Diane tries to mine the gold in her flaws as BoJack Horseman gets in her head
TV Reviews BoJack Horseman
In a show full of complicated characters, Diane Nguyen is the prime candidate for BoJack Horseman’s most complicated. Even going past the whitewashing aspect of her casting—something BoJack Horseman has grappled with since the beginning and faced head-on back in season five—few characters seem to divide the viewership the way she does. It’s as easy to find an article making a case for Diane as it is on making a case against her, a YouTube video arguing she’s the soul of the show versus a legion of Reddit comments arguing she’s the worst part of the series.
Those complications, I would argue, also add up to make her the most important character on BoJack Horseman after BoJack himself. More than anyone else on the series, Diane has had to struggle deeply to figure out who she is. It’s a struggle that was baked into her character from the beginning: introduced as the ostensible straight woman and potential love interest for BoJack, that conception was quickly abandoned as her moral compass and emotional scars became more apparent and more relevant to the story. And unlike other characters who can hide behind their quirks—BoJack’s ability to verbally cut down anyone, Princess Carolyn’s tongue-twisting studio gamesmanship, Mr. Peanutbutter’s cheerful pop culture analogies, Todd’s gift for falling into wacky schemes—Diane lacks a basic defense mechanism for the controversies she so often winds up on the front lines of.
All of this adds up to making Diane’s journey as important to the outcome of BoJack Horseman as that of BoJack himself. Diane’s gone through a lot over the course of six seasons, and there’s a reasonable feeling that it should all be for something and not just a series of shitty things that happened because that’s how life is. “Good Damage” tackles that assumption head-on, a showcase for all of Diane’s hopes and doubts with a solution that makes the perfect amount of sense. And it also shoots some of the experimental energy back into the final season, after a first half that was lighter on it.
That first half of the season wound up teasing plenty of change for Diane, as her last scene in “The Face Of Depression” showed us a brand-new character design. She’s gained weight from her antidepressants (and I would guess also her regularly featured “Chicago-style” diet), but the show doesn’t make a point of it once beyond an aside on how her boobs are heavier: this is just how Diane looks now. And the side effects also show the primary effects are working, because the dark clouds have finally lifted from her latest nadir in the first half of the season. A delightful Mary Tyler Moore Show-style opening sequence gets the point across, getting her “happy shoes” on and finding a variety of animal-based ways to get around annoyances that would previously grind her to a self-righteous halt. Ironically, despite the freezing cold temperatures and a diet of coronary-inducing sandwiches, Diane’s in the healthiest place she’s been for some time. Perfect place to write a book of personal essays, right?
Except the writing isn’t taking place. Structurally, “Good Damage” is the companion piece to season four’s brilliant “Stupid Piece Of Sh*t,” where we saw the cruel manic scribbles and endless insults that play out inside BoJack’s head on a daily basis. Here, we get to see Diane’s head as she wars against the insidious enemy that is the blank page, trying to find a way to tell her story in a deep and meaningful way. It’s a minimalist design that owes much to Don Hertzfeldt and his legendary short film “Rejected,” the various ghosts and goblins of Diane’s past reduced to pen sketches whose place in her life she’s trying to explain. And in the absence of fitting into a neat box, they fill the space with random asides about her frustrations, inadequacies, and for some reason the Japanese art of kintsugi.
The change in animation is great to watch, but what makes it work so well is the spine of Diane’s writer’s block and self-doubt conjuring up all these demons. “Good Damage” is credited to Joanna Calo, who wrote last season’s “The Dog Days Are Over” and has arguably the firmest grasp on Diane’s internal monologue. Paired with Alison Brie’s always terrific work voicing the character, it continues BoJack Horseman’s tradition of being unflinching in showing Diane’s downward spirals, and its awareness that there’s no easy fix to them. It’s reminiscent of “The Shot” and the gut-punch of her internal monologue cutting off mid-sentence, her fear that she’s incapable of telling a story that matters. Everything that we’re seeing Diane grapple with this episode rings true to what we know about the character, her internalized sense of how big her problems are wilting in comparison with her awareness of how many bigger problems are out there.
By that logic, the decision to go off her meds is one that’s tragic but also entirely expected, that she’d latch onto an excuse for not being able to write and hang the consequences. The tone of the animations changes considerably, her directionless thoughts now being replaced with much sharper edges and more ruthless put-downs. If BoJack Horseman ever wanted to release an ad for antidepressants, comparing the on versus off animations would be the right place to start, especially as we see avatars of our main characters stepping in to tear her apart. (Mr. Peanutbutter’s cuts the deepest, as well as letting out so ex-husband frustrations: “Are you one of those stupid pop culture analogies I’m always doing? Because you’re charming at first, but eventually enough already!”)
Salvation, when it comes, comes from an interesting place: a random writing tangent that came out of her attempts to write at the mall. She took overhearing one annoying shop girl and assimilated it into a random writing tangent about a food court detective, suddenly casting her internal monologue in a Dora The Explorer color palette. In an effort to buy Diane some time with Princess Carolyn, Guy sent the pages to her, and—surprise, surprise—she loves them and is already spinning a new YA franchise. While not as villainous as Diane’s internal monologue would portray, “Good Damage” doesn’t cast Princess Carolyn in the best light, going off on an unconnected sales pitch on at least one call with Diane, and pivoting with almost no hesitation between the pitch “sad is the new fun” and being glad the final book isn’t about her “boring life.”
Princess Carolyn does redeem herself with Diane in the closing moments of the episode, dovetailing with the third act of the previous “Intermediate Scene Study w/BoJack Horseman.” Princess Carolyn admits that her affection for the book isn’t just mercenary, it’s that she could see Ruthie enjoying a story like that—and more importantly she could see that Diane was enjoying writing a story like that. And Diane’s response is to let her internal monologue become external, finally getting to the root cause of her writers’ block: that she needs this book to mean something because it would make all her unhappiness mean something. It’s a beautiful interaction, a reminder that while they’re not best friends they do understand each other on a level most won’t get.
And it takes Princess Carolyn’s suggestion that maybe she doesn’t have to tell her story to tell an inspiring story to finally crack Diane’s hesitations. Seeing her face in that moment, I flashed back to the look on her face at the end of “BoJack Kills,” after Cuddlywhiskers offered the zen perspective that giving up everything was the secret to how to be happy. BoJack was blinded by his Oscar campaign, but that advice seemed to take root in Diane, even if she didn’t have the courage at the time to follow it. Diane’s cast off so much of her old life at this point: her marriage, her Hollywoo residency, even her old character design. Why not cut bait on a book that makes you spend time with bad memories, whose title you couldn’t get to under 30 words, and that you really don’t want to do anyway?
Diane’s journey is so potent that it’s almost possible to forget that “Good Damage” has something equally potent going on, which does give the episode a weak point. Even at the second episode of the final batch of episodes, it’s profoundly clear that BoJack Horseman is running out of time to tell its story, and consequently Diane’s journey needs to share space with the Hollywoo Reporter in New Mexico getting closer and closer to BoJack’s hidden truths. It manages to make it work thanks to the passage of time—deploying Diane’s journey and their research at exactly the same time as BoJack’s first semester at Wesleyan—but there’s a lack of consistency given Diane and the reporters never once cross paths.
Despite those rough edges, the events in Tesque manage to work for two key reasons. First of all, there’s the clear fun that everyone continues to have with the framing device of an old-fashioned screwball comedy framing, Paige and Max going full His Girl Friday as they try to chase down their leads. Calo clearly relishes writing dialogue that’s less conversation than competition, and Paget Brewster and Max Greenfield have an easy rapport as they lean into their transatlantic tones. An early exemplar: “You’re starting to make more sense than a change machine.” “Speaking of cents, what happened to Penny?” “Oh poop! Our scoop’s flown the coop!” “Go go go! Stay in the loop!”
The other reason that it works is because the zaniness is a counterbalance to just how deep BoJack Horseman is reaching into its emotional wells. BoJack’s actions with Penny and Sarah Lynn are the worst things he’s ever done, things he’s spent years trying to dull the memories of and things that no viewer of the show should be able to excuse. And the weight of that history is carried devastatingly by Olivia Wilde and Ilana Glazer as they return to their “Escape From L.A.” roles. Glazer’s Penny in particular now has an uncomfortable waver to her voice, dismissing the idea that her scene in “That’s Too Much, Man!” indicated she’d moved on from her experience. (In hindsight, the Red Bull she was drinking at Oberlin and Peter’s comments from “A Quick One, While He’s Away” mean a lot more than they did at the time.) Interestingly, they’re between Diane on their emotional journey: Penny’s still convinced that saying something will make it all mean something, Charlotte’s coming from a place of experience where she knows it often means nothing.
And once again, Charlotte puts the burden of responsibility exactly where it belongs, forcing BoJack to deal with these reporters. It’s no less devastating to witness than it was one episode ago—and maybe even more so because we know Diane’s conversation with Princess Carolyn is taking place not a hundred feet away. BoJack’s almost out of choices at this point, right at the moment Diane’s being given what should be an incredibly clear one. We’ll have to see if either can figure it out.
Stray observations:
- Achievement in Voice Acting: Maya Erskine of Pen15 gives a wonderful energy to Ivy Tran as her plucky attitude turns out to be the one thing to start getting through Diane’s writers’ block. And getting to face her creator manages to smooth out her angst, giving her a window to spend time away from a world where no change or happiness seems to come easily. “Yeah, I know. But wouldn’t it be nice if it was?”
- Diane’s coffee cup at the mall reads BLARN, because nobody does a recurring gag like BoJack Horseman.
- Big news: Birthday Dad is a hit! Or at least a hit by network TV standards, premiering to a 0.006. Those are numbers not seen since the Shark Tank episode where the inventor of blood-scented perfume got her arm bitten off.
- While pitching a film adaptation of Diane’s book, Princess Carolyn and Judah also hit on the idea of a Robin Hood film from Maid Marian’s perspective, directed by Sofia Coppola. Unfortunately, Rebecca Ferguson is booked because she’s doing a limited series about the ticket-taker at the cinema where Batman’s parents got shot. I’d watch both of those.
- I would also watch an entire series about colonial Bostonians acting like modern-day Bostonian stereotypes. “Taxation without representation is wicked unjust, brah!” “Bro, check it out, I’m teabagging the harbor!” “Also, go Pats! Unrelated.”
- “Great! I’ve made my romantic offer. I’ve officially been a good boyfriend. I will now retreat to our living room to play video games all day.” Guy is my spirit buffalo.
- “Hey, Chicago, 49 degrees is not spring! It’s the non-Lachey half of a boy band.”
- “I’ll tell you what I always tell my good friend Eileen. Eileen, come on.”
- “Two refrigerators? Give my regards to the Rockerfellers!”
- “I made a ‘My girlfriend is a depressed, vomiting mess, and someone needs to make a decision’ decision.”
- “Birthday Dad just got trapped in a leap year! How’s he gonna wriggle out of this one?”
- “I like thinking that my daughter could grow up in a world with books like that. Or, if my daughter’s not a reader, a lucrative film adaptation.”
- Today in Chicago signs:
51 Comments
SLOW DOWN! Most of us have jobs.
You have your priorities all wrong this weekend. Bojack first, work second. or third. XD
Other people have jobs, too. Specifically, jobs that require them to post reviews of TV shows.
First of all, there’s the clear fun that everyone continues to have with the framing device of an old-fashioned screwball comedy framing, Paige and Max going full His Girl Friday as they try to chase down their leads. So great, every time.
Am I the only one who thinks the actor is barely even trying to do an appropriate voice for Max? Outclassed by the actor for Paige again and again and again.
I think it is Max Greenfield (of New Girl fame) and Paget Brewster (of being amazing fame) and Brewster is going 1000% so, you’re not wrong.
Max is so clearly supposed to have been played by Paul F. Tompkins, so that he and Paget could reprise the Beyond Belief dynamic. That he isn’t makes me think there must have been an IP issue that prevented it.
I think that’s supposed to be the point. She’s the star, he’s the shlub.
To be fair to Max, I don’t think anyone can compete with Paget Brewster going full tilt like this.
I would legit listen to hours of those two just doing banter that means nothing and goes nowhere.
I feel like I need to rewatch the episodes with closed captioning on because I can’t make out half they say and i’m sure whatever it is they’re saying is pretty great
Hey you and the 11 people you starred in with! If you don’t already know about “Beyond Belief” from The Thrilling Adventure Hour, go binge it anywhere you can find it; that’s basically what that is.And if Paget Brewster is amazing at it, that’s because she’s been doing it for a minute. I first saw them doing similar characters as a vaudeville duo in the early days of The Thrilling Adventure Hour at M Bar in Hollywood. They were both sober and fit, but the gag was he was a drunk and she was fat, or something. It was finding its soul, which it found when they started Beyond Belief. They were always funny being transatlantic together, but they both got better and better since. Jeebus, that was at least 15 years ago!
I… Don’t love it.
It ain’t for everyone!
Maybe this would be too obvious and cliche, but with Diane gaining weight, vomiting, and having sore boobs, is that hinting at her being pregnant again? Or it’s just the meds. Or both.
It’s the meds, 100%. Trying to milk pregnancy drama would be too lazy for this show – Diane is at a point in her life where the only logical conclusion would be a matter-of-fact abortion.Anti-depressants often turn you into a mess. I gained 10 kilos in a month from sleeping pills and I once skipped a day of prozac because I was feeling brave like Diane and ended up with an immediate panic attack.
Heh, milk pregancy drama.
The show has always been surprisingly brutal with it’s depictions of mental health and trauma, but this is one of their most brutal. Diane underwent plenty of trauma. Maybe it was all real, maybe some of it wasn’t that bad. It doesn’t matter either way, because it was real to her and did damage. So she can either channel that damage directly into a book about her, or try to move past it and write something pointless that might bring some enjoyment to kids.
It’s consistently stunning to me an often hilarious animated show can simultaneously be so utterly painful and emotionally mature.
Saying goodbye to Diane is going to be the toughest part of the show ending, for me. I relate to her so much as a character, and she’s helped me find help in my own life. And I’ll miss her ringtones most of all…
I legit have never seen a show before Bojack deal with antidepressant weight gain and still say “even if they have side effects like that you stillneed to take your antidepressants if they make you more stable” and I’m so glad the show came at it from that angle both in the first half of the season and here. Then they throw the “Diane has writer’s block trying to write about her trauma to make it mean something” and “maybe I can write better if I go off meds so I can be in the dark place even though all that’ll do is make me sick and unbalanced emotionally” and all those combined made for a real “this is hitting very specifically close to home” episode for me.
yes. However, the idea that “antidepressants are very useful to show / remind one of what ‘not-depressed’ feels like, and to give us a space to work on ourselves without a biased basis of self-loathing, but shouldn’t be just the chemical plan for the unforseen future, a way to conveniently put off the self-work you need to do” was also tangentially addressed…. a bit.
Yeah, I broke down in therapy this morning talking about the “good damage” conversation between Diane and PC. I had no idea how much it resonated with it me.Also, while the depiction of antidepressants was WAY better than the usual portrayal, there was one thing I would’ve liked to see: there are other medications with different side effect profiles! Change it up and maybe you won’t feel foggy or gain weight!
She also came off antidepressants without getting the zaps. I’ve never heard of that happening, even though most psychiatrists seem to be all “the what now?”
Depends on the medication. My sense is that older medications tend not to have the zaps but usually have heavier cognition/weight/libido side effects, while drugs approved in the last decade tend to have better side effect profiles but definite zaps. I went on Pristiq in 2012, a few years after it came out, and my doctor totally didn’t believe me about the zaps. By now it’s a published and acknowledged thing, though. Dunno if all psychiatrists have caught up, but I think it’s much better recognized.
Mary Tyler Moore was before my time, but wasn’t that section more of a riff on old Mentos commercials?
That’s how I saw it too.
Absolutely. Diane giving the thumbs up with her meds was just like the Mentos thumbs ups in the commercials.
Agree it was mostly Mentos, but I think they were influenced by Mentos Tyler Moore.“It can be two things”
Also FTR this was from the same producers’ spinoff show, turning their own manic pixie idea upside down:
I think this was one of the strongest Diane episodes the show’s ever done, neck and neck with The Dog Days are Over. Firstly, they’ve stopped feeling the need to always pin Diane’s stories to a hot-topic issue, which was an impulse that gave us the absolutely fantastic Hank After Dark and Brrap Brrap Pew Pew but eventually started to feel like a disservice to the character. This is just an episode about Diane’s interior life and what it’s like to be in her head every day, brilliantly built around the framing device of writer’s block. The comparison to Stupid Piece of Shit in the review is very apt, but it’s interesting that Bojack’s interior monologue is constantly telling him *not* to do anything and that he’s too worthless for anything except sitting around and drinking all day, whereas Diane’s monologue is built around the effort to translate her trauma into something meaningful even if it’s at the expense of her being happy. (I really appreciated this episode’s insights on the martyr complex in our culture, how so many people have been conditioned to think “I need to be miserable to write/create anything good”, when that’s so obviously dangerous bullshit).
The best part about the Batman ticket taker line is that it was delivered by the second greatest animated Batman.
My weird take on this episode is that Diane thought her being depressed and angsty made her special and gave her life, however depressing as it was, meaning. The problem she’s having with the big is that she’s realizing that her life wasn’t really that traumatic, or at least nothing that special (notice the girl who teased her in High School saying she was bullied too). Diane’s problem is more because she’s realizing that all she is is depressed and hurt and that doesn’t make her special or different. Her inability is to write is because she doesn’t want to admit that to herself
She was also doing something that I am very, very, very guilty of which is cutting to the end in your mind before you’ve even started. She couldn’t write because she was obsessed with the outcome of it being a VERY VERY IMPORTANT BOOK THAT CHANGES THE CONVERSATION FOR WOMEN EVERYWHERE and so was measuring everything she wrote against the likelihood of that outcome. And it’s not just vanity or ego, though of course it is that too. Sometimes it feels like, in the words of Hamilton, you have to “write your way out.” The stakes feel high because if it’s a success then hey, OK! You’re a writer! But if it isn’t then you are still…?Ivy Tran meant nothing and so it flowed easily. Though I do wonder if PC putting “next huge franchise!” in her head will impede that progress as well.In conclusion, I relate very strongly to Diane. And if some people think she’s great and just as many think she’s the worst, well. I feel that too.
Yes – I write this having not watched the end yet – it’s easy to imagine PC would yank it away, saying nobody wants it, just to give Diane the fuel to write it Despite Obstacles.
Diane thought she had to do something to save the world in order in hopes that it would make her feel complete. When given the chance to do something that she thinks will do that, she freezes and can’t do it. The only thing she can write is something that she considers a mere trifle so of course she can crank it out. It’s also a book in which the main character is sort of her but the kind of person Diane deep down wants to be. One of the great things about the end of her character arc is how the reception to the book helps put herself in the place that she is at the end of the series
I hate, hate, HATE Paige, Max and the entire ‘20s reporter schtick. It’s as bad if not worse than the popsicle brothers from last season. At least their sound effects were amusing even if their dialogue was just as awful. Could have used the photogra-flies but no, you want to make me throw the remote at the TV. Again.That’s my only complaint. The Diane story interests me as it connects back to the accusation, thrown at and by multiple characters, of fetishizing one’s own sadness. We’ve seen Bojack do it and now Diane. The presumed connection between illness and creativity reminds me of Kanye’s declaration that his illness I’d not a disability but a superpower. Luckily Diane doesn’t fall off that ledge. I think the contrast between Bojack, who usually projects all his pain out into the world, and Diane, who often heaps all the misery on her own head, informs the dynamic of the show with each learning that neither path is a healthy way to live. To progress, to live, to be happy we need the support of others and can’t either suffer in isolation or drive everyone away and then somehow expect things to change for the better.Also Kyle is a goddamned idiot and by the second or third Birthday Dad comment my feelings for the character had shifted from neutral/sympathetic to strong dislike.
You’re fun.
I don’t HATE Paige, but this has been the most cringe-worthy part of the ending of this show. I think we all know we’re coming toward Bojack’s reckoning. And the fact that it’s being driven by a character that is so comedically broad – is grating. I would have loved to have the reporter be a Diane-like reporter – someone who is 100 percent in it to expose “the truth,” but even that is a cliche I know. A modest, driven reporter who is uber-idealistic is as cliched as a glory-seeking reporter (Paige would get along great with Sebastian St. Clair – two souls cut from the same cloth).
I wonder if their similarity to the popsicle guys could be a sign they’re a red herring and Bojack will get his comeuppance from a different angle. Like how the writers played up Flip stealing a joke from the popsicle guys but the big secret they ended up keeping was Bojack’s attack on Gina.
Yeah, I’m kinda exhausted by this bit. It, along with the Mr Peanutbutter and Pickles plot (and almost every Todd plot in past seasons), have already overstayed their welcome. It frankly feels like this show is being written either by people who loved the bathos aspect of depression on top of slapstick early in the show, or it’s the same people who’ve grown a bit too found of their own writing. Either way, I’m glad they’re ending it now. Much like latter seasons of The Office, the self indulgence of the show is growing less and less self aware.
I feel the same about those two reporters. Never seemed funny to me, just plain annoying.
I’m with you. Screwball comedy reporter bit is not particularly charming or clever. I could do without it.
I realize this episode may get too many comparisons to “Stupid Piece of Shit.” I don’t care. I loved it. As someone who has been on both Lexapro and Prozac (generic versions of both) – I’ve seen my weight go from 165 to 242. Now, I’m in a happy, albeit slightly chubby 215. Two things that got me about this episode. First, it does deal head on with one major side effect of antidepressants and anti-anxiety: weight gain. But the way this episode deals with it, it puts it in great context. Diane’s boyfriend isn’t phased by it. Diane acknowledges it, but she’s got other shit to worry about – mainly a looming deadline. In short, yes, it’s something to acknowledge, and it has drawbacks, but unlike so many shows, it doesn’t make it the central issue. Secondly – as someone who writes regularly (and sometimes gets paid), the episode does to “the fog” that many of us feel when we’re coping with depression what “Stupid Piece of Shit” did with self-loathing. The constant tangents Diane throws up. The unfinished thoughts. And the general “laziness” that is actually just depression sacking the ever living shit out of you. I can’t count the times that I had plans laid to waste when after work, I promised myself that I would just lay down for a “quick 15 minutes” to watch a few YouTube videos to find out that three hours have passed. I saw this plot coming pretty early – it’s not really a spoiler, but I love how Diane’s “one-off” exercises (just write – who cares if you’re writing a fan-fiction like one-off about a mall detective?) – and that one-off project ends up being the work that resonates with readers, no matter how much you want your own “Citizen Kane-style memoir” to resonate.
I’ve always been in the “pro-Diane” camp, even during her worst moments. And this episode only puts me further in the “pro” camp.
I thought the Boston Tea Brahs had a real Kate Beaton feel to them. I would watch that show.
I’m a little surprised it hasn’t happened yet.
I really appreciate the show taking a wrecking ball to the idea that trauma has to mean something, or has to be processed into something positive. Sometimes all it means is something shitty happened to you and you deserved better. There’s nothing wrong with writing about your demons and processing them that way, of course, but there’s also nothing wrong in just taking care of yourself now and finding peace with your past. And maybe also writing a novel about a spunky teen detective while you’re at it.
I have never been a fan of the animation of this show (Flash always looks cheap and too puppet-y, unless done stylistically like Homestar Runner, or those new Mickey Mosue shorts), but I love when go visually crazy like the scribble scenes here (or the multiple Princess C. thing from last year).
“Two refrigerators? Give my regards to the Rockerfellers!”As someone who lives in a two bedroom apartment with three refrigerators (one of which, yes, is a wine fridge), I laughed way too hard at this.
I guess Diane really IS the most divisive character on the show, as she’s even managed to divide the review against himself. He heaps praise on Alison Brie’s performance in some spots, while in other spots suggesting that Alison should never have gotten the role since she’s a white woman voicing an Asian character.
Great review, as always, of a fantastic episode. One note: I thought the kintsugi parts were actually really relevant. Diane is trying to convince herself the cracks in her life are things that make her better overall, a more beautiful person. That ends up being a lie, but she’s trying to do her own form on kintsugi.