BoJack Horseman is an adult animation Netflix original series that self-consciously embeds messages about the entertainment industry, pop culture, and its very own reception in its content. Its final few episodes were released in January and they lived up to the incredible legacy its creators have established over the past few years. However, BoJack Horseman’s beauty lies not only in the exceptional delivery of its episodes, but also in the effort that goes into creating a highly symbolic, meaningful title sequence and trailer, tailored to every season.

Over its six seasons, while general components of the title sequence such as its opening credits score and sequence of frames remain the same, it undergoes nuanced changes in details tailored to the significant themes of the respective season.

Will Arnett and Alison Brie in ‘Bojack Horseman.’ [Photo provided by IMDb]
Opening with an upbeat track composed by Patrick Carney, an establishing shot and zoom-in of the titular character’s lavish Hollywood residence leads to a close-up of him in bed. Over the following few seconds, the centrally placed, almost stationary BoJack is juxtaposed with the dynamic backdrops that morph into numerous settings of the show. The last few frames finally release BoJack from his statuesque position and reverse the frame to depict his perspective, only to find him submerged in his swimming pool with the significant characters Diane Nguyen and Mr. Peanutbutter anxiously looking for him from above the surface. 

Between the above-mentioned first and last few seconds of the credits, the in-between sequences alter according to the settings prominent for the respective seasons, ranging from award shows, film sets, locations from BoJack’s past, and even a kaleidoscopic mix of several significant characters, often foreshadowing elements prevalent in the upcoming episodes. In considering the weight of these messages, BoJack Horseman’s title sequence carries much of its load in terms of establishing contexts to create expectations and interpretations for the text.

However, it is perhaps imperative to mention the significance of its closing credits sequences–both in its exhibition as well as its meaningful interaction with audiences. With a few exceptions, nearly every episode ends with the credits rolling in alongside Grouplove’s “Back in the ‘90s,” a song specifically written for the show that fills audiences with delight and apprehension alike, acting as the ominous transition from a closing scene that typically ends on an existentially dreadful note. Its lyrics convey thematic information: “I guess I’ll just try / and make you understand / that I’m more horse than a man / or I’m more man than a horse.” This is perhaps an attempt to break the fourth wall and to engage with the audience in regards to the purpose of the show.

Bojack Horseman. [Photo provided by IMDb]
While the show rarely features any human characters, with a few exceptions, it contains an absolutely human quality to its depiction of issues like substance abuse, mental illness, and relationships, and therein lies the question for the viewers–more horse than a man or more man than a horse? 

This discounts the notion of the perception of audiences as passive consumers of content. In doing this, creators of BoJack Horseman recognize the power of the audience’s willingness to engage with its material beyond the typical 25-minute duration of each episode. 

In very similar ways to its titles, BoJack Horseman’s season six final trailer uses prior knowledge within the show’s plot to create anticipation within the audience. BoJack is seen writing “Professor Horseman” on a whiteboard, which is an allusion to the fresh start he aspires to seek, and also to a desire to “write” his own destiny.

However, the trailer also symbolically foreshadows the complications this might create–by accidentally using a permanent marker, BoJack is unable to erase his writing from the board–much as he will not be able to undo the misgivings of his past with damage of a permanent nature. By highlighting key scenes that are revelatory, the trailer urges the audiences to extrapolate and to engage with the content consciously, because these interpretations also require keen observation of the series’ preceding episodes.

BoJack Horseman is a self-aware, intuitive, and funny show that, in my opinion, deserved to be renewed for several more seasons. Unfortunately, as the cliché goes, all good things must come to an end. Now that I’ve made my case for the show by only speaking to you about the beginning and the end, the trailer and the title sequences, I hope you’ll be tempted to relish in everything in between too.


Feature image provided by IMDb.