It is a sad day in my household. Yesterday, we were handed the news that Netflix zom-com Santa Clarita Diet had not been renewed by the streaming giant, and fans are forced to accept a major cliffhanger as the ending to the endearing show. I have been hurt by cancellations before; Firefly, while slightly before my time, was of course taken from us too early, as was Deadwood, Agent Carter, Constantine, and Freaks and Geeks. However, none have seemed to have hit me as hard as Santa Clarita Diet: a show that was both completely ridiculous, and ridiculously human.
Santa Clarita Diet ran for three seasons and featured an undead Drew Barrymore trying to reconcile her new lust for human flesh with her family life and job as a realtor. It featured a strange mixture of heavy laughs and over-the-top violence, yet it never felt out of place. Really, the show was lucky to be optioned in the first place; the concept is absolutely nuts, the humour subtle, and the number of bodily fluids that fly throughout the three seasons is quite substantial. After the cancellation, showrunner Victor Fresco and executive producer Tracy Katsky released a statement, thanking Netflix for taking a chance on such an odd property.
“Netflix took at chance on this odd show and for that we will always be grateful. They were supportive, ever positive, and appreciative of our work. Until about noon today. Still, they were just one phone call away from being a perfect studio. Not bad. Everything ends. This was a thing. And so it ended. We’ll miss it but are proud of the work we did and will always appreciate the love and enthusiasm we felt from our audience. [If it] was up to them, Sheila and Joel would continue for another 10,000 years.”
The issue is, if it was up to me, it would have continued for two more years. Netflix’s knack for cancelling shows after three seasons has annoyed me to no end—giving us enough of the show to become fans, but then taking away any prospect of a satisfying conclusion. Fresco had already mentioned that he had planned for the series to have a tight, five-season run. It hurts even more that, due to the company’s tight lips on viewing figures, we had no idea the show was failing. Traditional television, while having a multitude of its own problems, allows audiences to track their favourite show’s performance and try to (even futilely) boost ratings. For the most part, we can predict a show’s cancellation by keeping up-to-date on viewing figures, being able to enter semi-palliative care for the fandom before we are given the news. Netflix robs that from fans, making the cancellation feel even more untimely.
It doesn’t help that Netflix has built itself up with the reputation as a knight in shining armour, that saves shows from the brink of cancellation. Lucifer, for example, has had a troubled run on network television before getting a last chance at life on the streaming service. Sure, a lot of people would have preferred if Arrested Development had not risen from the grave, with the later seasons not living up to its heydey. However, being cancelled by Netflix is laced with finality—where else would a show like this go? If something so niche and unique cannot survive on the world’s largest streaming platform, who would try to revive it elsewhere?
So, while it lasted, what did the show give us? Apart from being absolutely bonkers on the Serbian-zombie-lore front, we had some fantastic characters to root for. Barrymore and Olyphant are powerhouses at the best of times, but as Joel and Shiela, they provided us with two comedic characters we have never seen the likes of before. It was a feat that we were able to see a duo who murder people for food as ‘relationship goals’… but they were. They were one of the healthiest relationships on television; they communicated, supported each other, and played to each other’s strengths constantly. I will be forever grateful that this series was able to showcase Olyphant’s comedic talents, providing one of the best characters in modern comedy.
Even more daring was the show’s depiction of gender. Shiela and Abby were both headstrong, powerful women whose male counterparts acted as support for their actions. There is already a lot of discussion surrounding the need for female representation in media; however, where this show shone was in its representation of males. Both Joel and Eric were characters who were able to be sensitive, supportive, and kind without ever losing an ounce of ‘masculinity.’ These characters are not inept, disempowered stereotypes al a Al Bundy, but instead are strong, capable men who are able to at once support the women in their lives while maintaining their own aspirations. Just as women may have been tired of being the ‘nagging wife’ in most sitcoms, men are also mostly cast as fat, lazy slobs, Big Bang Theory-style nerds, or quippy one-liner bots. Joel and Eric were the heart of the show, and I will be forever grateful I was able to see the men I know in real life represented so well on screen.
After reviewing the first season of Santa Clarita Diet, I would never have expected that a series like this would mean so much to me, nor would I have expected to mourn its loss so vividly. Yes, I have thirty episodes to rewatch to my heart’s content, but the thought that these characters will not get the resolution they deserve saddens me. Sure, things end… and I may be already emotionally broken by rumours about The Orville, and saying goodbye to some of my favourite characters in both Avengers: Endgame and Game of Thrones… but I feel like I must take a moment to grieve the loss of one of the best comedies on television today.
I’ll miss you, Santa Clarita Diet. Perhaps, one day, you can take the lead of your main character and rise from the dead unexpectedly. For now, I’ll keep my hopes down, and try to fight the urge to cancel my Netflix subscription out of protest.
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