Episode 608: A Quick One, While He’s Away (Patreon)

At the start of this season I said that the most courageous and terrifying thing that BoJack Horseman could do was offer us hope. At the end of the last episode, we were on the edge of that hope. BoJack really seemed to have a moment of a genuine peace and catharsis. And it wasn’t from a change all at once, as if he magically figured out the way to stop his toxic behavior. But something that was part of a long journey of growth that began in the second episode of the show (the moment where he first talked to Diane about his family). But like all people, that growth has been uneven. Actually, that’s far too kind a word for it. The simple truth is that that BoJack’s growth has been mixed in with a stunning amount of damage caused to others. We are talking deep trauma and lasting consequences from his selfishness beyond measure. And if there’s anything we know from time’s arrow…

It’s that that kind of pain can cast long shadows.

This episode also reminded me of a common rhetorical question, “what if the world knew everything you had ever done?” No, not just the sunny disposition that many of us try to put into the world. Not just us at our best and kindest moments. Not even the embarrassing moments that make for got story fare. What about the worst parts? What about every time we hurt someone or hid or lied or convinced ourselves that we did nothing wrong? What if the history of us was out there, for all the world? If were to estimate, I think we’d see a lot ugly patterns. I think we’d see a clear difference between those often victimizing and those people who are victimized. I think we’d see a lot of that difference as being gendered, or divided along other social lines that make life so hard for some and so much easier for others. I think we’d see cycles and histories and denials. And for those like BoJack, those who have wronged so many in such toxic ways, I think the notion of being seen like that would be so daunting… Which is exactly why it must happen.

But it typical BoJack fashion, the instigation for these reveals is deeply comical. It seems the Hollywoo Reporter has ace reporter Paige Sinclair getting a sniff of one last scoop before her marriage, so off she goes with co-reporter Maximillian Banks. I must say, I nearly lost my shit at the idea they were doing a His Girl Friday episode. It’s not just one of my favorite movies, his episode also features the talents of Paget Brewster, who genuinely might be the best working actor today (and color me surprised when I found out Banks was being played by Max Greenfield!). But despite their story “lead” being almost nothing of the sort, the two motor-mouthed newshounds set about on a quest that will bring them straight into the past of BoJack Horseman. To discover worst things he’s done and all the people that he left behind, who are the ghosts that haunt him in his wake.

To that, the episode’s title, “A Quick One, While He’s Away” is not just a description of this BoJack-less episode, but a reference to the 1966 song by The Who, a little rock opera about infidelity, engine drivers, and ultimately, forgiveness. The song also takes place over six movements. Perhaps not so coincidentally, the episode takes us through the six greatest ghosts of BoJack’s life…

1. The Method (Wo)Man

The ongoing saga of “Character Actress Margo Martindale" reflects the show at its most patently absurd. It all started with BoJack roping her into a couple con jobs to convince Todd of X and Y, but she took them right into a torrid life of crime. Throughout the show, we’ve slowly been checking in on her. But now she’s trying to find peace in a convent. But here we’re not just comically touching in with her character, but making a direct commentary on all that is to follow with regards to the sins of the past. Margo ruminates on the pain she’s caused others, but the nun tells her that she is forgiven and must live a peaceful life now. Still she fixates, saying “the people I’ve hurt, lives I’ve ruined, are they washed clean as well?” The nun responds there no benefit to such solipsism. But Margo responds by getting at the inherent catch 22 that by sequestering oneself away from that is also its own form of solipsism. 

It’s a near perfect meditation of the impossible nature of guilt. But before she have a chance to chew on it, Margo decides to screw it and burns rubber right the fuck out of there and return to absurdist roots. Where is this particular ghost going? How will she return to wreak havoc on his life? Or how will she pull him into hers? For now, we cannot say.

2. The Sweet Summer Child

We began this season with the ghost of Sarah Lynn. I’ve written about it before, but her death is one of the things that haunts BoJack most precisely because he was the one who was supposed to take care of her. But our two intrepid reporters go down that rabbit hole, interviewing Sarah Lynn’s mom, who is clearly dealing with it a bit pathologically. Because she was a terrible parent, who abused both her daughter and her fame. But it seems that rather than face that reality, she’s been spending years trying to undue the guilt and prove it was all someone else’s fault. She even glorifies their relationship when she listens to Sarah Lynn’s voicemail to prove she was a sweet angel who was only thinking of her (even though her daughter was clearly furious with her). 

But she also does know that something was wrong about the whole situation. And the thing about her trying to cast blame in a wider net is that she’s going to find something that shares that blame with her. And so, the ghost of Sarah Lynn lingers, too…

3. The Professional

Kelsey Jannings is a brilliant director who struggles in this town because she is a “brilliant female director.” Of course, she’s actually suffering for the sins of her male star in BoJack, and currently in director’s jail; working on one of those dramatic short film disguised ads that seem to be all the rage right now (note: the spot-on verbiage of the ad folks’ editing notes meeting sent me into a small panic). The tragedy of her situation is only highlighted by the comic luck that her friend and white male, Justin Kenyon, has in getting every blockbuster on his way to the top. It’s not that Justin is evil and even means ill will. He’s just the easy-going, non-challenging, money-liking type that has a lot come to him in this world. He even has enough sense to be outraged (“eventually”) by the lack of fairness shown to Kelsey, but he’s not going to go much further than be a sympathetic ear.

But things could look up for Kelsey. She has a chance to pitch on a big Marvel / DC type movie that will 1) help pay her kids college tuition and 2) get her out of director jail. Naturally, the process is cynical and humiliating as she tries to pitch on a female-led superhero film. To be clear, I obviously enjoy a bunch of comic book movies, but I also sort of resent the idea that talking about them critically is being met with such fervor right now. The criticisms within this episode are perfectly aimed when you look at how SLOW those studios have been to adapt female and POC led efforts (cue: “no, the twist is that it’s a woman”). But it’s about far more than simply criticizing the decisions of a couple production companies, it’s about the systemic reality that created those conditions.

Kelsey puts it plainly: It’s all about how the system takes her goodness for granted, or alternatively resents her and tries to take power her away. And that is largely behind her change of heart in the elevator. She made a half-hearted, tell-em-what-they-want-to-hear pitch, but in the end, that can’t be who she is. So she walks in to retake her power and tell the truth. She says, “being a superhero is hard, otherwise everyone would do it.” And of course, she ends up striking a cord and getting the job. 

To the truth of that moment, this is a weirder town then people think, especially when it comes to pitches. Everyone thinks it’s about telling people what they want to hear. But often it’s about people looking for the spark of genuine passion. And when someone walks in, lays out exactly what they think and what they rather do, people can recognize the inherent “realness” of it. People are drawn to that sense of leadership, verve, and control. Yes, it’s sometimes true for even women and POC pitching, though obviously more loaded with all sorts of other dangers (For instance, Snyder said Gal Gadot got the Wonder Woman role because “she gave as good as she took with the boys” which blurgh, but it was Patty Jenkins who got a complete spectrum of both personality and femininity out of her). And double yes, these good intentions will likely get complicated and mitigated over time with the process. But is speaks to Kelsey’s experience that sometimes the way to connect and bust through walls is to tell the bigger truth.

And so a question lingers, what other truths does she have within her?

4. The First Name On The Call-Sheet

*heavy sigh*

I was wondering what was going to happen with Gina Cazador in the wake of last season. The depiction here is, of course, heartbreaking. The trauma of BoJack’s attack has left her understandably looking for danger out of every corner of her eye. Surprises and sudden changes on set completely startle her. She’s also deeply resenting a system that empowered him and she tries to take on that fear by asserting her own power, echoing notions of being first on the call sheet, etc. These are all the most human and valid ways to deal with what happened. They are also the very things that make you get branded as “difficult” or “selfish” on a film set.

To be clear, this is bullshit. But Hollywood, like most systems, aren’t really made to recognize the problems of trauma and account for how that effects a person’s life, let alone work habits. Justin Kenyon asks her if anything else is going on, as he can sense something is wrong, but Gina’s never been the best at that kind of vulnerability, so she can only try to feel more control. More over, they don’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to open up about trauma in a professional work situation. It’s all a part of the insidious problems of the system around her and what she feels she can and can’t talk about.

Then it all blows up with a sudden improvised change of choreography (that reminds Gina of the BoJack’s hands on her neck) and it all blows up. They fight, they argue, and her costar even delivers the brutal line, “what the fuck is wrong with you?” Gina can’t deal so she storms out. Like, all things, there are invisible consequences to these actions. Justin speaks with empathy and hesitation, but Gina doesn’t get recommended for Kesley’s big comic movie. Just more invisible consequences, from an invisible reality. One that’s part of the insidious, heartbreaking reality: they both fucked over by BoJack and yet it just ends up just hurting the both of them.

5. The Daughter of a Mother 

The name Penny Carson looms large. Not just from a tip in an “anonymous” AA meeting, but because of of it’s place in BoJack’s life. I’m not sure there’s any point in comparing the different levels of horribleness of BoJack’s actions. It’s all part of the same system. But it’s clear that Penny Carson so readily evokes the selfish monstrosity of him at his worst. It is the third rail of everything about his myopic pathology, his sense of displacing his feelings of hurt by hurting others, and then by mixing up love and hurt at once… It is his toxicity incarnate.

Penny doesn’t even appear in the episode, but knowing that the reporters are there in New Mexico, knowing how close they are to blowing up this whole story… it shows us the power of what can happen if the ghosts will intersect and shed light… which brings us to the final subject at hand…

6. The Dear One

It might seem strange to think of Hollyhocks as one of BoJack’s ghosts, but it’s true in a way. Or maybe she is really a ghost in waiting, which would be the hardest idea of all. Either way, the trauma of what has happened to her in BoJack’s care and the nature in which she has “inherited” speaks volumes here. She’s still suffering from anxiety. And here what she wants to do is so simple and youthful: go to a party, try alcohol, be a normal college kid. But she’s so afraid of being out of control and facing consequences, that she wants a safe space. But one that is pointedly ironic in that it’s “with people she doesn’t know.” 

It doesn’t go well. Hollyhock’s simple attempt to grab a drink comes with a full-blown anxiety attack (which directly mimics the attack BoJack had at the beginning of this season when he tried to take a drink, highlighting another inheritance). But luckily, a familiar face comes to her aid. Not to Hollyhocks, or maybe even the audience at first. But he seems to to know a lot about anxiety attacks from personal experience, so he helps her get through the process. The two of them strike a chord, share a couple beers on the fire escape, and talk openly with one another about drinking, light, and their demons.

Specifically, he begins talking about his traumatic night at Prom and we realize… It’s Peter Pocket, one of the teens who was there that night with Penny. To Peter, BoJack was just “some shitty dude,” and he commented on the horrible weirdness of the situation. But then he gets into the specifics, talking about how the guy was actually a famous movie actor… And suddenly the dread creeps in… we know what is going to happen. And we realize that among these six stories, the common thread is that they have remained separated, unconnected from the understanding that BoJack has been architect of their pain. But when ghosts intersect… the truth comes out.

Which just gets to a larger truth about our expectations. It would be so nice to imagine BoJack getting to go off somewhere teach at college and never does bad thing again. As humans, we want to believe in peacefully-ever-after. But it’s not that one does not have empathy for the idea, it’s just that the consequences of his actions must linger. From the character actresses he used, to the teens he abused, to all the jobs there are now for his costars to lose, we must acknowledge that the terminology has all been backwards. 

BoJack is the ghost that haunts them.

* * *

I asked another question at the start of this season, “Why BoJack?”

Why does it strike such a chord with me? I sometimes wonder how other people watch the show. Does it seem like a nightmare in comparison to one’s peaceful little life? Is it all just some hypothetical reality they’ve never known? Do other men watch this and see themselves? Or what they grew up? Or do they just see the behavior purely in others? Is it possible to just let this show wash over you and not care? I can’t imagine because I’ve never had a show so irrevocably caught up in my own self-examination. Like I said, it’s not that I’m not an angry person, but I’m a person who has gone through a crisis of corrupted selfhood. And this show came into my life when I began to examine everything from my psychology, to trauma, to consequence, to causing pain, to hiding, to ugly family history, to toxic relationships, and so much more I barely know how to sum up.

So “Why BoJack?”

Because for all of that, there’s no show that makes me want to be a more vulnerable person. No show that makes me want to be a more honest. No show that makes me want to heal. No show that makes me feel ALL my feelings, understanding that it’s all part of being a human being. There’s no show that acknowledges that there is nothing more important than the damage we do. No show that understands the consequences of avoidance, lying, hiding, and trying to be different things to different people. No show that so gets at the problem I’ve had with drinking, depression, anxiety, suicide, and the all-consuming amounts of guilt that we find in our own starry voids. No show that got me to draw the line of understanding from the toxicity of my home life, to the horrible behaviors were normalized from generations on down. No show that understands that unlike the song of the episode’s title, sometimes you aren’t forgiven.

And no show that understands why that’s so important.

When it comes to BoJack’s life and the consequences he must face, the truth is there was no way he was going to get to walk away from all of it. Life doesn’t work like that. We have to live with it. And then we have to change. But often that means we have to let the old version of ourself die, knowing that deaths are never easy. But I will say this, as well. The truth is BoJack has never been more ready to deal with the consequences of his life. This has been the rehab / sobriety season, after all. And that is about so much more than “not drinking.” It’s about seeing life itself soberly. It’s about seeing who you were, who you are, and who you could be. And that’s when you realize… this moment doesn’t have to be doom…

This could be the start.

OTHER NOTES

-“Don’t parent-shame him Hollyhocks!” / “Also, I’m not her boyfriend, we’re uncomplicated like that!” Again, it’s not making fun of the language of “___ -shaming,” it’s clearly making fun of the people who invert that language to keep their power and control.

-I just want to be sure we understand how good Maria Bamford is as Kelsey. She’s the woman of a million voices, but here she has this lovely, dramatic, internalized performance that understands of how to react off people and show the character’s interiority.

-I never get tired of The Hollywoo running gag. Never.

BEST JOKES

-Literally every single word out of Paget Brewster’s mouth, like her delivery on “They could fill a library with all the things you don’t know, in fact they do, they call them libraries!”

-“When you get to heaven, look up Margo Martindale. I won’t be there, but my movies will!”

-“Apparently there’s a bar near here called Hardigans that they call “Don’t cardigans” … I don’t get it.”

-“Can you wait until your out of earshot to make your exasperated sighs please?”

-“Do you think Justin Kenyon says “I don’t want them to hire me just because I’m a man? No, he says money money money, nom nom nom!” / “I have heard him say that!”

-“Also in my version she’s gay, okay bye!”

-“I’m kind of aspiring to be okayer over time, myself.”

-Best Tongue Twister: N/A?

-This Week’s Mean Joke Target: It’s not really a mean joke, but it does highlight the systematic irony that Paul Feig is probably the most prominent high-end director of “female led projects,” which just highlights the devastating truth of power structure.

-Best Bit Part Animal: There’s a great little detail in way the two sets of executives are both the same incredibly-similar looking animals, who also talk the same way. Within that, note the way the male executives do most of the talking and correct the female executive.

-Moment That Made Me the Most Emotional: The somber line delivery from Aparna Nancharla. It’s the second time Hollyhocks asks, “who was it?”… because deep down, she instinctively knows the answer. 

I’ve said it before with this show. And I’ll say it always…

Oof.

<3 HULK