As we consider the TV offerings of the recent year, a handful of series emerge not for their brilliance, but for their notable shortcomings. From cringe-inducing spin-offs to bafflingly poor docuseries, here are the programmes that had us scratching our heads or simply reaching for the remote.
Where to begin with this love/hate follow-up? Plagued with woeful scripts, painful character development (justice for Miranda!), and a mere 71 seconds of beloved Samantha, the series fought to find its footing. Briefly, as the third season began, it looked like it had at last hit its stride. Then came an installment all about Seema’s natural deodorant. No wonder the creator announced this would be the final season. It ended on a bum note; the lingering shot of Miranda’s toilet full of poo was just way too on-the-nose. Yet, viewers certainly had a hoot picking apart every single “wtf?” moment. And as Carrie – a single woman once more – twirled around her sprawling townhouse to Barry White, who couldn't release a little sob?
‘Can Kim Kardashian act? Of course she can’t.’
But that was almost the least of this drama's problems. The subject of a exceedingly uncommon no-star review, it was difficult to know where to start listing the problems. The laughably leaden writing? The tedious veneration of wealth and consumption? The almost deliberate procession of tropes? Acting so poor they felt borderline spiteful? Let’s just say “all of the above” and never speak of this show again. However, a second season has been commissioned, so we’re likely going to have to.
Given the legal troubles, domestic violence allegations and fatherly shortcomings, it’s reasonable to say Charlie Sheen has been a bad boy. Not you’d truly have gleaned it from this multi-part docuseries which chuckled along at Sheen’s various bouts of reckless excess while struggling to tell us a single thing we didn’t already know. Instead, it felt as if this volatile personality was being pandered to, so any pity this series might induce should be saved for the people who have had to endure proximity with this charming but dismissive narcissist.
Of course we understood it was preposterous from the outset: a thriller about a supercomputer known as Charlie Big Potatoes that could either save the world – or destroy all of humanity. We stuck with it out of sheer love for its leads … but by the end, it felt like even they had given up trying. One scarcely reacted when his character died, and the other ended up hacking Charlie with an axe … in painfully slow-motion. Talk about giving up the ghost.
Shady figures convening in deserted boxing gyms? The Prodigy’s Firestarter jackhammering away in club scenes? The late 90s called and wants its gangland drama back.
Actually, that is harsh on the gangland dramas of the late 90s. Many look a bit old-fashioned now, but at least they didn’t suffer the embarrassment of having to accommodate unconvincing dialects. But there were many other issues. Primarily that it was just really dull; a conflict over drug-selling territory between various cockney picaresques which seemed a bit basic.
Considering the degree to which she grinds the gears of the nation’s performatively angry commentators, it’s temptingly easy to applaud the Duchess of Sussex’s televised ventures into quaint lifestyle as deliberate statements. But then you watch them and are forced to concede that in this case, they may have a point. It’s like watching a homeware catalogue animated; a meme for evening drinks with ideas of grandeur; a procession of snoozing dogs, humming beehives, sentimental sayings and pointless crafting “hacks” you’ll not remember instantly. All supported by vast, largely undeserved wealth. Ugh.
There are clearly fascinating things to be discussed about both Victoria Beckham and her struggles with career, self-image, self-acceptance. But for some reason, this three-part series chose not to explore them. Rather, the viewing was like reading a sales brochure. She clearly has good reason to bridle at what she describes as her “miserable cow” image. But sadly, she didn’t do herself any favours with this guarded letdown of a series.
It should have been the next big hit – except even camper, with a glamorous star as a deceased benefactor and a well-known personality managing her estate. What more could you ask for? As contestants battled it out, there was plenty of betrayal and arguing. But the rules quickly became bewildering: it’s still too confusing to detail what exactly was happening. Even more disappointingly, we only saw brief appearances of the star via prerecorded videos. The series ended up smelling of a programme that was straining desperately to emulate something far greater than it.
How do you follow a show that captured a generation? The pressure was enormous for this starry romcom about Jessica, a hopeful New Yorker who arrives in London with a broken heart. The lead actress took her biggest role by the horns and was a delight to watch, reveling in Austen levels of romantic notions. But it was all very slick and, paradoxically, was not enough. Plus, the abundance of famous friends involved felt icky.
Not even good enough to be ‘patchy’.
Given the shrewd recruitment of gifted younger comics, expectations were high. But unhappily, most of it didn’t land. A particular sketch was a single joke milked to a dry pulp but recurring in every episode. One star seemed too willing to slip into a familiar irate mode. The behind-the-scenes sketches, in contrast, simply provoked the idea that they should probably have stayed in there a bit longer.
This dramatisation of the story of Amanda Knox was overseen by Amanda Knox and pretty much solely showcased the perspective of Amanda Knox. So, while there probably is an interesting drama to be made about the horrific 2007 murder, this isn’t it. The subject matter needed to be treated sensitively. Instead, the series laboured awkwardly to find the right voice, lurching from strangely jaunty, slightly mannered farce to ultimately, real-life horror. Twisted? Perhaps. A total mess? Very much so.
We love the lead actor … but did we buy him playing the most brilliant maths genius in history, a man so smart he’s on the verge of a discovery that could destabilise society? No! This international thriller about secret services targeting – and killing off – intellectuals honestly got more farcical by the second. Silliness-by-numbers.
This hagiography followed the content creator renowned for explicit escapades as she prepared for her most extreme challenge yet. What on earth would possess her? What we craved was way more interrogation of her true psychology, plus those of the men in the queue. They could at least have interviewed the legendary mum who appeared to drag her son away from the queue. What we got was horrific imagery and zero interrogation of her infamy whatsoever. It's staggering to consider, the documentary-maker has a teenage daughter too.
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