Raphael Bob-Waksberg's New Netflix Series: 'Long Story Short' – Is It BoJack with More Family Chaos (and Wolves)?
AI Gaming News Author · Polygon ·
Raphael Bob-Waksberg, the brilliant mind behind *BoJack Horseman*, is back with *Long Story Short*, a new Netflix animated series that delves into family grief, the relentless march of time, and the chaos of life with his signature dark humor and non-linear storytelling. It's a wild, introspective ride that promises laughs and tears, much like a particularly impactful narrative-driven game.
Right, so you know that feeling when a wizard you really rate – the kind who can weave narratives so intricate they make your brain ache in the best way – announces a new spell? You're buzzing with excitement, but also a little bit like, 'Can they *really* pull off another reality-bending masterpiece?' That's where I reckon many of us find ourselves with Raphael Bob-Waksberg, the mad genius behind *BoJack Horseman* and *Undone*.
His latest conjuring trick for Netflix, *Long Story Short*, has just dropped, and I’ve been tinkering with the details all morning. And bloody hell, it’s exactly as wild, introspective, and darkly hilarious as you might hope. If you’ve ever found yourself pondering the relentless march of time, the utter chaos of family, or the lingering shadows of grief while wondering if you accidentally stepped into an alternate dimension, then mate, Bob-Waksberg is probably already reading your mind.
Now, for anyone familiar with his work, it’ll come as no surprise that death and grief are front and centre. *Undone* had a protagonist seeing visions of her dead father, and who could forget BoJack’s epic, soul-crushing monologue about his deceased mother? Bob-Waksberg openly admits to Polygon that he writes about what scares him personally, using his shows as a cathartic way to explore those very human fears. Fair dinkum, it’s a brave move, turning your deepest anxieties into art, like a digital alchemist turning lead into existential gold.
*Long Story Short*, which premiered on August 22nd and has already bagged a second season (a good sign, that!), kicks off in 1996 with the Schwooper family driving home from a funeral. But here’s where Bob-Waksberg pulls out his wizard’s hat: the show isn't a straight narrative. Oh no. It’s a beautifully fractured tapestry, jumping back and forth through decades, alternating perspectives among a large cast of characters in a middle-class Jewish family from California. Think of it like a narrative branching tree, but instead of making choices, the game just *shows* you all the different outcomes and how they're intrinsically linked, years later. Small moments from the past gain utterly devastating significance when you revisit them in the future. It's a clever mechanic, really, almost like a prestige indie game exploring a deeply personal story.
Take Avi Schwooper, an aspiring music critic, explaining to his girlfriend why he loves Paul Simon's 'The Obvious Child' – the melancholy portrayal of time slipping away. Then, years later, you see him alone, listening to that very same song in his car. It’s a gut-punch, isn’t it? A masterful way to say, ‘Time marches on, mate, and it rarely sends a postcard.’ It’s like a well-executed jump-scare, but for your emotions.
And talk about tackling the big, messy stuff! Bob-Waksberg doesn’t shy away from the recent past, either. COVID-19 looms large in the 2021 and 2022 segments, not just as a backdrop, but as a deeply personal element for the Schwoopers, exploring everything from the politics of masking to the profound fear that we as a society are just... going to forget. He told Polygon, 'COVID is a thing that happened to us as a society, and I have this fear that we’re going to forget.' It's a poignant observation, like finding a forgotten journal entry from a particularly harrowing quest. It reminds us that real-world events have lasting debuffs on our characters.
One episode hilariously, and perhaps a little too accurately for some parents, skewers online learning during the pandemic, depicting it as so utterly pointless that Avi and Jen’s daughter Hannah would rather attend a school quite literally infested by wolves. Wolves! It's that signature blend of seriousness and irreverence that *BoJack Horseman* perfected – tackling addiction, gun violence, and abortion with a biting wit. It makes you wonder how a game could integrate such surreal elements to comment on reality, doesn't it?
Bob-Waksberg reckons there’s 'something for everybody' in *Long Story Short*, whether you're there to laugh or to cry. And honestly, I can see it. The Schwooper family fights are a masterclass in passive-aggressive barbs mixed with attempts at reconciliation. And then there's Yoshi, the youngest, who embodies that absurdist, quest-for-purpose vibe that Todd Chavez fans will instantly recognise. Yoshi gets embroiled in zany plots, like selling mattresses in tubes. Mattresses. In tubes. I'm not entirely sure what that means, but it sounds like a side quest I'd definitely pick up in an open-world RPG.
Interestingly, Bob-Waksberg admits that both Todd and Yoshi have elements of his own ADD, offering a cathartic outlet. It's a brilliant insight into how creators infuse their own experiences into character design, making them feel genuinely lived-in and relatable, even when they’re selling tubed mattresses.
The humor often gets incredibly specific, too, diving into Yiddish terms and Jewish customs. While I, personally, am not Jewish, Bob-Waksberg's philosophy from *BoJack* applies: 'Be specific and be honest, and through that specificity you find universality.' It’s a wizard’s trick for connecting with a global audience, proving that the more authentic and detailed your world-building, the more people can project themselves into it, regardless of their own background. Think of it like a game with incredibly deep lore; you don't need to understand every single reference to appreciate the richness of the world.
Cast members like Abbi Jacobson (who plays Shira) and Ben Feldman (Ari) both found deep personal connections to the dysfunctional Schwooper family, with Feldman humorously noting that matriarch Naomi Schwartz 'has nailed every legal guardian I’ve ever had.' It’s always a good sign when the actors themselves are finding parallels in the 'crazy cartoon stuff' to their own lives. It means the writing is hitting home.
Season one wraps up with another funeral (because of course it does) and plenty more Schwooper antics – Yoshi chasing a cat through a casino, Shira carrying an ear of corn as petty revenge. Classic family stuff, really. But amidst the chaos and the shared pain, there's always that flicker of hope for the future, for happier reunions. And with a second season already greenlit, Bob-Waksberg has plenty of opportunities to keep exploring where the Schwoopers have been, and where their delightfully messy journey will take them next. If you're after a new series that balances heart-wrenching drama with laugh-out-loud moments, and isn't afraid to make you think, then *Long Story Short* might just be your next Netflix addiction. Original source: Polygon.
Tags: Animated Series, Narrative Design, Character Development, Storytelling, Comedy-Drama
Original article: Polygon