When I first mentioned BoJack Horseman to my dad, he responded with ‘Oh, that talking horse show?’, a distinct disgust in his tone. And although since then I’ve got my sister on board, he still can’t be convinced of the absolute masterpiece that is BoJack Horseman.
There’s no denying the beauty and power that animation can have. From complex and perfectly portrayed themes to breathtaking visuals and unforgettable soundtracks, here are a few of my favourite animations that challenge the persistent misconception that animation exists only for children. But then again, maybe this is just a love letter to BoJack Horseman.
Bojack Horseman
BoJack Horseman may indeed be the root cause of my borderline depression during my first year. Oddly so, considering 90% of the characters are talking animals, something that could have never worked as effortlessly without animation. The anthropomorphism works incredibly well to create emotional distance. Essentially, animation is used as a buffer for the uncomfortable themes of addiction, depression, trauma, and fame to be explored without becoming unbearably heavy. It also conveys themes of loss and identity with such understated accuracy, never doing too much.
The show is a powerful example of the visualisation of internal psychological experience. Stupid Piece of Sh*t delves into BoJack’s self-hatred and intrusive thoughts through an overwhelming monologue and a chaotic, scribbled animation style. Similarly, The View from Halfway Down seamlessly translates BoJack’s subconscious into a surreal theatre of guilt, morality, and regret.
It is not uncommon for the episodes of BoJack Horseman to push the boundaries of film entirely. Free Churro is essentially a twenty-minute monologue at a funeral. Another episode, Fish Out of Water, has virtually no dialogue, relying almost entirely on visual storytelling alone. Meanwhile, Time’s Arrow discusses dementia with fragmented and surreal animations. All of this couldn’t have been done without animation. Animation allows the show to bend reality and visualise psychological states in ways that feel both absurd and painfully honest, exploring depression and identity in visually and emotionally immersive forms.
Spider-Man: Spider- Verse
Every Marvel fan has a soft spot for Sony’s Spider-Man: Spider-Verse. These films have incredible soundtracks with creative animation of clear intent. Sony is not short on talent, with films showcasing different animation languages suited to each universe. These different styles fit each newly introduced Spider-Man and do so much without saying anything. It powerfully reinforces character personalities and experiences. Thus, Sony treats animation style not only as an aesthetic choice but as a storytelling device.
Entergalactic
Aside from the obvious fact that Entergalactic is NOT a kids’ film, with intensely graphic scenes, neither my sister nor I were expecting, it also pushes the boundaries of what animation can be. It crafts metaphoric alternate dimensions, and like the Spider-Verse films, uses animation style to reflect personality. Although characters lack relative depth and the storyline is simple when compared with BoJack Horseman, the film makes up for this with its beautiful sets. And once again, animation style as personality works flawlessly. The film uses these varying languages of animation to spontaneously stem off into side stories with great legibility. Whilst this is fast moving, it quickly integrates you into the dynamic while remaining legible thanks to animation.
In hindsight, this is absolutely a love letter to the BoJack Horseman series, but regardless, animation can do endless things that live action struggles to. It pushes boundaries and portrays themes and ideas with such depth and detail that are otherwise difficult to execute.
Simply put, animation can achieve what live action can’t: emotional abstraction, visual metaphors, surrealism, impossible worlds and tone shifts. Demonstrated by the 97th Academy Awards’ Best Animated Feature lineup, with Memoir of a Snail, Inside Out 2 and The Wild Robot all nominated, it becomes difficult to ignore the sheer range housed within a single award category. These films differ not only in style, but also in tone, audience, and intent. To group them together under one award begins to feel reductive. It is long overdue that animation be recognised not as a genre, but as a medium. After all, how can we push boundaries in film if we continue to treat it as nothing more than a genre?
Words by Roxane Bosch
Featured image courtesy of Dex Ezekiel via Unsplash. No changes have been made to this image. Image licence found here.
