The female wrestling saga was a brazenly unique blend of retro-pop ridiculata and sharp human comedy.
The lady-wrestling dramedy was already a tart satire in riot-spoof clothes when it debuted in 2017.
In season 2,GLOWdreamed its own cancellation.
Netflix
The series-within-a-series was banished to the 2 a.m. death slot.
A hoped-for revival was scotched by the data pipe’s egomaniac dweebs.
Season 3 doomed everyone to Vegas, a playful detour that will have to stand as a closing statement.
It’s a tragedy.GLOWessentially starred 15 women in double (sometimes triple) roles.
Everyone played one person playing another person.
Their fellow wrestlers struggled within their outrageous caricatures.
For some characters, the ’80s were just the graveyard of the ’60s.
MaybeGLOWjust didn’t fill any obvious niche for the streaming service anymore.
Gilpinearned Emmy nominationsfor her breakout performance, but the show was too weird to ever be an awards darling.
It was very funny without ever being the sort of quippy banter-fest that gets all the attention lately.
They loved working together, and didn’t know if their fans loved them for the right reasons.
These women were modest nobodies grasping for Z-level stardom, not quite the predominant world-conquering tone in aMrs.
WasGLOWtoo silly for the serious audience and too serious for the silly audience?
Executive producer Jenji Kohan actually losttwoNetflix projects on Monday, since the servicedeclined to renew herTeenage Bounty Hunters.
(Tough market for anyone not producing a megabudget space opera, I guess.)
Seasons 2 and 3 took their leisurely time unfurling subplots for its huge ensemble cast.
That was one great setpiece for Brie, who came toGLOWwith three TV masterpieces under her belt.
Make this four afterCommunity,Mad Men, andBoJack Horseman.
Gilpin turned every scene into a master class of controlled-chaos emotionality.
The time is Christmas, the place is an airport in Vegas.
(There is even more retroactive poignance, since the episode was directedby the late Lynn Shelton.)
Debbie has a secret she has to tell Ruth.
She’s going to be running her own TV internet; she’s bringing all the ladies with her.
“I’m going to build us an Eden,” she promises, “wherewerun the show.”
God, I want to see that so badly.
But you only know Paradise when it’s lost.
