Cute Show!
Daniela B.
The students at my local parish absolutely loved this home-video-tape when I brought it in. I loved Angel Bunny as a kid and I am happy to share it with the little ones. Afterward we shared some banana pudding and talked about the important lessons Angel Hare taught us.
I HATE THIS SHOW!!!!!!!!!!
J. Feather
They made me watch this tape in church today. I HATE THIS SHOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT’S SO BORING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It’s okay
Eric L.
Typical Christian cartoon. I remember really liking Angel Gabby (didn’t she have a different name?) as a kid catching new episodes on Saturday mornings, but it doesn’t hold up. Your children will probably enjoy it and the rabbit is cute, but it’s not very intellectually stimulating. You could do worse though.
Why I love Angel Hare
Shanoa A. Moone
Alright, it’s time to break kayfabe and talk about- rather than Angel Hare the in-universe cartoon- Angel Hare the analogue horror series. (Beware of spoilers, as I summarize the entire series!)
Analogue horror (and its sister genre, digital horror) are defined as horror works that use the aesthetics and format of older mediums (like VHS tapes, cassettes, old video games, etc.) to add to the horror of the narrative. I’ve always had a sort of conflicted feeling about the little internet horror subgenre. I love indie and outsider art, and I love horror and creepypastas. Some analogue horror can be really tense and unsettling, but the subgenre has fallen into many traps as the art movement gained more adherents. When analogue horror is good, it’s genuinely great, but that’s rare. When it doesn’t hit the mark, it feels trite and derivative.
Out of all the various online horror projects I’ve enjoyed, Angel Hare is by far my favorite (though I’m always quick to call it more of a mystery show than a horror). I even reviewed the show on my blog back in 2023! The subversion of online-horror tropes, concise storytelling, and the East Patch’s adept hand at creating mystery and intrigue make it a very cohesive, tight story that’s thrilling from start to end.
But more than a well-written plot, I think Angel Hare really shines because of its emotional core. It’s about trauma; about growing up, escapism, and friendship. It is a show that understands trauma, and understands the media it borrows from, and understands the child psyche. This is what makes it stand out, to me. Compared to other works in its genre I’ve watched (like The Walten Files, Mandela Catalogue, Local 58, etc) I find myself much more invested in the characters, lives, and stories within Angel Hare. Part of this is due to the cartoon format, but also due to the character-driven narrative. Each season has an emotional arc, and the characters have conflicts and opinions and interpersonal dynamics. Each one, from the narrator Jonah to the repentant sidekick Francis, feels remarkably fleshed out considering the breezy runtime of each episode, with some being as short as two minutes.
It all starts, as these things often do, with a mysterious VHS tape. Our protagonist Jonah Whitman (recounting his experiences through text-narrated videos shared on YouTube in-universe) finds a copy of a cartoon VHS rerelease at a thrift shop- that being Angel Hare, a Christian cartoon wherein an angelic rabbit teaches a badger named Francis various life lessons. Though he doesn’t remember his time with the show- or much of his childhood, admittedly- he is filled with nostalgia at the sight of it.
But something’s wrong. The VHS isn’t how he remembered the show at all. Something about the show as it originally aired, just felt more... personal. Like it was speaking to him directly. The main character even had the name Jonah! And so, he seeks out the old VCR recordings to compare the two.
Something changed after all. Throughout the season, he chronicles every difference between each version of the episodes, and it becomes increasingly clear that he forgot more than just which cartoons he liked as a kid. The rather standard lessons of the VHS cut are instead overwritten with much more concerning ones, breaking character mid-show- how to barricade a door and hide, how to dismantle what seems to be a gun without incriminating yourself, and when to lie and how to build an alibi.
It was never just Jonah and his mother alone in that childhood house. “HE” lived there, too.
It’s made clear that whoever “HE” is (often assumed to be Jonah’s father) was neglectful, and physically abusive. While I’m hesitant to go into my own history and traumas in a public space (though I may allude at times I prefer to keep it vague rather than oversharing), I will say this: the choice to make the protagonist of the series an adult survivor of abuse, and one who experiences memory-repression, is particularly relatable to me, and I enjoy seeing these ideas and experiences explored through fiction. The abuse depicted is harrowing in how much it leaves up to implication, as we never see it happen directly. But what we do see? A child left alone on easter, a man trying to break down the door of a child’s bedroom, a gun left on the table, a mother completely unacknowledging the abuse taking place? It’s horrific enough on it’s own.
In Jonah’s case, it is heavily implied that his guardian angel Gabriel spoke through the television show in order to instruct him on how to protect himself, construct a watertight alibi- and kill “HIM”. A flood in the town hall (perhaps divinely orchestrated) then eliminated any record of the incident occurring.
All that’s left is echoes- the flawed memory of Jonah, and his mother helplessly trying to understand how such an act of violence could occur, from a very young child no less. The now-adult Jonah, however, is left with the sobering realization of the abuse he suffered- and that he’s been separated from the guardian that saved him, who offered him hope, escapism, and a way out, years ago when the show was broadcast.
All he wants is to have Gabby back.
But in today’s era, anyone can broadcast. And it is through broadcast that the angels speak. So, he plays the show on Twitch.
“Do you remember me?”, he asks.
And, miraculously, Gabby answers, reaching out to the other side of the screen:
“I’m so happy to see you, Jonah. Just look how well you’ve grown.”
There's an odd, eerie feeling to coming back to the media you enjoyed as a child; especially juxtaposing it with the reality of what you were experiencing at the time. There’s plenty of shows, music, and games that are irrevocably tied to the moment in time that I found them and fixated on them. A little of my self and who I was dwells within them, trapped in the moment that they lived- I escaped there for a reason. You’ll never quite be that person again. Is it how you remembered? It’s somehow both disconcerting if it is, and if it isn’t. It’s like a ghost of a different you. I’ve been doing a lot of this revisiting lately; in many ways I feel like my current interests as an adult are closer to who I was in elementary school compared to, say, my high-school self. It’s part nostalgia, part reclamation.
Angel Hare understands this feeling perfectly. It lets tension and dread tell the story in subtle ways, through details as small as the subtle movement of Gabby’s pupils as she watches someone leave a room, and which bible passages she elects to selectively interpret. The slow, numb realization of the reality, of the trauma endured, is true to life. This is why season 1 is still my favorite. That journey- of coming to terms with what happened, and then reconnecting and reclaiming the things that brought Jonah joy- is a really unique story, and it is one told well. Jonah is reunited with his guardian angel, and is armed now with the knowledge of what he has overcome. Gabby offers him comfort and security, and he livestreams the show often in order to spend time with her.
But what happens if that comfort and security is ripped away?
An effective- and kind- metaphor for the passage into adulthood, it seems. Hence why I call Angel Hare a story about growing up.
On Easter, Gabby is missing from the livestream. The show attempts to go on without her, leaving Francis spouting his usual dialogue on loop without his co-star.
And Jonah is afraid. But he leaves the show running, in hopes that something, anything will change. Will be the way it used to be.
It remains the same for months. Until another rabbit appears in Gabby’s place. This one has dark grey fur and dark golden wings, and has an oddly detatched narration style. He keeps changing the script. He’s... offputting. When Jonah first encounters him, he even emphasizes the “HE” and “HIM” in his text-narration in the same way he does for the “HIM” in the previous season. Whatever this creature is, having Jonah’s security ripped away quite suddenly has certainly left him feeling vulnerable.
So he tries to mess with it. He pauses the stream- no dice, as the new character (“Angel Zaggy”) can override it. Any attempts to communicate are ignored.
Until he threatens to stop the stream entirely. That gets Zag’s attention. Finally, he shares his true intentions: He’s looking for Gabby, too. But he can’t do it in Angel Hare- the investigation isn’t turning up any useful clues. So Jonah’s off looking for Zag’s “show of origin”, Wylde Hare.
These early episodes of the second season are disconcerting in the way that season 1 was, though the tension is cut pretty early. But it is smart- Zagzagel’s deadpan delivery is simply a mismatch of genre. He’s from an animated noir detective show aimed at an older audience, whereas Angel Hare is aimed at very young children.
The format of Wylde Hare is not one of wholesome lessons and soft, pleasant fluff, Jonah notes. It is violent and action-packed, but, most importantly, the episodes provide clues. For this case? “Starlet finds a new stage” headlines the day’s newspaper. As it turns out, giving an angel access to the entire internet at once is... overwhelming.
But Gabby will always come when you call.
And thus, Jonah, Francis and Zagzagel call out to her, on multiple monitors, both in real life and within Wylde Hare. Jonah arranges the browser windows into a shape that shows her split across the various screens.
Gabby was never a perfect guardian, and she’s been trying to be one for just about any troubled kid on the internet she can find, effectively splitting her across cyberspace. Unlike the old broadcast days, there are no timeslots, you see.
Jonah blames himself- of course he does. He was the one who dug up this dead media and broadcast it to the world 24/7, just for his own comfort. He asks Gabby to erase his memory, to re-repress everything, fearing that he’s become just another burden, a duty to complete. Gabby refuses. They’re friends, after all, and they’ve come this far together.
There’s no shame in Jonah still needing her help... just as there’s no shame in Gabby needing help from him. In this moment they become equals, with Jonah becoming the angels’ “man on the outside”, more smoothly transitioning them into the new era (even wearing a hat with the logo of “Wreath of Life”, the original publisher of the shows).
Season 2 ends with that vow, and one aspect I really love is that Jonah doesn’t have to forget. He’s never forced to move on. He grows up, reaching a turning point in his arc, but he doesn’t “grow out” of his “childish” interests. There is no bidding farewell to the imaginary friend. A more conventional narrative would have ended with him forgetting. But Angel Hare is, first and foremost, about friendship.
Now, they can face these challenges together! And a new one is waiting, as a friend from Jonah’s past sends in his own anecdote about a game with very similar quirks to Angel Hare...
The game is Hyrax in the Rocks, an old point and click PC adventure game. At first glance it seems ordinary, a simple story about a lost princess. But Segen’s copy- one he received as a child- is different. It’s voice acted. It changes with each playthrough. It gave him an escape. It pushed him towards being more assertive. And, oddly... it seems to perceive Jonah as the threat in Segen’s life. And he’s sick of it, the endless quests and lessons built on years of childhood angst and grudges. He sends the disc to Jonah hoping he can make sense of it, signing off as his “old alibi”- the friend he visited shortly after murdering “HIM”, as Gabby instructed.
It’s an intriguing start, and the angels are hesitant about visiting the medium Camael- the game’s isolated angel- chose. Jonah, of course, feels guilty, as he lost touch with Segen long ago and didn’t care much to remember him at the time. It’s heavily implied that Jonah was somewhat cruel to Segen as well, likely lashing out due to his trauma. What does it mean that Camael is still inhabiting the game after so long? But they all agree that it’s for the best to check up on the enigmatic angel, and Jonah boots up the game, with Gabby and Zag taking the roles of Rogue and Paladin respectively. Whatever waits inside Hyrax in the Rocks, they’ll face it together.
The game directs Jonah to find the jester (who is outright stated to be Camael’s “Fran”, similar to Francis for Gabby and Francine for Zag). However, there’s no sign of Camael. Jonah, having looked up a walkthrough, decides to sequence break, and head directly to the jester’s intended hiding place.
It’s not that easy, though. The jester is gone.
Hyrax in the Rocks is a lonely game- missing assets and characters, empty after years of reshaping itself for one person. At the center of it all, Camael is hiding.
So Jonah proceeds regardless. But when he enters the forest, his companions disappear. They cannot proceed past the cave, and Jonah must face this alone. All this time, he’s relied on Gabby and Zag. He’s needed them to help him fight his battles.
What if- an insecure part of himself says- he’s been using them this whole time?
This is by design. Camael uses the medium to motivate the player down a path of their own making. And so, Jonah must proceed, as the game prods at this insecurity- for using Segen as an escape, for using shortcuts, for “cheating”- and skips right to the ending sequence.
The game gives him pressing questions, but Jonah presses back, eventually unmasking Camael- they’ve been controlling every single character in the game, alone. And so, they finally confront each other directly, as Camael refuses his help and continues to target his guilt. But Jonah remembers that if he “uses” his friends, they “use” him, too- they help each other, after all. And so, he summons them back, with the commands “USE ROGUE” and “USE PALADIN”, confronting this fear directly.
Just as Camael planned.
The princess congratulates Jonah for reaching the end of his “quest” and “becoming a good friend”, ejecting Gabby and Zag from the game. Clearly, something is off, and working without a partner is getting to them. Jonah restarts the game. They attempt to speak with them, but Camael tries to ignore their attempts at reaching out as they spout nonsense intro dialogue to get the game back on track, and under their control. As all else fails, Gabby reaches into the game across the two monitors, and pulls Cammy forcibly into Angel Hare. They will confront this problem directly.
Once inside Angel Hare, Cammy confesses that their partner, Francois, left as a result of Camael- they’re an abrasive, antisocial workaholic that only receives outside attention through players that repeatedly “beat” them, as they are the game, after all. But what Segen needed was a friend, not the constant obstacles to overcome. And isn’t that what Cammy needs, too?
Jonah encourages Camael to begin a quest of their own: to help themself before wearing themself thin for others, and to make themself the kind of friend that Francois would want to come back to. Jonah, too, decides to reconnect with Segen, and the season ends with them meeting in the park as friends, all issues resolved. They’ve both grown over the years, and Jonah has in many ways embarked on the same quest as Camael. He truly has become a good friend, a guardian to the guardians, and a strong person in his own right.
For now, that’s how the story ends. A fourth season hasn’t been announced yet, but neither was the third until weeks before its airing. I trust there’s more to tell, but there’s a beauty in how each season feels like a complete ending in and of itself.
When I first came across Angel Hare, it was during season 2, and I checked it out based on title alone. I’ve always been waiting for an analogue horror series that uses religious imagery in an interesting way, and those early episodes with Angel Gabby- exercising justice in a terrifyingly efficient way, with her own sense of non-human morality- had me hooked. Interestingly, though, the religious and Christian symbolism isn’t “evil” or even really the source of the scares, though it certainly plays on the expectation and tropes. There’s no mistaking that the series is almost definitely made from a Christian perspective, but even as a non-religious person myself I never felt like I was unwelcome, or like it wasn’t made for me, as a viewer and appreciator of independent art projects. It’s not preachy or sanctimonious. It’s just... pleasant. And interesting, and mysterious, and fun.
This is because Angel Hare is about friendship and the forms it can take, more than anything else. About offering help and relying on others and being there, and that’s a theme just about anyone can relate to. Even the repeated motif of hands pressed against the screen- one that appears near the end of every season- relates to the connection between Jonah and the angels. The series posits that trauma cannot be overcome alone, and that our friends, our escape, our joy, give us our strength.
I wish I had my own “Angel Hare” as a kid. It’s a common wish among fans of the series. Angel Gabby truly is the perfect escapist fantasy character- someone who loves you unconditionally and will stop at nothing to keep you safe. Season 2 kind of comments on this fan reception, at least in how I read its subtext, but never judges the viewer- or Jonah, or Gabby- for wishing for someone to lean on.
That’s another thing I really like about this show. It takes “childish things” deadly serious, because they are serious! It’s so easy to dismiss children and the things that bring them joy, but kids are people too and should be respected as much. I would know, I was one once! And play and imagination are what prepare children for adulthood. Angel Hare invites the viewer to imagine, to continue learning and growing through this escapism, in a space without shame.
And I did imagine, back then, as a child. I imagined myself in the paws of wolves and warriors; gliding on owls’ wings; on the backs of horses. I still imagine even now in much the same way, taking comfort in my own “angels”, metaphorically speaking.
Perhaps this inclination isn’t childish. Maybe it’s just human.
Not what I remembered.
J. Whitman
It’s a cute show, but... I remember it being so comforting and safe! I remember the main character had a name and Angel Gabby was a lot different. It was all different.
©1998