The Simpsons, move over – 10 Years on, BoJack Horseman is the best animated show of all time

There's no denying that The Simpsons changed the game for animation, for comedy and for TV as a whole. It should not be understated how strong those early seasons of the show are, or how evolutionary the series has been.

In spite of all this, I would argue there is one series which trumps it. The reason I can be so certain that it would top a list of the best animated shows of all time is because it also happens to be one of, if not the best show of all time, full stop. That show, of course, is BoJack Horseman.

It's been 10 years since the first season of BoJack Horseman landed on Netflix and, for those who haven't seen it (which is, quite frankly, more people than it should be), it is set in a world filled with anthropomorphised animals.

Centring around Hollywood (or Hollywoo or Hollywoob, depending on your preference), it follows the titular BoJack Horseman, a horse and former TV star who led critically reviled yet culturally beloved '90s sitcom Horsin' Around, a fictional show with an unfathomably catchy theme tune.

The series follows BoJack years after the cancellation of Horsin' Around, as he strives to find a place in the world, reacquire the stardom he has since lost and, ultimately, achieve that ever-evasive state - happiness.

Featuring the voices of Will Arnett as BoJack, Alison Brie as his ghost writer and friend Diane, Amy Sedaris as his agent and ex-girlfriend Princess Carolyn, Paul F Tompkins as his warm-hearted and irritatingly chirpy frenemy and Aaron Paul as his friend and house guest, it ran for six seasons between 2014 and 2020.

In its first few episodes, it presented as a knock-about comedy, complete with cutaway gags a la Family Guy. However, what happened around the midway point of that season is what made it the revered quantity it is today.

It was always planned, of course, and the show's writers deserve a huge amount of credit for being willing to bury the lede, and trust the audience (and Netflix) to stay with the show to find the real meat on the bone.

At that midway point in season 1, the show suddenly changed gears, and while it retained its wacky, comedic sensibilities, it also started to explore topics more seriously and with greater depth, taking the characters to darker places and delivering some real gut-punch moments.

Mental health, depression, trauma, addiction, self-acceptance, sexuality, cultural heritage, women's rights, #MeToo, cancel culture, gun violence - all of these and plenty more were explored across the six seasons of BoJack Horseman, all of which with the deft and care required.

The brilliance of the show lay in not just addressing these issues, but the ways in which it chose to do so, and the perceptiveness it showed throughout.

Profound insights are frequently made with little warning but with a sharpness of mind. Watching it back, it often feels like the show is even learning from itself in real time, as later seasons address contentious decisions made in its earlier seasons, such as the potential glamorisation of BoJack's behaviours and Alison Brie's casting as Diane, a Vietnamese-American character.

One of the aspects of the show which I personally have known some to find off-putting is its animation style. In truth, it can be jarring at first - the character designs and the look of the show are both distinct, and therefore may require an adjustment to begin with.

However, not only do you soon settle into the style, but you also realise how breathtakingly beautiful this series can be. Every scene is packed with incredible character designs and backdrops, each with such attention to detail.

Background gags come thick and fast, so much so that you'll never managed to spot them all on a first watch. This is perhaps no more noticeable than in season 3's acclaimed episode Fish Out of Water, which features almost no dialogue, but still manages to tell a gorgeous story and enhance our understanding of the character, simply through the use of visuals.

This episode, one of a number of experimental instalments across the show's run, also cleverly utilises a key aspect of its DNA, which is, of course, its world of anthropomorphised animals.

Episodes like this help the world to feel expansive and lived-in, and while the inspiration for the use of animals came from animator Lisa Hanawalt's drawings, the decision also feels inspired on a story level.

Creator Raphael Bob-Waksberg has explained that the use of animals to explore very human topics allowed the show to go deeper and darker than a series just about humans, or a live-action show, might be able to, particularly while retaining its identity as a comedy.

And boy, does BoJack Horseman get dark. Take season 3's storyline which culminates in the death of Sarah Lynn, BoJack's former child co-star from his Horsin' Around days. Not only did he provide her with the drugs and indulge her addictive behaviour after she had gotten sober, but we also learn he was at least partly responsible for her initial addiction in the first place.

You may think it can't get darker from there. But how about season 4, which reveals that BoJack's grandmother was lobotimised by her husband, to deal with her "hysteria" over the death of her son? Or season 5, when, while hooked on opioids, BoJack strangles his co-star Gina while in a confused haze?

Season 6 arguably takes things to a whole new level, as BoJack's debt comes due and his misdeeds are exposed. It's a sad, sorry end for the character, one with a glimmer of hope on the horizon, but which is, in so many ways, deserved.

Coming in an era following Breaking Bad, BoJack Horseman notably became more and more interested in examining, and admonishing, the actions of its anti-heroic protagonist.

While other shows seemed more than happy to revel in their central character's immoral behaviour, the writers of BoJack were quick to correct anyone who took pride in feeling like they related in some way to his debauchery and fallibility.

It's to the show's credit that it helped people understand themselves and their own behaviours, but, as is made particularly clear in season 5, it never wanted them to believe that because BoJack did bad things, they could also do bad things and be reassured it wasn't their fault, or that they were OK really.

The series bravely took on this mindset, while also tackling attitudes surrounding abortion, dementia, battery farming and more. Diane's battle with depression was particularly poignant, and was explored deftly in season 6, when she finally comes to terms with taking anti-depressants.

Beyond all of this, one of the main reasons for BoJack's success, and why it is so watchable, is because it is consistently, ridiculously funny.

From the silliest of animal gags (like Henry Winkler telling a ferret he'll let them get back to "their business") to a whole subplot dedicated to Princess Carolyn unwittingly dating three boys wearing a trenchcoat and calling themselves "Vincent Adultman", the humour is such a blend of highbrow and lowbrow, in the best possible way, and often gets so much more out-there and niche than you imagine it will.

As an example, the season 2 episode Let's Find Out sees Mr Peanutbutter, the show's comedic MVP played perfectly by Paul F Tompkins, hosting a game show, which has been produced by the back-from-having-faked-his-own-death real-life novelist JD Salinger.

The show, titled Hollywoo Stars and Celebrities: What Do They Know? Do They Know Things? Let's Find Out!, ends with a face-off between BoJack and Daniel Radcliffe (played by himself), where BoJack's pettiness leads him to purposefully deny a charity of $500,000 by misnaming Radcliffe as Elijah Wood.

It's kind of unbelieveable that this episode comes directly after Hank After Dark, an instalment in which Diane tries, and fails, to take down beloved former talk-show host, and alleged sexual predator, Hank Hippopopalous.

That the breakneck speed with which the show veers from comedy to tragedy doesn't feel jarring, and in fact becomes a huge part of its appeal, is down to some nuanced voice performances, some quirky animation to take the edge off, and, of course, the incredible work of Bob-Waksberg and his team of writers.

They always knew when to play something subtly, and when to get full-throated and hammer home what they were trying to say. They were willing to let things play out in their own time, across multiple episodes and seasons, and knew when to make a joke versus when they should play things straight.

Like all of the best series, it also succeeded in both leaving the audience wanting more, while also making them never want to see it return.

Sometimes when a series is rebooted or revived, it can be a welcome return to a universe, or reunion with characters, particularly when an ending has either been less than final or less than ideal. But BoJack Horseman stuck the landing so perfectly in its final season that it would be a crying shame to ever see its ending messed with.

A two-part masterpiece, the first half of the season saw BoJack finally achieve some sense of stability and peace, if not without prevailing uncertainties, before the second half reminded us that no bad deed should go unpunished.

His unravelling in those final episodes is both utterly well-earned but also painful to watch, truly delivering on the "Downer Ending" which was promised in the title of season 1's penultimate instalment.

Every loose plot thread you've forgotten about or never thought would amount to anything returns in gloriously destructive form, allowing the series to come full circle and revel in its past, but in a satisfying, cumulative way.

Some relationships are never repaired - such as his heartwarming bond with his newly discovered younger sister - but in a way which feels painfully truthful.

Fans were quick to herald the devastating and unsettling penultimate episode, which sees a dying BoJack attending a nightmare dinner party in his own mind alongside those he has lost, as a masterpiece, and rightly so. However, in some ways this acclamation has meant that the final instalment hasn't always gotten its due.

In truth, there are very few finer finales out there. Taking the form of four duologues with BoJack making peace with each of his friends, it's a perfect last note on which to end things.

In particular, the ending sequence with Diane, in which it is made clear this is the last time they will speak, lends the whole thing such finality, and the final lengthy shot, as they struggle to think of what to say to each other and instead look up to the stars, is so beautiful it has no doubt adorned many rooms in poster form.

In the end, what fans of the show will likely take away from it, beyond the laughs and the beloved, complicated characters, is its heart, and its messages.

Diane's philosophy that there is no "deep-down" resonates on such a fundamental level, while Todd's assertion that "you are all the things that are wrong with you" is both cutting and truthful, managing to see through a tidal wave of excuses.

Quotes like, "It gets easier. Every day, it gets a little easier. But you gotta do it every day. That's the hard part," and, "All that exists is what's ahead," may feel as though they should live on a decorative board alongside a "Live, Laugh, Love" mug, but within the context of the scenes in which they are placed they are meaningful gut-punches, getting to the heart of themes the show has been exploring throughout.

There are many reasons why, 10 years on, BoJack Horseman is the best animated series of all time. The Simpsons may have had a more lasting impact and a broader appeal, and is a phenomenal show in its own right, but there's no series which is quite as funny as BoJack, while also being quite as devastating or poignant.

The voice acting is superb, the characters are richly developed, and visually it's spectacular. We have never seen a series quite like it before, and in truth it seems very unlikely we ever will again.

No matter - a 10-year anniversary seems like the perfect time for a rewatch, and to remember the inspiring, motivational words of Mr Peanutbutter: "The universe is a cruel, uncaring void. The key to being happy isn't the search for meaning; it's just to keep yourself busy with unimportant nonsense, and eventually, you'll be dead."

BoJack Horseman is available to stream in full on Netflix. Sign up for Netflix from £4.99 a month. Netflix is also available on Sky Glass and Virgin Media Stream.

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