Bojack Horseman Time's Arrow: Why That Ending Still Hurts

Bojack Horseman Time's Arrow: Why That Ending Still Hurts

It is hard to watch. Truly. Most of us go into adult animation looking for a laugh or maybe a clever satire on celebrity culture, but Bojack Horseman Time's Arrow isn’t interested in being funny. It wants to break your heart. This episode, the penultimate entry of season four, is widely considered one of the greatest half-hours of television ever produced. And for good reason. It doesn’t just show us dementia; it traps us inside it.

You’ve got Beatrice Horseman, a character we’ve spent years hating. She’s cruel. She’s cold. She’s the kind of mother who tells her son he’s the reason she’s miserable. But suddenly, the "camera" shifts. We aren't looking at her from the outside anymore. We are seeing the world through her decaying, static-filled mind.

What is Bojack Horseman Time's Arrow actually about?

On the surface, it's a road trip. Bojack is driving his mother to a crappy nursing home. He's furious because she basically poisoned his half-sister, Hollyhock, with weight-loss pills. He wants her gone. He wants her to rot in a place with no windows and terrible food.

But inside Beatrice’s head? It's a different story.

The episode uses a non-linear narrative to stitch together Beatrice’s life. We see her as a child, her father Joseph burning her favorite doll because of a scarlet fever scare. We see her as a rebellious debutante, falling for the "bad boy" Butterscotch Horseman. We see the slow, agonizing death of her spirit.

Honestly, the most impressive thing about the writing here is how it explains her without ever excusing her. You understand why she is a monster. You see the "sh*t rolls downhill" philosophy in action. Her mother was lobotomized; her father was a sexist tyrant. She didn't stand a chance.

The Visual Language of Dementia

One thing you'll notice immediately is the background. Or the lack of it.

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In Beatrice’s memories, everything that isn't essential is just... gone. Background characters don't have faces. They are just blank, fleshy canvases. It’s terrifying.

  • Blurred Faces: People she didn't care about are literally faceless.
  • The Scribble: Henrietta, the maid who had an affair with Butterscotch, has a chaotic black scribble over her face. Beatrice literally cannot or will not look at her.
  • Static and Glitches: Objects move. Time jumps. One second she's at a party, the next she's in a kitchen forty years later.

This isn't just a "creative choice." It’s an attempt to replicate the biological reality of a brain that is literally forgetting how to be a brain. According to interviews with the show’s creator, Raphael Bob-Waksberg, and writer Kate Purdy, they did extensive research on how dementia patients perceive the world. They wanted it to feel "primordial."

The Henrietta Reveal

For the whole season, Beatrice has been calling Bojack "Henrietta." We thought it was just her being senile.

Nope.

In Bojack Horseman Time's Arrow, we finally meet the real Henrietta. She was the maid. She got pregnant by Butterscotch. And in a moment that is somehow both the kindest and cruelest thing Beatrice ever did, she convinced Henrietta to give the baby up for adoption.

"Don't let this happen to you. Don't let him do this to you."

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Beatrice saw Henrietta's life ending the same way hers did—trapped by a man who didn't love her and a child she didn't want. She thought she was saving her. But in the process, she traumatized another woman and gave away the child who would grow up to be Hollyhock.

Why the Ending is So Polarizing

The final scene is a masterclass in emotional manipulation.

Bojack finally gets her to the nursing home. It's a dump. He’s ready to leave her there in the dark, but then, for a split second, the clouds part. Beatrice recognizes him. She’s scared. She asks where she is.

Bojack has a choice. He can tell her the truth—that she’s in a "sh*thole" and he hates her. Or he can lie.

He lies.

He tells her she’s at the Michigan lake house. He describes the stars, the smell of the lake, and the vanilla ice cream she was never allowed to have as a kid. It's the first and only time we see Bojack offer her genuine, selfless comfort.

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Some fans think this is Bojack finally breaking the cycle of abuse. Others think it’s a tragedy because it’s a kindness she never gave him when he was small and needed it. It’s messy. It’s complicated. It’s Bojack Horseman.

Key Takeaways for Your Next Rewatch

If you’re going back to watch this episode again, pay attention to the colors. The 1940s scenes are saturated and bright, almost like a dream. As Beatrice gets older, the palette turns gray, brown, and muted. It’s the visual representation of her hope dying.

  • The Doll: That doll she carries around in the present? It’s the one her father burned. She’s been trying to get it back for seventy years.
  • The Sugarman Legacy: Notice how Joseph Sugarman speaks. His "Time's Arrow" speech is meant to be inspiring, but it's actually just a way to dismiss the pain he causes.
  • Hollyhock's Origin: This episode confirms Hollyhock is Bojack’s half-sister, not his daughter. It changes the entire dynamic of their relationship.

How to Process This (Actionable Insights)

Watch the episode "The Old Sugarman Place" (S4E2) immediately before or after. They are two halves of the same story. One shows the destruction of the Sugarman family, and the other shows the aftermath.

Reflect on your own "learned behaviors." This episode is a haunting reminder that we are often just echoes of our parents' unaddressed trauma. Recognizing the cycle is the only way to stop it.

Read the original script if you can find it. There are subtle differences in the dialogue between Beatrice and Butterscotch that make their mutual loathing even clearer. It's a lesson in how much a show can say without actually saying it.

The arrow of time only marches forward. It’s a terrifying thought, but as this episode proves, what we do with the time we have—and how we treat the people traveling alongside us—is all that actually matters.