 Day five, the animated series tear along the dotted line and specifically its British dub suggested by Stiglitz and seconded by probably the same 17 people who wanted me to see all about Lily Shushu. Why don't you people want me to be happy? Bojack Horseman released its final set of episodes the day after the Good Place had its series finale, which is to say, on the same day that finale hit Hulu. January 31st, 2020. I'm not sure I've ever cried as much in front of my television as I did on that day. I wanted to talk about them on the channel. I mean, I've reviewed their penultimate seasons, but though I started a few different versions of each, including one where I talked about both, it never went anywhere. And that's fine. The world isn't worse for me not figuring out what to say about them just as it isn't better for me having figured out what to say about anything else. None of us are really that important. It's one of the key messages of Tear Along the Dotted Line, a show that will inevitably draw comparisons to Bojack Horseman because it's an animated series on Netflix for adults that deals with existential crises and depression, anxiety, etc, etc, and also features talking animals alongside regular humans. But this is no cheap knockoff. In fact, these stories and this style predate Bojack by three years. While the show premiered in 2021, the stories depicted were contained in cartoonist Cerro Calcare's first graphic novel a decade before. La Profezia dell Armadillo, or the Armadillo's Prophecy refers to a recurring character in Calcare's work, a physical manifestation of his conscience who shows up at inopportune times to tell him how he really feels about what's going on. And so these animals aren't literally animals, but metaphors. His overbearing mother is a hen, the squeaking little girls he tutored, or mice, etc. His stories exist in the real world, but we are getting them filtered through both time and artistic license. And it takes full advantage of the opportunities afforded by animation. Styles can shift and characters can distort at a moment's notice without it ever feeling strange. Sequences call back to a wide number of popular films and shows in what could be considered your usual cutaway gags, but I think they're a step above because they give you insight into the storyteller's influences in a very literal way. And I need to emphasize storytelling, because Tarrell on the dotted lines is unlike any television program I've ever seen in the way its narrator guides the story. And like, I don't know if it's actually that unique within the medium, or maybe I just don't watch that much interesting TV, but it reminds me a lot more like something I'd see on stage. Several vignettes from life that he will comment over and then periods where he comes on screen to give additional details. And in fact, the original Italian recording has Cerro Calcare playing every single character except for the armadillo, at least for the first five of the six episodes. This heightens the feeling that we're watching a performance piece in a way that the British dub, which features multiple voice actors playing other parts, doesn't. And while it presumably makes the tonal shift of episode six hit even harder, I don't think it's worth it for someone who isn't fluent in Italian. He speaks too quickly in a way that is actively distracting and forces you to look away from those sumptuous visuals. This is a show that doesn't benefit from being part of this month of hot takes. It is something that you should give time to and sit with between episodes. There's a lot on its mind and binging really is not the best way to experience that. Had I had more time, I would probably speak at length about episode six where the seeds that he sows over previous episodes sprout all at once in a way that is deeply affecting and painful. But I've got a word limit to stick to, so I'm going to stick to the bigger picture. Whether the show works for you will ultimately depend on how much you can relate to Cerro, his bad choices, and the frequently frustrating back and forth he has with his armadillo. He hew's as closely as he can to the dotted line that he imagines fate is pulling him along. Never trying to rock the boat or meaningfully change because what if it doesn't work out? He'd rather have nothing than pain. And while his couple of friends will call out his generally shitty behavior, to what end? The idea that maybe he started to understand that he's not really the center of the universe is hard to swallow when he's turned this story into a fucking Netflix series. But who am I to talk? When a friend told me she was getting married back in 2016, I don't remember exactly what I said, but I sure do remember her response. How did you make me getting married about you? It's 100% the sort of moment that you would see in the show. And so maybe my frustration with Cerro is really frustration with myself. Maybe I saw too much of me in this show, and that's not what I want looking back in the mirror. 7.9 out of 10. Thank you so much for watching. Thank you particularly to my patrons, my mom, Hammerine Marco, Kat Saracota, Benjamin Schiff, Anthony Cole, Magnolia Denton, Elliott Fowler, Greg Lucina, Kojo, Phil Bates, Willow, I am the sword, Riley Zimmerman, Claire Bear, Taylor Lindyce, and the folks who'd rather be read than said. If you liked this video, that's great. If you want to see more, suggest what I should watch or review in like three days. Awesome. See you then. Bye.