A Killjoys Mash Letter 

In the summer of 2014, I interviewed Luke Macfarlane for a Hallmark movie called The Memory Book. I didn’t know who he was and hadn’t watched Brothers & Sisters, but before I talk to anybody, I do my research so I can speak reasonably intelligently. We hit it off immediately.

On the day we spoke, he was somewhere in Illinois, driving cross-country to start work on Killjoys, a Syfy series I hadn’t yet heard of. As soon as he hung up, I Googled it. Michelle Lovretta was behind it and I’d loved Instant Star and was a day-one Lost Girl fan—my only Syfy pull quote ever was, “Fun sci-fi badassery” from my Televixen piece on its pilot.

I knew Aaron Ashmore from Warehouse 13 and Lost Girl. I didn’t know Hannah. And I’d just chatted with this funny, charming actor who was the third titular Killjoy, so with various boxes checked, this show was now fully on my radar. And then I waited.

A full year later, in the summer of 2015, when the show finally landed on Syfy, I loved its funny, weird, sassy vibe. I was in. And in the intervening years, I’ve never left, writing somewhere around 125 pieces about the show, marking it as a touchstone across five summers.

Late in that first season, when “Kiss Kiss, Bye Bye,” the episode where D’av and Dutch hooked up and then he nearly killed her, came along, I very nearly bailed. But I trusted that Killjoys had something different to say in a story built with those pieces, and it did. And I stayed.

At the end of the first season, we didn’t know for sure there would be a second, and we had a few cliffhangers and dead/near-dead folks, so that was a nalbiter of a wait, but two weeks later, we did get a renewal. Yay!

The following February, I went up to Toronto for the first of three set visits, and everyone we spoke to was thrilled to have us, thrilled to be part of the show, and to a person, were just genuinely lovely people to sit in a room with. Peeking behind the curtain of the show and spending an afternoon in the Royale was pretty special.

By that second summer, live Tweeting kicked into gear and made watching the show an interactive love fest with fellow fans and the folks working on the show. Full disclosure: my memories of specific aspects of that season were sort of overshadowed when, the night of the second season finale, I wiped out on a concrete floor in Whole Foods. I was sure I’d broken my leg, which I thankfully had not, so I missed that last live Tweet and watching the ep live, but I had previewed it. On the upside, the show was renewed the day before the finale.

That fall, the world tilted on its axis a bit, and when Season 3 rolled around the next summer, we definitely needed that delightful weekly balm for the lingering collective sadness and rage brewing outside. We met new characters, the universe expanded, and the online community expanded with it. Three seasons in, it was still appointment TV.

In the days leading up to the Season 3 finale, Hurricane Harvey hit Houston. When I watched the screener, just as the hurricane was coming onshore, I had a very meta philosophical reaction about how the season was ending. It would suck if they were done, but I was OK with where they left them.

At the end of the day, it was a TV show, and hopefully all these genius people would go back to work immediately. And then we found out they were renewed for a fourth and fifth season just before the finale aired. They’d get to tell their own story through to the end. Again, yay!

I went back up to Toronto the following February for a solo press trip, which was as magical as it sounds. Sitting in the quiet of an empty set and talking one-on-one with many of the folks who bring us this show, who were still just as animated and warm talking about the job that they loved, was a perfect day.

Last summer, I leaned all the way into Season 4. I wrote 33 pieces here at TV Goodness—a mix of interviews, recap features, and previews, and the move to a 10 pm ET timeslot made it much easier to live Tweet the entire season. Last August, I visited the set for a third and final time, banking another memorable day that again reinforced how spectacular the folks on this show are.

This summer, a year after that visit, and almost a year after the cast and crew finished the show, they’ve all still been exceptional humans, making themselves available to talk and share their experiences about the final season, and the show as a whole. And the season, retaining its later 10 pm ET slot, has been a no-holds-barred funfest with a full heart, a few tears and a lot of swagger–and a raucous weekly live Tweet. Just what we needed.

Killjoys concludes its run next Friday after five seasons and 50 episodes. Series finales can trigger a bunch of emotions. Some shows long overstay their welcomes. Others have their finales foisted on them too soon. While I’d have loved seven seasons to follow this trio and their found family around on Lucy, I’m OK with saying goodbye here.

They got to write the ending of their choosing. They told their story with such love and affection, and the people behind the story—all of them—have treated each other and us with such kindness. I’m so proud of them and the season they delivered, and the series worth of stories they told, in their own way and on their own terms. I’m happy for them.

As a gal from Houston, well outside the entertainment industry, who writes about TV as a form of therapy, I am extremely grateful to everyone who made watching and covering this show such an inclusive experience, especially the creative team and cast who have been exceptionally lovely. It’s very rare, and I thank you.

And thanks to the fans who have live Tweeted right along with me, and to our readers here who’ve kept coming back. I have a few more goodies for you before we wrap. First up, check back tomorrow for my preview of the penultimate episode, “Terraformance Anxiety.”

Killjoys airs Fridays at 10 pm/9c on Space Channel and Syfy. All of our Killjoys coverage is here. You can catch all four seasons and the first eight Season 5 episodes on demand on the Space Go app and Syfy app and website.