Looking back, we consider the television landscape of the past year, a selection of series stand out not for their brilliance, but for their notable shortcomings. Ranging from cringe-inducing sequels to bafflingly poor documentaries, here are the productions that had us utterly bewildered or simply reaching for the remote.
How to start with this divisive follow-up? Plagued with dreadful writing, painful arcs (justice for Miranda!), and a paltry 71 seconds of fan-favourite Samantha, the show struggled to justify its existence. For a moment, as the third series began, it seemed as if it had at last found its groove. Then came an installment all about Seema’s natural deodorant. Little surprise the showrunner declared this would be the last series. It ended on a bum note; the closeup of Miranda’s toilet flooded with poo was just way too on-the-nose. Still, viewers certainly found joy picking apart every single “what on earth?” moment. And as Carrie – a single woman once more – twirled around her palatial 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 smallest of this show's problems. The recipient of a very rare no-star review, it was hard to know where to start enumerating the problems. The hilariously wooden dialogue? The tedious glorification of affluence and materialism? The seemingly deliberate parade of tropes? Performances so poor they felt borderline malicious? Let’s just say “all of the above” and forget about this show again. However, a second season has been ordered, so we’re likely going to have to.
Considering the restraining orders, abuse claims and fatherly shortcomings, it’s fair to say Charlie Sheen has been a bad boy. Not that you’d truly have known it from this three-part documentary which smirked its way at Sheen’s various episodes of reckless hedonism while struggling to tell us anything we didn’t already know. Rather, it felt as if this volatile personality was being indulged, so any pity this series might induce should be saved for the people who have had to suffer proximity with this charming but dismissive narcissist.
Naturally we knew it was preposterous from the get-go: a thriller about a supercomputer known as Charlie Big Potatoes that could either save the world – or annihilate all of humanity. We persevered out of pure admiration for its stars … but by the end, it felt like even they had stopped bothering. One barely cared when his character died, and the other ultimately hacking Charlie with an axe … in painfully slow-motion. That's what you call admitting defeat.
Dodgy figures convening in deserted boxing gyms? The Prodigy’s Firestarter blaring in club scenes? The late 90s called and demands its crime drama back.
Actually, that is unfair on the gangland dramas of the late 90s. Many look a bit old-fashioned now, but at least they didn’t endure the ignominy of having to indulge unconvincing dialects. But there were many other problems. Mainly that it was just really boring; a conflict over narcotics territory between various cockney rogues which seemed rather simplistic.
Considering the extent to which she provokes the ire of certain performatively angry commentators, it’s temptingly tempting to admire the Duchess of Sussex’s various forays into quaint homemaking as deliberate provocations. But then you view them and are forced to admit that actually, they might have a point. It’s like watching a homeware magazine come to life; a poster for evening drinks with ideas of grandeur; a procession of sleeping dogs, humming beehives, Hallmark sayings and forgettable crafting “hacks” you’ll forget instantly. All supported by vast, largely unearned wealth. Ugh.
There are clearly fascinating things to be said about regarding Victoria Beckham and her journey with vocation, identity, self-acceptance. But for whatever reason, this three-part series opted not to explore them. Instead, the experience was akin to consuming a marketing catalogue. She obviously has every right to bridle at what she describes as her “stern” image. But unfortunately, she failed to do herself any helps with this guarded letdown of a series.
It had the potential to be the next big hit – except even camper, with a famous star as a deceased benefactor and a well-known personality overseeing her inheritance. What more could you ask for? As contestants competed, there was plenty of betrayal and squabbling. But the rules quickly became bewildering: it’s even now too confusing to explain what exactly was happening. Even more disappointingly, we only saw brief appearances of the star via prerecorded videos. The show ended up reeking of a programme that was trying way too hard to emulate something way beyond it.
How does one succeed a show that defined a generation? The pressure was enormous for this glitzy romcom about Jessica, a rosy-eyed New Yorker who arrives in London with a broken heart. The star seized the opportunity by the horns and was a delight to watch, embodying Jane Austen levels of romantic notions. But it was all very slick and, paradoxically, was not enough. Plus, the sheer amount of famous cameos involved felt icky.
Not even good enough to be ‘patchy’.
Given the smart inclusion of gifted emerging comics, hopes were high. But unhappily, most of it didn’t land. A particular sketch was a one-note joke milked to a dry pulp but recurring in every episode. One star seemed too willing to slip into a well-known irate mode. The writing room sketches, meanwhile, simply provoked the idea that they should probably have stayed in there a bit longer.
This retelling of the story of Amanda Knox was overseen by Amanda Knox and pretty much exclusively showcased the perspective of Amanda Knox. So, while there probably is an compelling drama to be made about the horrific 2007 murder, this isn’t it. The material needed to be treated sensitively. Rather, the series struggled painfully to find the right tone, lumbering from oddly breezy, slightly stylised farce to inevitably, real-life horror. Twisted? Perhaps. A complete mess? Absolutely.
We love the star … but did we buy him playing the most brilliant maths genius in history, a man so intelligent he’s on the brink of a discovery that could destabilise society? No! This globe-trotting thriller about secret services spying on – and eliminating – academics frankly got more absurd by the second. Silliness-by-numbers.
This hagiography followed the online personality renowned for sexual escapades as she undertook her most extreme challenge yet. What on earth would motivate her? What we craved was far greater examination of her true psyche, plus those of the men in the queue. They could at least have spoken to the legendary mum who showed up to haul her son away from the queue. What we got was horrific shots and zero interrogation of her infamy whatsoever. It's staggering to consider, the filmmaker has a young daughter too.
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