality when she loses herself in
the role of a young woman named “Diane”, who I should note was at some point a server
who served coffee.
The paragraph above essentially
functions as one long reference, though regarding what I shall not divulge. Needless
to say, fans of both works will marvel at the parallels. After all: some of
those details, which are extremely overt, only seem to serve a function in the
context of a film reference that also carries deep existential weight. Yet are
they conclusive??
Breaking BoJack: how BoJack
descends into Madness.
If BoJack has, indeed, killed
himself in a previous life, then the events of this series are likely to lead
up to a reliving of that event. The perversion of our contemporary world in
this case not only serves a satirical purpose but is central to the plot. Why is
the “D” removed from “Hollywood”, without any sensible ramifications? Why are
anthropomorphic animals running about like in one of Aesop’s fables? Why are
most of the celebrity names changed, though not all? Is it impossible that
BoJack is in fact only DREAMING that he was once a successful actor, only to
discover, by degrees, that he was a colossal failure? Again, parallels to the
aforementioned film are striking, and further research in quest of fellow
observers noticing the same details only produces more details corroborating
this theory independently. Yet if we must draw a line, let’s examine the “hard
facts”.
But You Can’t Make Him Stop
Drinking: Alcohol and Revelation.
In It’s You, BoJack claims that there will be plenty of onlookers when
he kills himself, as if he knows. Intoxication produces more insight and clairvoyance
for him, time and time again, than do his attempts at sobriety. If, in fact, he
is living in a Dream, then only intoxication can produce this, though plenty of
characters try to steer him away from it.
The Duality between dream and
intoxication is found in Nietzsche’s early work on Drama and Music, known as The Birth of Tragedy. The observation is
not premature, since Nietzsche, like Sartre, is referenced, however passingly,
in Season Five (according to a parody of one of his quotes on Flip McVicker’s
white board.). If Apollo and Dionysus represent conflicting states of
consciousness, then the only means by which to escape one is to indulge to
excess in the other. When BoJack “escapes” reality, he also comes to terms with
it, though what he comes to realize is difficult to accept.
Most of the really “positive”
influences in BoJack’s “life” try to steer him towards sobriety. Every woman
who claims to love him, be it Wanda, Hollyhock or Gina, tries to lead the horse
to sobriety, by various methods, whether it is Wanda’s hands-off approach,
Hollyhock’s admonition, or Gina’s overt interference.
All three of these women
represent his positive qualities. Wanda is successful in the industry which
BoJack despises, knowing nothing of his history. Hollyhock represents his childlike
innocence and relatively normal insecurities. Gina is grounded and
professional, representing his ability to settle into happiness instead of
chasing greatness.
Conversely, the women that tend
to lead him back INTO hypnosis are those who represent more negative qualities.
Beatrice Horseman represents the inability to love, a deeply repressed maternal
instinct that only comes out when she, too, is no longer in her “right mind”. Sarah
Lynn represents the temptations of the celebrity lifestyle: a source of existential
despair but also a great convenience. And then there is, of course: Diane, for
whom we stole the “D” from Hollywood. Of all supporting characters, she is
perhaps the most obvious character foil; since Zoes and Zeldas, it’s suggested that she and BoJack share a
personality type, even if only as a stereotype. Diane has far too many hang-ups
to list, but it’s safe to say that, despite superficial differences in ideology
and policy, she and BoJack represent the same difficulties adjusting to modern
life.
All three of these women take
part in drinking and even drug-taking with the hero. Beatrice actually forces young
BoJack’s curiosity about cigarettes, Sarah Lynn goes on several benders with
him, and Diane binge drinks with him on multiple occasions. Diane, too, has
revelations whilst under the influence of amphetamines, dreaming up multiple “Dianes”
she has not yet discovered, yet another reference to dissociative identity
disorder surrounding the name “Diane”. While it is, in fact, Diane that
ultimately brings BoJack to rehab, this is only after she has divorced Mr. Peanutbutter
(thereby effectively becoming “another Diane” and fulfilling her own drug-induced
prophecy). At this point, it is likely that she is about to become a “positive
influence” in BoJack’s life, perhaps even romantically, as Mr. Peanutbutter
proposed to Pickles the waitress. Yet, like all other “positive influences”,
her solution is inauthentic and serves only to forestall what appears to be
inevitable.
Two Tracks to Run In: Does
BoJack Have a Choice?
The most obvious overlying
metaphor is that of running: running from problems, running in circles, running
from nothing, running up a hill. BoJack’s role model is a race horse who
committed suicide; Diane wrote the book on Secretariat, so why WOULDN’T he
dream that she wrote a book about him? Perhaps he committed suicide in the
hopes of becoming great? After all: he mentions that “only the greats die young”.
Some intellectuals are said to have committed suicide so as to become gods. Is
BoJack the god of his own Universe, not in the Christian sense of a God who is
omnipotent and omniscient, but rather in the Hindu sense of a god who has
forgotten his true identity and has surrendered control to the dream he has
fabricated for himself? It’s not as though BoJack’s decadent lifestyle does not
already agree with this metaphor.
At the end of Season One, BoJack
is informed that he is a young person’s hero. At the start of that same
episode, we see Secretariat’s suicide overtly. In Season Two, BoJack and Diane lament
the studio’s decision to overwrite Secretariat’s tragic demise. Is it
impossible that this expresses Bob-Waksberg’s own fears of his tragedy being
censored by Netflix? I suppose that the creators have had some years by now to
work that out with the Wandas, Zeldas and Turtletaubs that they have to work
with. Yet even this process serves a reminder: we all have a choice. BoJack’s
existential struggle is that he cannot take responsibility for his own
happiness. He feels too much guilt for pursuing happiness, so he only submerges
himself in things which will make him miserable. Perhaps, if this show is truly
a form of Purgatory, he is reliving his last few years in order to set things
right: to win the Race of Life. Sure: in Secretariat,
it ends up being COMPUTER BoJack that gets the good ending. Yet is it
impossible that our hero might LEARN something from that movie which he sabotaged
and then abandoned, like so many other dreams? Perhaps there truly are two
lanes for him to run in. If taking responsibility for one’s own happiness
proves only to be another form of self-destructive narcissism, as critics of
Sartre have demonstrated in recent generations of philosophical inquiry, then
perhaps the goal for BoJack is NOT to attain happiness by chasing it but rather
to FIND it as a byproduct of living meaningfully. He still has a chance to make
things right, and he is known for doing just that. Season One ends with a
successful audition for his favourite film. Season Two ends with a selfless but
sincere act of friendship towards Todd Chavez, after a failed attempt to
restore his friendship with Charlotte. Sure: all of these bridges are burned
eventually. Yet what about his relationship with his sister? BoJack may not
always do the right thing or even try, but when he gives it an honest effort he
does make some progress. The only problem seems to be that for every step
forward there are two steps back. But what if this is not the case? What if the
steps backwards are simply steps in a new direction? After all: he changes.
What at first appears to be a terminal narcissist proves to be a deeply scarred
child. He may win yet.
[({Dm.A.A.)}]
No comments:
Post a Comment