As we consider the TV offerings of the past year, a selection of shows stand out not for their excellence, but for their spectacular shortcomings. From awkward spin-offs to bafflingly poor documentaries, here are the programmes that had us scratching our heads or just reaching for the remote.
Where to begin with this love/hate spin-off? Burdened with dreadful scripts, painful character development (we demand better for Miranda!), and a paltry 71 seconds of fan-favourite Samantha, the series fought to find its footing. Briefly, as the final season began, it looked like it had at last hit its stride. Then came an episode centered on Seema’s natural deodorant. No wonder the showrunner announced this would be the last season. It concluded on a bum note; the closeup of Miranda’s loo full of poo was simply too on-the-nose. Yet, fans certainly found joy picking apart every single “what on earth?” episode. And as Carrie – once again single – twirled around her sprawling townhouse to Barry White, who couldn't release a little sob?
‘Can Kim Kardashian act? The answer is a resounding no.’
But that was almost the least of this show's issues. The recipient of a exceedingly uncommon no-star review, it was difficult to know where to begin enumerating the problems. The hilariously leaden dialogue? The tedious glorification of affluence and consumption? The seemingly deliberate procession of tropes? Performances so bad they felt almost spiteful? Suffice it to say “each and every one” and never speak of this series again. However, a new season has been commissioned, so we’re probably going to have to.
Given the legal troubles, abuse allegations and parental failures, it’s fair to say Charlie Sheen has been a bad boy. Not you’d truly have gleaned it from this multi-part documentary which smirked its way at Sheen’s various bouts of self-destructive hedonism while struggling to tell us anything we weren't already aware of. Instead, it felt as if this volatile personality was being pandered to, so any sympathy this show might induce should be saved for the people who have had to suffer proximity with this charismatic but dismissive narcissist.
Of course we understood it was preposterous from the get-go: a thriller about a AI known as Charlie Big Potatoes that could either solve global crises – or annihilate all of humanity. We stuck with it out of sheer admiration for its leads … but by the end, it felt like even they had stopped bothering. One scarcely cared when his character died, and the other ended up hacking Charlie with an axe … in super slow-motion. Talk about admitting defeat.
Shady characters convening in deserted boxing gyms? A certain band's Firestarter jackhammering away in club scenes? The late 90s called and wants its gangland drama back.
In truth, that is unfair on the crime shows of the late 90s. Many seem a bit dated now, but at least they didn’t suffer the ignominy of having to accommodate baffling dialects. But there were plenty of other issues. Primarily that it was just profoundly dull; a dispute over narcotics territory between various cockney picaresques which felt rather simplistic.
Given the degree to which she grinds the gears of the nation’s performatively enraged commentators, it’s temptingly easy to applaud the Duchess of Sussex’s televised forays into quaint lifestyle as intentional provocations. But then you view them and are compelled to concede that in this case, they may have a point. It’s like watching a homeware catalogue come to life; a meme for wine o’clock with delusions of grandeur; a parade of snoozing dogs, buzzing beehives, Hallmark platitudes and pointless crafting “hacks” you’ll not remember instantly. All supported by vast, mostly unearned wealth. Ugh.
There are clearly interesting things to be discussed about regarding Victoria Beckham and her struggles with career, self-image, self-acceptance. But for some reason, this documentary series opted not to say them. Rather, the viewing was like reading a marketing catalogue. She obviously 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 cagey non-event of a series.
It had the potential to be the next big hit – except even more extravagant, with a glamorous star playing dead and a well-known personality managing her inheritance. What more could you ask for? As players competed, there was plenty of backstabbing and arguing. But the rules quickly became incomprehensible: it’s still too complicated to detail what precisely was happening. Even more regrettably, we only saw glimpses of the star via prerecorded videos. The show ended up reeking of a production that was trying way too hard to emulate something far greater than it.
How do you succeed a show that defined a generation? The pressure was immense for this glitzy romcom about Jessica, a hopeful New Yorker who lands in London with a broken heart. The star seized the opportunity by the horns and was joyous to watch, reveling in Austen levels of romantic ideals. But it was all very glossy and, ironically, was not enough. Plus, the sheer amount of famous friends involved felt uncomfortable.
Not good enough to be ‘patchy’.
Given the smart recruitment of talented emerging comics, expectations were high. But sadly, most of it didn’t land. A recurring sketch was a single joke milked to a dry pulp but repeated in every episode. One star seemed too willing to slip into a familiar irate mode. The behind-the-scenes sketches, meanwhile, simply provoked the thought that they should probably have remained in there a while longer.
This dramatisation of the story of Amanda Knox was overseen by Amanda Knox and pretty much exclusively showcased the perspective of Amanda Knox. So, while there undoubtedly is an compelling drama to be made about the horrific 2007 murder, this was not it. The subject matter needed to be treated sensitively. Rather, the series laboured awkwardly to find the right tone, lumbering from strangely breezy, slightly stylised farce to inevitably, real-life horror. Twisted? Arguably. A total mess? Absolutely.
We love the star … but did we buy him playing the most brilliant maths genius since, a man so smart he’s on the verge of a breakthrough that could ruin society? Nope! This international thriller about secret services spying on – and killing off – academics frankly got more absurd by the second. Formulaic nonsense.
This hagiography followed the online personality notorious for sexual escapades as she prepared for her most extreme feat yet. What on earth would motivate her? What we craved was way more examination of her true psyche, plus those of the men in the queue. They could at least have spoken to the now-famous mum who appeared to haul her son out of the queue. What we got was disturbing imagery and absolutely no interrogation of her infamy whatsoever. It's staggering to consider, the documentary-maker has a young daughter too.
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