Here's the Thing About Centaurworld and Its Finale

This is it. The review of the final two episode of Centaurworld. Presumably this won't be the end of the series, although no announcement has been made by Netflix regarding the status of a second season. Still, there is plenty to unpack in the two-part finale of this incredible show, and I am chomping at the bit to do just that. Before going any further, I'd like to take this time to point your attention to the first and second articles in this review series in case you haven't read either of those and want to know exactly what it is you're getting into. With all that said, let's finish this walk down the Rainbow Road together to dig into the end of the first season of Centaurworld. Beware of spoilers and excessive crying ahead.

All of the pieces of the Key have been found, and now it is time for Horse to step into the Rift and go back to her own world. It seems so simple, but nothing ever really is on Centaurworld. There is still the matter of waiting for Waterbaby to deliver the actual final piece of the Key, which means there is plenty of time for long goodbyes in the form of musical numbers. This also means that the series gets to dive into the subject of letting go, moving on, and trusting that the people we love can take care of themselves. The first time that I watched the ninth episode, "The Rift: Part 1," the intense focus on Wammawink's inability to let Horse go was one of my least favorite parts of the series as a whole. That her attempts to both hang on tight and say goodbye kept getting interrupted by other characters wasn't hitting any humorous notes for me. In fact, the return of Comfortable Doug was the only redeeming factor in more than the first half of the episode. Then I watched it again. And again. And by the third time I had watched the finale it finally clicked that this was just another example of the show getting uncomfortable on purpose. This was Centaurworld yet again making the audience confront their own issues whether they realized it or not. All of a sudden, Comfortable Doug and his final song "The Hero of My Story" made sense beyond them being a chance for Flula Borg to shine the way only he can. "None of us are comfortable until we are all comfortable." But getting comfortable means getting past all of the nagging thoughts and chronic stresses that eat at us beneath the surface. Getting comfortable means getting uncomfortable, and nothing does uncomfortable better than Centaurworld.

Once our heroes have finally gotten through their painful goodbyes, it's time for the even more painful reunions to begin. The lingering body horror and nods to dysmorphia nearly make what Horse initially finds inside the Rift more gut wrenching than anything else in the series. Beyond the blue portal is an endless white void, though not long before stepping into it Horse is greeted by a vicious minotaur running at her through a matching yellow portal. When the beast is felled from behind, Rider is finally revealed to have survived the encounter with the Horde in the first episode. Unfortunately, she doesn't recognize Horse any more than Horse recognizes herself. It isn't until Horse begins singing "Rider's Lullaby" that the two are truly reunited. If this had taken place earlier in the series, it's likely that the topics of acceptance and unconditional love would have been explored further, and maybe they still could have been in the first half of the finale. On the other hand, we were also promised a Nowhere King, so there's that.

Even though Horse and Rider do make it to the human world, the duo find an excuse to go back when Horse realizes she never popper her head back through the blue portal to let the Herd know that she made the journey safely. Almost as soon as they have made their way back into the void, however, the portal disappears as Mysterious Woman has taken the Key from its place on the other side. This proves to be the perfect place for the Nowhere King to finally be introduced and. He. Is. Fucking. Awesome. At least in presence and portrayal. Everything else about him, however, leaves much to be desired.

There isn't a whole lot special about the Nowhere King as he is first presented to the audience. He's a weird animal skull sporting massive antlers atop a vaguely monstrous body comprised of some sort of living darkness. The Nowhere King oozes. He smashes. He thrashes. He even gets a little ditty of his own. But there just isn't anything about the Nowhere King himself that makes him memorable. Even at his worst, when he has Horse, Rider, and the Herd in his clutches, the Nowhere King is just kind of boring. The battle provides a great opportunity for Wammawink to get through to the Mysterious Woman on an emotional level, which in turn provides the only opportunity in the entire season to make the Mysterious Woman a sympathetic figure. Before the entire cast of heroes can be drowned in the Nowhere King's inky frame, the Mysterious Woman steps through the portal with the Key in hand, chanting as she turns it into a weapon with which to end the fight once and for all. It isn't any surprise that the Nowhere King recognizes her, but him offering his life to her as a sort of pitiful sacrifice for the Mysterious Woman to take absolutely is. He says he never stopped thinking about her, about what they could have had together. There are even a couple of blatant references to him having once been a centaur who may or may not have been in love with the Mysterious Woman. Sure, his villainous turn can be because of a broken heart yadda yadda it doesn't fucking matter. But seeing the Nowhere King lower his head to be slaughtered by the person he has such an obviously deep history with is more than a little bit mind blowing. In an instant, the big bad of the series has gone from killing everything in his path to escape his interdimensional prison to "Maybe you should just kill me instead." It's the kind of turn that takes you out of the show in the best way possible. It's the thing that you have to know more about. It's the secret history between two characters you were only mildly invested in that now has your keyboard screaming "SIX SEASONS AND A MOVIE!" as loud as it possibly can.

And then Rider fucking kills him.

When the Mysterious Woman can't bring herself to end the Nowhere King's life, Rider and Horse do the job for her. Somehow, this only makes things worse, because even after the Nowhere King's oozing body has receded into his skull he is poised to make a comeback. I don't know how that works. His head even did the shakey-shakey thing like a Pokeball does to let you know that it worked. It doesn't matter, though, because fantasy bullshit abounds in Centaurworld, and now that the Rift is open once more Rider can experience all of it for herself. Letting a human who has never visited the titular dimension interact with it for the first time, without warning, creates some of the best comedy in the entire series while still managing to touch on some deep subject matter. Rider's horrified reactions to the cartoon creatures living literally under her feet aren't far removed from Horse's own at the beginning of the series, but when Horse's reminder that things are okay sets in, the relief becomes palpable. Someone who has been at war her whole life is finally okay. No one is trying to kill her. She does not need to kill someone or something else to keep herself alive another day. Rider is okay, for the first time ever, and it is beautiful. Of course, this isn't her world, plus there is still a war to win, so Rider and Horse must return to the place they came from. It's another lesson in letting go, and then it turns into another lesson in letting go when Horse decides she has to stay behind. To defeat the Nowhere King, Horse will need to train an army of centaurs to fight for their home. Cartoon bullshit isn't going to cut it, and no matter how painful saying goodbye is, Horse is absolutely right in her assessment of the situation.

It's a good setup for a second season, and it isn't a horrible moment for a lesson in trust, either. There is also a second major tonal shift in the series during its final scenes as the cast finds a new mission in uniting the armies of the two worlds to make their final stand together. While the Nowhere King's return is revealed and a few more subtle hints are dropped at what fans might expect should Centaurworld continue, these adjustments to the fantasy elements of the series don't stand out nearly as much as those made to the heroes' motivations. After everything that has happened, Centaurworld finds a way to end on an optimistic note despite its core cast having either fully acknowledged the supernatural threat headed their way or walked straight back towards it. The Herd knows what they are actually capable of now. They know that they aren't any good at being heroes just yet, but they are conscious of the fact that they could be. It's a more realistic development than I can think of any other animated series making with its cast, at least in terms of shows that are roughly marketed towards children. Bojack Horseman stands out as a prime example of another series that has done this well, but its hard to compare the two shows on any sort of surface level, which makes doing so on a deeper level feel somewhat disingenuous for the purposes of this article.

There's a lot to be said about the way that Centaurworld handles its subject matter, both the fantasy epic and the deeply meaningful if less than subtle subtext. Most of it is good. The show certainly has its issues, but there isn't any doubt in my mind that a second season would be able to shed the issues that plagued the first. That being said, there are plenty of problems that are plainly foreseeable if Centaurworld is picked up for another ten episodes. The whole backstory of the Nowhere King and his relationship with the Mysterious Woman is the foremost plotline that needs to be resolved, but that needs to happen early on. Tension has already been built. The audience gets it, they just need the details. Withholding that for more than a few episodes would be a recipe for failure, because there isn't enough happening to make up for it. Centaurworld is colorful and convoluted, but it is not complex, and it doesn't need to be. Putting the villains under the spotlight and exploring their relationship early on means that individual characters and further exploration of their surroundings can be fully enjoyed by fans without any stress regarding when the next big reveal is going to happen. Let the stakes be known. Make the audience aware of as much as possible when it comes to motivations. Give us everything there is to give about the characters who inhabit these worlds and then let us explore those worlds alongside them, because the settings are far more interesting than any individual character in this series could be.

The good thing about that is that Centaurworld isn't really about any individual character. We the viewers don't need to latch on to any particular figure to grow with them. Nobody is so deep that they require a forensic study to identify what their specific neuroses are. Glendale steals stuff. Wammawink has just so much unresolved trauma. Durpleton has daddy issues that he makes up for with talking farts. If there were an occasional F-bomb this would be the heartfelt musical fantasy equivalent of Rick & Morty, and that isn't a bad thing. There are genuinely important messages hidden in plain sight all throughout Centaurworld that cement it as a truly endearing animated series the same way that Adventure Time and Steven Universe are. It might not be as good as those other shows, but the fact that it is comparable in any positive manner is already a powerfully supportive statement. It's wacky enough to save the audience from its most depressing moments, thrilling enough to overcome the jokes that don't land, and smart enough to know when it's doing something wrong in the right kind of way. Centaurworld has itself figured out enough to be very good with glimmers of greatness every so often. It probably doesn't need more than one more season to finish its story, but it absolutely deserves at least that much.

John Dodge just realized how long this review turned out and he does not know how to feel about it. You can send him your thoughts and/or recommendations on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. He can also be found writing about comic books nearly every single day at CBR.com. If you enjoyed this article, click the heart below, and don't forget to subscribe to get notified when John publishes new articles right here on Vocal.