Olan Rogers released this statement yesterday:
Five years of my life. Three seasons of TV. Blood, sweat, and tears. ……became a tax write-off for the network who owns Final Space.
Yup. That’s it. That’s why it’s disappeared everywhere in the USA. Five years of work vanished. When the license is up internationally, Netflix will take it down, and then it will be gone forever. There are no more physical copies of S1 and S2, and no physical copies of Season 3 were ever made. Your memory of Final Space will be the only proof it ever existed unless you own a copy.
I’ve been trying to process how this feels; it’s been hard because it’s just so absurd. Like a tax write-off, really? Or maybe I’ve become so numb to bad things happening in my life because of the frequency with which it has been occurring that I didn’t really register this sting.
But the stinger has broken off underneath my skin. And now it’s annoying. Look, I get it; this decision was just business. But Final Space will always be personal to me. Some might say to give up and move on, and I have moved on to many new projects that I’m very passionate about, but I will not give up on this story and these characters. I will never stop fighting for Final Space. If it takes years, then so be it! #renewfinalspace It’s a banner that you all have been waving, and it’s a rallying cry I can stand behind while I continue into this long dark night chasing an ending for this story.
He’s obviously so upset and I am too. I just can’t believe we treat art like this, and over the past few months I’ve watched in bewilderment as it got worse and worse and left so many artists brokenhearted.
Pirate your movies and TV shows, kids. Especially if they were never actually released on home media. (Seriously, why the hell would anyone not do that?! But here we are.) You can’t trust big corporations to be caretakers of anything and apparently they now do the equivalent of burning down a small library every couple of months.