By Loryn Stone
News hit the internet yesterday that FOX cancelledThe Last Man on Earth and the world gave a collective “Who gives a shit” shrug. Among the other shows cancelled were The Mick and Brooklyn Nine-Nine, both of which generated more fucks given than the news of The Last Man on Earth which was met with blank expressions and collective agreements of “Huh…I never watched it.”
But you know what? I fucking did.
I watched three god damn seasons before giving up in the forth.
And I feel like a shit hat for it.
Okay- where to start here. You know that feeling you got when you heard the news that Louis CK did horrible things to his female colleagues and the collective internet smugly pushed up their figurative glasses and said “Meehhhhh, I never liked him anyway.” And the rest of us over here were like “GREAT. Good for you. I loved him. I’m heartbroken.”
Well, that’s what watching The Last Man on Earth was like for me for a while there.
I absolutely adored the first season. In a world consumed by The Walking Dead, Last Man was a breath of fresh air in the “Oh shit, everyone is dead” genre. A comedic approach? You have my attention. A complete mess of a man who has been a useless liar his entire life is suddenly alone? Let’s see what this weirdo does. Segue into him meeting the other remaining people on the planet (who of course, are the worst possible people who ever existed) and the first season was strong, entertaining (albeit not phenomenal) television.
And dude. Come on. That bacon episode. That was phenomenal television and the funniest thing I’d seen in a WHILE. (Might have been season two).
But by mid-season two, it was clear the story had run out. The well was tapped dry. The main character, Phil, was more or less playing an extended game of The Real World with his roommates. This character wanted to fuck that one. This character was marrying this one. And this character was pregnant with this one’s spawn. This character was going crazy.
It became exhausting.
And once the cast moved to “San Francisco” to live in an office building, I was just done. Spoiler alert: I USED TO WORK IN THAT GOD DAMN OFFICE BUILDING. I’m not even kidding! It’s an corporate park in West Hills, California where I worked as a Bank of America collections agent. Seriously, I looked at that office complex in the show and got flashbacks. Such bullshit.
But by season three, when the character Pamela came out and kidnapped Phil (Tandy), it was clear that THEY were just done. There was nothing left of this show. But it kept on going! It wasn’t inspired by apocalyptic genres anymore. These “Last people on earth” truly meant nothing. We would never learn about what virus killed everyone. We would never learn if there were more people on earth. We would never learn if there was a reason Tandy’s brother Mike was in space before he came down, caught the ugly, and died. We would never learn if Melissa was truly out for blood or if she got over it.
It was just…talking.
Look how clever Tandy is. See how he shaved his eyebrows? Now you have to look at that fucking face for a whole season.
Look at Kristen Schaal making the Gravity Falls and Louise from Bob’s Burger voice.
Zero stakes. Zero drama. Zero anything important.
I wish the show was gone in season two. And you know what? The fact that it stuck around for so long makes me feel insane. Like everyone loves a thing but I think it’s trash. But no one agrees with me and it makes me feel like I live on an alternative dimension where I don’t understand people and the fuck that’s in their heads.
You may say I’m a lunatic.
You may say I’m taking it all too seriously.
It’s just a show. It’s just a show.
But you know what?
Don’t come crying to me when you hate the final season of Game of Thrones.
EDIT: Brooklyn Nine-Nine has since been rescued by NBC
You can follow Loryn on Twitter.
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