BoJack begins this season in an isolated place, but what’s important is whether his friends are there for him when he hits the bottom and needs them the most. The first half of season six features major developments for every single character and these final episodes continue to show how they’re easing into their new lives, as well as rocking the boat in some big ways. A major source of tension this season comes from BoJack’s frayed relationship with his sister, Hollyhock. BoJack’s universe gets a lot smaller at Wesleyan and so the people who are in his proximity gain a lot more significance.

There’s a fresh dynamic as BoJack and Hollyhock try to occupy the same space together, but much of the fun is erased from their relationship as Hollyhock struggles to accept him. This pained brother-sister relationship becomes a serious focus for the final leg of BoJack’s journey. Both BoJack’s friends, and the audience, will have very complicated feelings over who BoJack Horseman is, but that final stage of analysis is what this last season is all about. BoJack comes to terms with the idea that his entire legacy and all of the good that he’s done could be completely erased.

In many ways this show has been just as much about Diane’s troubled journey to find happiness, as it has been Bojack’s. One of the densest and most visually complex episodes of the season delves into Diane’s chaotic writing process and provides an illuminating look at her through a stream of consciousness structure. It’s one of the most authentic looks at depression and doubt that I’ve seen on television. The first half of BoJack season 6 didn’t really feature any ambitious structural anomalies, but these new episodes that aren’t afraid to push the limits of animation and storytelling with the little time that they have left. There’s even an existential journey on the subject of death and sacrifice that feels like a fusion between Samuel Beckett, Luigi Pirandello, and Bob Fosse in its surreal execution. The season also plays around with a very fluid chronological structure that frequently overlaps and creates a layered, ornate story.

Intense character studies and gutting melodrama are rampant within BoJack Horseman, but the series is still as frustratingly funny as it’s always been. There is so much to marvel at here, whether it’s through the brilliant social commentary, the way in which seemingly disparate storylines dovetail together, or the verbal gymnastics of the show’s Frasier-caliber wordplay. I was frequently rewinding scenes just to properly appreciate the wealth of comedy on display. As introspective and morose as these final episodes are, they’re still rich in humor and find a comfortable balance between the show’s tonal extremes.