A Love Letter To ‘Quantum Leap’

Every week, I get the privilege the write about the shows like that resonate the most with me. I’m very lucky to have a platform that allows me to do it, and most of the time, it’s an absolute joy. Except for moments when I have to write articles like this. Articles that say goodbye to a show that’s resonated with me. Perhaps far more than a television show rightly should.

After a few days trying – and failing – to accept the news of its premature cancellation, I have to write an article saying goodbye to Quantum Leap. Though “goodbye” is hard to stomach, and I’m really not ready yet to let it go. So I’ll shoot for a “see you later.”

At any rate, I know I’m not alone. Quantum Leap fans as a whole are still trying to process the devastating news that it will not be returning for a third season. Maybe it’s not entirely a surprise. The cast tried to warn us that a cancellation was at the very least possible. And theoretically there’s always the possibility of a last-minute save by a streaming service (though I try to avoid getting my hopes up too high for that sort of thing, since it’s relatively rare). I’m also very well aware that my disappointment as a fan has to pale compared to the people who worked behind the scenes (and in front of the camera!), pouring their hearts and souls into this series.

Still, as a hard-core fan who was truly touched by the show, I couldn’t let this one pass without saying one last, genuine, heart-felt…thank you. Thank you to everyone who helped make the show possible. Thank you to everyone who helped bring a ray of hope to my television week after week, reminding me that there is still good in the world.

If I can get personal for a moment (which I try not to do outside of the occasional joke in my reviews)…I had a daughter a couple of years ago, shortly before Quantum Leap premiered. It is by FAR the most terrifying thing I have ever done. Not just because anyone who knows me can attest that I have never been what one might consider “naturally maternal.” But also, in my life prior to being a mother and writing about television shows, I studied international law. Specifically war crimes (although I also know a surprising amount about banana consumption rates in Germany and European contract disputes over beet sugar, which are two topics that strangely never come up at parties). There has been more than one night that I’ve watched the news or remembered a story from my pre-parenthood life and completely broken down, terrified at the kind of world I’ve brought my child into.

Maybe that’s why Quantum Leap meant so much to me. It came at just the right time to remind me that, while there is evil in the world, there’s kindness too. And kindness has power and strength of its own. The world can be a terrible place, it’s true. But it can also be a beautiful one.

It’s like what Mr. Rogers said (yes, I’m evoking his name again, even though I remember what happened the last time. I like to live dangerously): “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.'” Quantum Leap reminded me that there are helpers in the world. Those helpers might not come in the form of a time-traveling scientist – though if one wanted to step in and give it a shot, I don’t think their efforts could hurt. But Ben’s true power was never really in his leaping. It was in his compassion, his empathy, and, yes, his kindness.

So, sure, Quantum Leap was occasionally cheesy (in the best of ways). And it caused my shipper heart more than a small amount of pain this last season. But every week, when I turned on an episode, I knew I was going to see a story about the power of doing good. I knew everyone I cared about in the show would get a happy ending – even if it wasn’t the particular happy ending I was specifically rooting for. I knew I would end the hour with a smile and maybe a tiny bit of hope that the world can be better tomorrow than it is today.

If all of the procedural shows littering the television landscape show the world as it unfortunately all too often is, Quantum Leap showed the world as it could be. That’s important. We need to be given hope every once in a while. We need to be reminded that good may not be as flashy, but its ripple effects can be more powerful than anything evil can do.

The unfortunate thing (in a sense) about a show like Quantum Leap is that – like the kindness it espouses – I think it’s the type of series that needed room to grow. Looking at the second season as a whole, it was stronger than the first. (Although, may I remind you, it caused me significant pain.) I have no doubt that the third season would have been better yet. However, in today’s television landscape, shows aren’t always given the time they need to really grow into themselves. It’s a no-win situation, for writers and viewers alike. Writers need viewers to give them the time to let their stories develop, but viewers know all-too-well the frustration of getting deeply invested in a story, only to have it cancelled after only one or two chapters. This makes viewers less likely to really want to give new shows a chance until they’ve been around for a few years, but a show won’t make it a few years without viewers.

Of course, I’m not naive about how the television industry works. To quote The Secret of My Success, “Love is love, but business is business.” We love shows, but NBC is a business, at the end of the day, and networks make decisions according to a bottom line. I get that. But cancelling a show like Quantum Leap after only two seasons seems a disservice. To the people who put on the show, of course, but also to the viewers. Losing a story about hope, particularly now, is a definite loss.

I feel perilously close to getting on a soapbox, here, so let me redirect before I start talking about all the ways I want everyone involved with the decision to cancel this show to step barefoot on a Lego every day for the rest of forever. Because it would be a travesty if I ended this letter on a sour note. I also cannot wrap it up without expressing my heartfelt thanks to everyone who was involved with the show. From the producers to the writers to the entire cast and crew. But also specifically to the actors, who brought these stories to life and left a smile on my face every week.

Every single actor on this show was perfectly cast. I couldn’t imagine a better person than Raymond Lee to helm a show like this one. I’m sure I said it before, but it can never be said enough. It’s hard for an actor to convey genuine sincerity without being a little tongue-in-cheek, particularly in such a cynical era as the one in which we live. But Lee managed it flawlessly every time. We believed Ben could help people through kindness and with empathy because Lee made us believe Ben’s sincerity with both. I hope whatever project he does next makes good use of the full range of his skills, because Lee is an actor who should not be underestimated. (For example…putting this out into the universe now: if anybody is looking for an actor to play the next Superman? Please give this man a call. The way I can already tell he would nail one of my favorite fictional characters of all time.)

As a fan of Caitlin Bassett‘s Addison, this cancellation may be the hardest for me to take. I feel like her character in particular was just about to come into its own. I rewatched the (nearly flawless) season series finale the other day, and I was reminded of just how much potential was about to come to fruition for her character. She was finally about to take ownership of her own life, and I was going to be here for it every second along the way. It breaks my heart that I won’t get to see where Ben and Addison – as individuals leaping together and as a couple – get to go next. Bassett also remains one of my favorite interviews I’ve done for Fangirlish, so whatever show she goes to next, she can count me in the audience…and (fingers crossed!) on the other end of the press circuit.

I know I’m not alone in missing Mason Alexander Park‘s Ian already. I had really been looking forward to them taking turns as Ben and Addison’s hologram, and I was eagerly anticipating the banter they’d bring with both characters. They brought such humor and heart and vulnerability to the role of Ian, week after week. I will truly miss seeing where Ian was going to go next (though I am looking forward to seeing Park again in the next season of The Sandman).

And speaking of characters that were just about to come into their own. Nanrisa Lee‘s Jenn had so much potential for the future. I wanted to see her act as Ben and Addison’s hologram. Or maybe she’d take on a more leadership role at the project. I wanted to see more of her character’s backstory; I feel like those stories would be salacious, to say the least. And, no, I’m still not over her (temporary) death in the finale. That one still hurts.

Last but certainly not least, it’s hard to say goodbye to Ernie Hudson as Magic. As head of the project, Hudson could have played Magic as a hard-ass, determined to keep his team in line. (To be fair, they could have used some more keeping in line at times.) At the very least, Magic could have been one of those “I’m your boss, not your friend” superiors. But Hudson played Magic with such love and compassion for the people around him. He was the perfect amount of support, accountability, and willing-to-die-on-his-sword-for-his-pack-of-unruly-puppies. He was the kind of “authority figure” that I enjoy most on these types of shows – hard exterior (when needed) covering up genuine love for his team.

Thank you to everyone who brought me – and every viewer like me – a spark of hope each week. Quantum Leap‘s run was all too short, and its loss will definitely continue to be felt for some time. But, like Ben, it impacted the lives of its fans. It touched our hearts. Gave us hope. Reminded us that the world doesn’t have to be a terrible place. And the ripple effects from that message? Well, I hope that continues to be felt for even longer.