Netflix’s animated comedy "Long Story Short" has quietly emerged as a standout hit of 2025, offering viewers a poignant, funny, and deeply authentic look at family, faith, and the inexorable passage of time. Created by Raphael Bob-Waksberg—best known for the acclaimed "BoJack Horseman"—and artist Lisa Hanawalt, the show has drawn immediate praise from critics and audiences alike, quickly earning a perfect 100% score on Rotten Tomatoes just one day after its release, according to Metro.
The series, which debuted on August 22, 2025, follows the Schwooper family, a middle-class Jewish clan living in the San Francisco Bay Area. The family includes matriarch Naomi (voiced by Lisa Edelstein), patriarch Elliot (Paul Reiser), and their three children: Avi (Ben Feldman), Shira (Abbi Jacobson), and Yoshi (Max Greenfield). As reported by The Guardian, the show’s narrative hops back and forth across decades—from childhood vignettes set in the 1990s and 2000s to adult storylines unfolding as recently as 2022—using a non-linear structure that both challenges and rewards attentive viewers.
From the outset, "Long Story Short" makes its thematic intentions clear. In the very first episode, Avi plays Paul Simon’s "The Obvious Child" for his girlfriend Jen (Angelique Cabral), marveling at a lyric that compresses years of life into a single moment: "We had a little son and we thought we’d call him Sonny / Sonny gets married and moves away." Avi reflects, "Like, one moment, you’re young, you’re free. Next thing you know, 'Sonny gets married and moves away.'" As Mashable notes, this meditation on the swift passage of time sets the tone for the entire series, which often collapses years into a single beat, inviting viewers to fill in the blanks between childhood and adulthood, joy and loss.
Each episode opens with a short vignette from the Schwooper siblings’ youth before leaping forward to their present-day lives. This structure, reminiscent of the emotional line breaks in Simon’s song, allows the show to explore major life events—divorces, deaths, bar mitzvahs, and funerals—without spelling out every detail. Instead, the audience infers the intervening years through subtle dialogue and visual cues. A particularly powerful moment comes at the end of the premiere, when Avi and Jen are seen cuddling on a plane ride home from Yoshi’s bar mitzvah in 2004, only for the scene to cut to 2022, where Avi sits alone in his car, hinting at the couple’s separation. As Mashable’s Belen Edwards writes, "Paired so closely with their younger, loving selves, the reveal of Avi alone is an emotional gut punch, and a perfectly melancholy teaser of what else Long Story Short has in store."
The show’s grounded animation style is punctuated by surreal flourishes—a cutthroat corporate striver works at a Chuck E. Cheese competitor called BJ Bananafingers, and an abandoned classroom is overtaken by wolves—reminding viewers that while the Schwoopers’ world is recognizably real, it’s also filtered through the heightened lens of animation. The medium enables voice actors to portray their characters from childhood through old age, further blurring the lines between past and present.
What truly sets "Long Story Short" apart is its nuanced exploration of Jewish identity—not just as a cultural backdrop, but as a living, evolving spiritual tradition. As Variety reports, Bob-Waksberg wanted to move away from the self-aware irony of "BoJack Horseman" and instead create a world that feels genuinely lived-in. The show dives deep into the rituals, debates, and multiplicities of Judaism, from the family’s kosher kitchen (and the comic tension when Jen mixes up the plates) to a moving Yom Kippur episode that treats the Day of Atonement with rare sincerity. The spectrum of observance is on full display: Shira’s wife Kendra (Nicole Byer), a convert, observes, "There’s no one way to be Jewish," only for Naomi to retort, "Yes, there is! I figured it out!"
Crucially, "Long Story Short" eschews contemporary political controversies—terms like "Israel," "Palestine," and "Zionism" are never mentioned—in favor of a more intimate, universal reckoning with spirituality, grief, and the cycles of family life. The Los Angeles Times notes that this absence might feel jarring to some, but it allows the series to focus on the lived realities of its characters, making space for stories about loss, forgiveness, and the everyday negotiations of faith. The show’s opening credits, a montage of family photos looping through time, echo the bittersweet melody of "Sunrise, Sunset" from "Fiddler on the Roof," another touchstone of Jewish American storytelling.
Fans have responded with enthusiasm. On social media, viewers have called "Long Story Short" a "masterpiece" and "the best show of 2025," praising its unique narrative structure and emotional depth. One Reddit user wrote, "The way it’s handling time feels like what is really gonna get under my skin and eventually make me weep." The Guardian awarded the show four stars, declaring it "so funny and clever it could run forever," while the Financial Times described it as a "bittersweet masterpiece."
Netflix, perhaps sensing it has another cult classic on its hands, has already confirmed that a second season is in production, according to Metro and the Los Angeles Times. This is a notable vote of confidence in a streaming landscape where animated series—especially those that tackle complex emotional terrain—often face an uncertain future. Bob-Waksberg’s previous projects, such as "Tuca & Bertie" and "Undone," were both cut short despite critical acclaim, making the renewal of "Long Story Short" all the more meaningful for fans of his work.
At its heart, "Long Story Short" is about the messy, beautiful process of growing up and growing older, of holding tight to family even as time pulls everyone in different directions. The Schwooper siblings, like so many of us, are always both the children they once were and the adults they’ve become—bratty teens and exhausted parents, filled with hope, regret, and love. As the show’s narrative weaves through decades, it reminds us that every family story is, in the end, a long story short.