Netflix will regret its decision to cancel shows like GLOW in favour of reality TV

The streaming giant’s increasing investment elsewhere makes sense logistically – but it comes at a high price

'Glow' has been cancelled by Netflix (Erica Parise/Netflix)

With Netflix’s announcement this week that it’s cancelling GLOW, a series about the hitherto overlooked world of 80s female wrestling, the case of life imitating art is a bit on the nose. Since its 2017 pilot, GLOW’s plot has been driven by the struggle of making a TV show by women and about women. Sound familiar?

The streaming service is certainly no stranger to cancellation controversies, from One Day at a Time (revived by CBS after fan outrage) to The OA (still clinging onto the season two cliffhanger) but GLOW feels particularly brutal. The show was renewed last year, had already been shooting for three weeks and had completed one episode of the fourth series when the pandemic shut down production. The cancellation was apparently due to the non-Covid-compliant physicality demanded for the wrestling scenes and the inability of Netflix to square the show’s relatively high budget with a delayed ‘to air’ date.

But it wasn’t just that crew, cast and fans alike had had the carrot of a fourth and final series dangled in front of us – we’d already started nibbling.  

At a tight 10 episodes per season, GLOW avoided the pitfalls that have plagued other Netflix originals of baggy storytelling in overly long series that lose momentum halfway through. It had also achieved the tricky double whammy of delighting both critics and viewers, with outstanding lead performances from Alison Brie, Betty Gilpin, Marc Maron and season three addition, Geena Davis.

With female showrunners, a majority female writing staff and a high number of women behind the camera (including the late director Lynn Shelton), GLOW is what happens when the stuffy male suits – many of which feature unfavourably in the show – step aside. Even the show’s stunt coordinator was the first woman to win an Emmy in the category.

With an unmatched ability to be camp, dramatic and funny without sacrificing the integrity of its ensemble cast of characters, GLOW told lots of different stories about lots of different women. If you had doubts that the 80s was a rough ride, GLOW expels them. Its cast of female misfits wrestle with motherhood, misogyny, racism, friendship, sexuality, money troubles, shattered dreams, sexual harassment, societal beauty standards and all the other ways the patriarchy is systematically screwing them over, while simultaneously wrestling each other, of course.  

Perhaps the worst thing is that GLOW was getting better with each series – bolder, funnier and more reflective. The problematic racial stereotypes that some of the characters were forced to perform in the ring in series one (“Fortune Cookie”, “Beirut” and “Welfare Queen”) were initially devices to illustrate acceptable-in-the-80s racism but as the show progressed, it explored the effects on the individual women of having to compromise themselves in this way.  

All of which is why it’s such a crushing body blow to be losing the show before its time. Much of the ire this week has been directed at Emily in Paris, a frothy fashion fantasy that generated the kind of hate-watching buzz that a cynic might assume was exactly what Netflix was after. But Emily cannot shoulder all of the blame and nor should she.  

Alongside GLOW, Netflix has also pulled the plug on The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Teenage Bounty Hunters, The Society and I Am Not Okay With This, among others. And yes, it is worth noting that the majority of these shows have female leads.  

On the flipside of the cull is Netflix’s increasing investment in reality TV, having reportedly commissioned 32 original new shows in the first quarter of this year. And it’s true that alongside banana bread and Joe Wicks, lockdown for many has been defined by binge-watching the likes of Selling Sunset, Too Hot To Handle, Indian Matchmaking and Dating Around.

This makes sense: logistically, these shows have considerably lower budgets and formats that can be more readily adapted to meet Covid-friendly guidelines, while from a viewing perspective, they are compelling and enjoyable without asking too much in terms of concentration or emotional engagement. But perhaps most importantly, at a time when most of us have seen our interactions severely restricted, it is more attractive than ever to watch real people connecting with each other. 

It’s not necessarily fair to pit reality TV against its fictional counterparts – they scratch different itches and satisfy different impulses. But that’s exactly what Netflix appear to be doing when it comes to managing its slate of shows, cutting loose what was a genuinely innovative, moving and self-aware show that afforded equal respect to its storylines as to the authenticity of immovable 80s hairdos.

If sacrifices must be made, it’s a real shame that the head honchos at Netflix have made the same call as the short-sighted 80s execs who gave up on the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling.