This Wonderfully Quirky Series From Star Trek: Discovery's Creator Is Impossible To Stream
Is there an alternate reality out there where Bryan Fuller's shows last more than a few seasons (if even that)? It's a comforting thought, but I kind of doubt it. Fuller's visions are too idiosyncratic to ever fully catch on with mainstream audiences without watering them down, and the artist himself is known for staunchly refusing to ever do that. It's why the "Star Trek: Discovery" creator left that series in pre-production, in addition to (eventually) departing the original iteration of the "Friday the 13th" prequel show "Crystal Lake" ... and Apple TV's "Amazing Stories" revival ... and the Starz-backed TV adaptation of "American Gods." This happens a lot, is what I'm getting at.
Then there are the series that Fuller sticks with through thick and thin, only to watch them die a premature death through no fault of his own. Such was the case with his whimsical, Lee Pace-starring murder investigation rom-com "Pushing Daisies" (even categorizing Fuller's work can be hard!), but at least that show got a fairer shake than his and Pace's previous collaboration on "Wonderfalls." Never heard of it? That's because it's unavailable to (legally) stream at the time of writing, and physical copies have been out of print for some time. But even back when the series was airing its singular 13-episode season on Fox in 2004, the network was actively trying to kill it. (For more on that, you should read this "Wonderfalls" column that some rando wrote for /Film.)
As for why a show with an indubitably quirky yet otherwise seemingly innocuous premise involving talking knick-knacks and curios (never fear, we'll unpack that in a bit) found itself in Fox's crosshairs before being banished to the non-streaming void? That probably has more than a little to do with its thematic underpinnings.
Wonderfalls argues that doing good is more valuable than appearing successful
"Wonderfalls" protagonist Jaye Tyler (Caroline Dhavernas) is a sardonic, newly minted college grad who rebels against her domineering, conservative parents the only way she can think of: by puttering around as a sales clerk at a Niagara Falls souvenir shop and living in a trailer. Can anything shake her out of her quarter-life malaise? Why yes: When assorted animal-shaped objects (ranging from small wax lions to plastic lawn flamingos) inexplicably begin telling her to do things, and refuse to shut up when she ignores them, Jaye eventually heeds their enigmatic instructions. The result? She starts changing other people's lives for the better.
A lesser show might've had these talking novelties help Jaye to get a higher-paying job or a nicer place to live, but not "Wonderfalls." Instead, it argues that doing good is far more valuable than appearing successful. Take Jaye's older sister Sharon (Katie Finneran), a Type A immigration lawyer who's firmly in the closet, or Jaye's older brother Aaron (Pace), a PhD student in comparative religion who basically thinks his entire field of study is BS. While the pair seems more respectable than their younger sibling on the surface, they're equally hot messes in their own way, and it's only thanks to Jaye's (at first confusing, yet ultimately selfless) actions that they begin getting their lives together.
You can see why Fox's bigwigs might've blanched at a forward-thinking series like that circa 2004, especially one as tonally and stylistically eccentric as "Wonderfalls." (The show frequently riffs on the aesthetics and motifs of various genres, on top of embracing offbeat storytelling choices and camerawork of its own.) Its unavailability on streaming makes it harder to track down, but as Jaye learns, some tasks are worth the added effort.