For the first year and half of its existence, Bojack Horseman lingered around my Netflix like that homeless person you pass on the way home from work every day. It remained ignored because of Bojack’s generally ignorable appearance with his pot belly, drink in hand, and long face of chronic regret, (ha, horse jokes.)

Watching Bojack is an uncomfortable experience. Even after watching the first two or so episodes, the feeling didn’t change. Something about him just put off a vibe of slight apathy, which to me signaled the show would be awful. But it was just the opposite: that very quality about Bojack Horseman makes the show so special and so outrageously underrated.

Bojack Horseman is a middle aged, alcoholic TV star has-been from a 90’s sitcom called Horsin’ Around. While he started off bright eyed and eager, the fame turned him bitter causing him to lose the few people he cared about. This isn’t all that new to television: Characters with a disposition for ruining things has grown to be a cliché in the past years, with examples such as Peter Griffin, Frank Gallagher from Shameless, and House. But Bojack is different. He knows that his actions are wrong, and he feels true remorse for doing the things he does (sometimes), but he just can’t help himself.

There are several moments in the TV show where Bojack is self aware in the best of ways: one method after another, he hides from his self-destructive ways. But no matter how far he runs – whether it be up the hill outside of his apartment, or all the way to New Mexico – his habits catch up with him. His weariness increases as the seasons go by, but as his misery grows, his friends dwindle. With so few characters left, it’ll be interesting to see how season four goes.

Speaking of the other characters: dang. DANG. Every inch of this show is covered in mental illness and inner turmoil. Even the most functional of people, or dogs or cats or mice, have their fair share of crises. Mr. Peanutbutter, the happy-go-lucky labradore, has been blessed with a successful career (that has plunged him into many a financial downfall), a wonderful family (that was struck with disease), and a (sometimes) loving marriage with Bojack’s biographer/social media manager/close friend Diane (whom disappeared for months to figure herself out). And this is the happiest character by far.

While the topic of who’s happiest could be debated, it’s only because there aren’t many people in the show who are truly happy. Each character has had their moments of potential success, but ultimately

their own fears drag them back down. Bojack Horseman likes to remind people that no matter how many times you change your life, change your career, change your everything: some people will always feel their life is incomplete.

The finale of season ended on a bold note with quite a few twists. To avoid giving any more spoilers, I won’t say what they were, but I will say that after hearing them I’m ready to start the whole series over again to find out HOW I DIDN’T SEE THIS COMING. (It’s not like it’s that big of a deal, but it will bother me forever.) In conclusion, Bojack Horseman is definitely worth your time, but if sad-boy cartoons with amazing references aren’t your thing then fine. I will still be eagerly waiting for the release of the new season next year so I can blow through it within three days like every other Netflix original.