Twitter

Where to Stream:

Tuca and Bertie

Netflix’s list of one-season wonders has just grown, again. Lisa Hanawalt’s Tuca & Bertie has become the latest Netflix original to be cut off at its knees, likely thanks to the power of the almighty algorithm. And it sucks. Every time a great show is canceled too early, it sucks. But Tuca & Bertie‘s cancelation feels so much more painful because there was seemingly very little reason for it.

Created by Lisa Hanawalt, Tuca & Bertie follows the story of two anthropomorphic birdie best friends: the care-free and impulsive Tuca (voiced by Tiffany Haddish), and the sweet, introverted Bertie (voiced by Ali Wong). In the first few episodes they do exactly what you think they will: Tuca and Bertie go on wacky adventures in their crazy world filled with topless, booby plant women and turtles that defy the laws of physics. But as its 10-episode first season continued, it morphed into something far more complicated and subtle. It became about two women who needed to love each other, though they were growing apart and reckoning with their unique, psychological scars. Tuca & Bertie never overtly said it was talking about self-hatred and sexual abuse, but it never had to. The show’s quiet sense of support between these two friends spoke volumes.

Tuca & Bertie was, and is a weird show; there’s no way around it. And that’s probably at least in large part what led to its cancelation. Despite its overwhelming critical praise (the show is one of the few to have a 100% Certified Fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes), Tuca & Bertie was never widely discussed. It’s impossible to know how many people watch any Netflix show since the company notoriously doesn’t release viewership numbers, but it’s hard to imagine the animated comedy having a wide audience.

The nuance and oddity that made Tuca & Bertie such a treasure also likely worked against it. Netflix is a system built upon recommendation algorithms and Netflix originals that feed viewers into watching other Netflix originals. While it’s possible to imagine that a viewer who likes BoJack Horseman or Big Mouth may like Tuca & Bertie, imagining that recommendation going the other way around is a bit more difficult. This bird bestie comedy was so unapologetically its own show, even saying that fans of it will like another show feels like a crass cheapening of the experience Hanawalt created. In a landscape filled with television of all types, Tuca & Bertie was its own, unique piece of art.

And that’s why this cancellation is so intensely frustrating. During a time when Netflix is throwing around so much money and posting so many new originals they’re running out of distinctive titles (The Society and The Order, as just two examples), it never felt like Tuca & Bertie was given a fair shot. Yes, Tuca & Bertie is weird. But weirdness has never been a television death toll. It just means these shows need a bit more time to find their audience than surefire hits. Shows like 30 Rock, Community, and yes, Netflix’s own Arrested Development when it originally aired on FOX went on to become beloved tentpoles of television innovation. But all of them struggled to find an audience. Two of them, Community and Arrested Development, were even canceled before streaming services realized it was beneficial to revive them.

After seeing this cycle of slow-burn, quirky hits, the modern television rule seems to be don’t burn off your weird ones. Give them a chance to find their people. That’s exactly what FX and HBO are currently doing with What We Do in the Shadows and Los Espookys, two bizarre comedies that aren’t ratings slam dunks, but have critical acclaim and audience potential. Both were renewed for second seasons; and knowing these two companies, both will receive long, loving press pushes when that new season approaches. Not only was Tuca & Bertie sidelined, it was also canceled before its biggest audience building push happened: BoJack Horseman. Once BoJack returns for its sixth season, recommending viewers to watch Tuca & Bertie feels like a natural move that would boost this smaller show’s audience. Now, Netflix’s algorithm will likely make that same recommendation, but when fans ask if there will be a Season 2, they’ll be met with a resounding “never.”

That’s especially discouraging when Netflix as a company seems to be in the midst of a big animation push. Along with the premiere of shows like She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Tuca & Bertie, Disenchantment, and Big Mouth, Netflix announced a long list of upcoming untitled projects it has with big name animators. In their “Drawing Netflix” promo, the company teased upcoming series and movies from creators such as Glen Keane (The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Pocahontas), Alex Hirsh (Gravity Falls), James Baxter (Who Framed Roger Rabbit, The Lion King), and Megan Nicole Dong (How to Train Your Dragon 2). Is Hanawalt as big of a name? Arguably yes, but even if she wasn’t the promise of streaming is support for projects of all sizes.

Then there’s the optics of this cancellation to consider. Lisa Hanawalt was one of the only women showrunners in adult animation. She was the only one fully in charge of her own show (Jennifer Flackett is a co-creator of Big Mouth and Emily Spivey’s Bless the Harts has yet to premiere on FOX). Adult animation has always been a boy’s club — just look at Adult Swim, a network that still struggles to greenlight projects from female showrunners. With Tuca & Bertie, Netflix was breaking that mold, and breaking it with a show that lovingly and carefully understood women.

Now, Tuca & Bertie is out… But you know what got a second season on Netflix? Love, Death & Robots, an anthology series composed of 18 shorts, none of which were directed by women. Of those 18 shorts only one female creator is credited for adapting the story. Does Love, Death & Robots deserve to exist on its own merits as well? For sure. But the contrast between the two when it comes to the gender divide is stark, and damning.

More than optics, or Netflix’s animation plans, or the company’s failures to support this show as well as it could, the real reason why Tuca & Bertie‘s cancelation makes no sense comes down to who was involved. Tuca & Bertie came from Lisa Hanawalt, BoJack Horseman‘s character designer and one of its producers. She’s a creator who is heavily involved in one of Netflix’s longest running originals, one of its very few shows that seems to sell merchandise, and its only show to run on another network — Comedy Central.

Not only that but Tuca & Bertie has always felt like it’s been a passion project for its incredible voice acting cast. Sure, Ali Wong and Steven Yeun have been on Netflix for years thanks to Wong’s standup specials and Voltron: Legendary Defender as well as Okja. But Tiffany Haddish hasn’t. There’s no proof that Tuca & Bertie led to Haddish releasing her upcoming standup special on Netflix, but based on this always honest comedian’s glowing press tour for the show, it sure seemed like Tuca & Bertie helped cement that decision.

For all the talented creators it endeared itself to, Tuca & Bertie couldn’t have cost Netflix much. We’ve seen Netflix use less popular side projects to convince actors to stick around, like what they did with Will Arnett’s Flaked. Couldn’t Netflix have used some of its projected $15 billion in spending to throw two bird women a bone?

There are a dozen reasons why cancelling Tuca & Bertie was a bad idea. But the most painful one is that Tuca & Bertie wasn’t finished telling its story. This was a show that told novels with its scant 10 episodes. It pushed boundaries about what friendship could look like and perfectly channeled the complicated, loving, supportive magic of female relationships. Every moment of Tuca & Bertie was a gift. And it hurts knowing we won’t be seeing how their story will continue.

Watch Tuca and Bertie on Netflix