There are times when I still can’t believe what Fringe has come to mean to me, and that it’s been a year without it in my life.
The months leading up to the finale were filled with Fringe since I had to catch up with it because they didn’t air S5 in my country until like two months after “Liberty/An Enemy Of Fate”. It turned out to be a blessing because those first weeks of January 2013 were really hard on me. In fact, 2013 as a year sucked in many ways. But, as sad or fangirly as it may sound – I don’t care, Fringe was one of the really few reasons I got through it. The day the finale aired I watched it on a livestream. I actually felt so confused after it finished and 8 minutes later started crying. For those who don’t know me, getting me to cry over something like a show, a book, a song, or other media is really hard. Well, the bastards accomplished it. The adorable, heart-wrenching bastards…
Even though it was snubbed from so many awards or merits, it stood like a giant among so many contemporary series, and it still does. The story and the characters are all impossibly out of the box, and the joint work of everyone in front and behind the scenes made it a triumph for the labour of true love.
After Season 3, the future seemed foggy for the series, and getting it moved to the “death slot” on Friday nights wasn’t really helping.
You may have heard stories of fandoms getting their show to be the most watched, or getting books, Trending Topics, whatever. But with Fringe, its fandom -the fringies- was really the one thing that kept it alive. With thousands of letters, Internet pleas, and a brilliant move where its offices received a ton of boxes filled with red licorice -Walter’s favorite thing, the future was swayed in our favour and the show kept going for 3 more years. Without hunky, sensual leads, overly-intricate storylines, huge guest-stars, or the likes, it managed to subsist and bring joy to millions around the world.
In this last year I’ve realized I’ve grown a lot as compared to the boy who started watching Fringe back in ’08, and now I can understand the series in so many new ways. I realize how brilliantly imperfect it is; how human, clever, funny, depressing, multilayered, and deep and simple at the same time. Now I can really get it when fellow fringies say Fringe is a story about love, a love that breaks universes, timelines, and nature itself to subsist. Not just between Walter and Peter, or Peter and Olivia, but everyone involved: My fantastic Astrid, my brave Philip, my unbelievable Nina, my passionate Etta, my brilliant Lincoln, my devoted Charlie, my soulful Donald/September, my tender Michael, my amazing Gene, my quirky Brandon… Just so many people, from this, the other and every single universe and timeline. Hell, pretty much every username from every social network I’m part of is Fringe inspired: cortexiphanjunkie, @EnemyOfFate, Brandon Bishop…
This is a story that I’ll never forget, not one line, and I will always keep spreading the values it taught me, its lessons, its quirkiness, and everything that made me sit here and write this tantrum. A story that proves it’s still possible to make good television and still have legions of devoted, loyal followers. And I would gladly do it all over again if I had to.
You may say I’m delusional or a dreamer for investing so much in these sorts of things. But I’m glad I’m a dreamer, a believer, and I’m quite proud of it. I’m glad Fringe exists in my mind, my memory and my hearts (I’ve got two, naturally) because it has always made me push harder for what I believe in, and to believe in many more things. To explore, strive to know more about who and what surrounds me, and never act out of hatred or cowardly. To believe that there’s more than one of everything and that no one is everyone but every one can mean everything. And most importantly, to keep looking up. Always.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go and have a bit of a cry because I’ve never had licorice in my entire life.
09/09/08 – 01/18/13