We’ve all been there.
Watching a TV series, slowly going from “Hey, I’m really loving this so far,” to “This is the best show ever created, and nothing will ever compare to it.” The show will end in a jaw-dropping cliffhanger that you’ll completely forget about until the series’ new season comes back on air and, suddenly, it’s like these characters, this story, and its intricacies never really left you. All the feels are still there. The excitement is palpable.
Then comes the inevitable: your show’s been cancelled… on a cliffhanger or worse, on a very bad season that had concepts of a plot.
I’ve been a victim of this far too many times. So often that I usually joke I’m cursing all my favorite TV shows just by knowing of their greatness. A curse that probably started when series like The Secret Circle, Star-Crossed, The Shannara Chronicles, and some other TV shows that have probably been lost to time were taken from me.
I understand why they’re cancelled. I do. Low viewership, high production costs, creative differences, etc. No matter the reason, every time it happens it feels like a betrayal — and I know I’m not alone in thinking so. Over time, Netflix has earned itself a reputation as the streaming platform that demands instant worldwide success from its content to renew it. And I understand that as well, they’re a business over anything else. However, if they’re nipping shows in the bud, how can showrunners truly expect some of their creations to succeed when they weren’t even given the chance to gain a following in the first place?
Take The Office and Parks and Recreation, which, for example, had abysmal first seasons. By giving them the chance to flourish and grow into their own, they became two of the most beloved sitcoms of all time.
That’s why it still angers me to think of the missed potential of some of the more recently cancelled shows like Julie and the Phantoms had. If you’ve heard any recent Netflix discourse, then you’ve probably heard about this show. A grieving girl forms a band with three ghosts from 1995. When I say JATP had me (and still does) in a choke hold, I’m not kidding. This show had everything: amazing music and choreography, a unique plot, and representation! Nothing warmed my heart more than seeing Julie, our main character, holding a Puerto Rican flag in that first episode—which is a critique I’d like to emphasize in this article.
Netflix has been coming under fire for its suspicious pattern of cancelling TV shows that portray a mostly diverse cast of characters. With series such as First Kill, Dead Boy Detectives, I’m Not Okay With This, and more, getting the chop after just one season.
And if the show isn’t cancelled after that first season, don’t rest easy just yet. Two years ago, Shadow and Bone became one of the unlucky many, with its second season becoming its last. The well-known book adaptation attracted both new and long-time fans debuting at #2 in the U.S. and landing in the Top 10 in 85 countries. The actors, the plot, the CGI and special effects… everything in this series was phenomenal. And to top it off, Shadow and Bone was an extremely diverse series, featuring LGBTQ+ and disability representation, along with a cast where more than half were people of color.
So why are cancellations like these such a problem?
Because they shift the focus away from quality storytelling to revenue-driven decisions.
By creating an environment that focuses on mainstream and familiar stories because they’re economically successful, fresh and inclusive pieces then struggle to survive. While I understand their reasoning, they’ve now arrived at a crossroads between inclusivity or innovation and market realities; and it has proven to be a challenging issue to tackle. Because while it’s true that they’ve had many inclusivity-driven series like Bridgerton or The Umbrella Academy, diverse characters are usually never at the forefront of these stories. Instead, we’re supposed to be content to be included in them at all, even if it’s as secondary or supporting characters.
So in many cases, it’s not just about losing TV shows and potential stories, it’s also about losing the little representation we’ve been granted. It’s about taking away diverse voices from the main conversation. And it’s about media networks contributing to the erasure of perspectives that deserve to be seen.
The worst is there’s nothing we can truly do about it. Some fans have taken to creating and signing petitions to bring their favorite shows back. While some of these initiatives have worked, as was seen with programs like Lucifer (which was cancelled by Fox and later bought by Netflix after an “intense Twitter campaign”), most times the efforts are in vain. Anne With an E, for example, has over a million verified signatures begging for the series’ renewal with no response from Netflix executives. Other fans have dropped streaming in its entirety as well. In fact, just last year, Netflix’s subscriber growth began to slow down. While the numbers didn’t seem to concern the platform’s research analysts, they did state that to counteract this decline, ads would be their path forward.
If networks continue prioritizing instant success over long-term investment, then we risk losing not just good TV, but an entire generation of new and refreshing storytelling. So the question remains: Will the industry adapt and finally give these stories the room to grow and flourish, or are we doomed to watch history repeat itself, one cancelled show at a time? I suppose only time will tell.