As we consider the television offerings of the recent year, a handful of series stand out not for their excellence, but for their notable shortcomings. From awkward sequels to bafflingly poor documentaries, here are the programmes that left us utterly bewildered or simply reaching for the remote.
How to start with this love/hate follow-up? Burdened with woeful writing, cringe-inducing arcs (justice for Miranda!), and a paltry 71 seconds of fan-favourite Samantha, the series struggled to justify its existence. Briefly, as the third season began, it seemed as if it had finally hit its stride. Then arrived an installment all about Seemaâs natural deodorant. Little surprise the showrunner declared this would be the final season. It concluded on a low point; the closeup of Mirandaâs loo full of poo was just way too symbolic. Still, viewers certainly had a hoot dissecting every single âwhat on earth?â moment. And as Carrie â a single woman once more â twirled around her palatial townhouse to Barry White, who didnât let out a small sob?
âIs Kim Kardashian an actress? The answer is a resounding no.â
But that was practically the least of this drama's issues. The recipient of a exceedingly uncommon no-star review, it was difficult to know where to start listing the flaws. The laughably wooden dialogue? The mind-numbing glorification of wealth and materialism? The almost wilful parade of cliches? Performances so poor they felt borderline malicious? Suffice it to say âall of the aboveâ and never speak of this show again. Except, a second season has been commissioned, so weâre likely going to have to.
Considering the restraining orders, abuse claims and parental failures, itâs fair to say Charlie Sheen has been a bad boy. Not youâd truly have gleaned it from this multi-part documentary which smirked its way at Sheenâs various episodes of self-destructive hedonism while failing to tell us anything we didnât already know. Instead, it felt as if this volatile personality was being pandered to, so any sympathy this series might evoke should be saved for the people who have had to endure proximity with this charismatic but flippant narcissist.
Naturally we knew it was ridiculous from the get-go: a thriller about a supercomputer known as Charlie Big Potatoes that could either solve global crises â or annihilate all of humanity. We stuck with it out of sheer love for its stars ⊠but by the end, it felt like even they had stopped bothering. One scarcely reacted 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? The Prodigyâs Firestarter jackhammering away in club scenes? The late 90s called and wants its gangland drama back.
In truth, that is harsh on the gangland dramas of the late 90s. Many seem a little dated now, but at least they didnât suffer the embarrassment of having to accommodate unconvincing dialects. But there were many other problems. Mainly that it was just really boring; a dispute over narcotics territory between various London rogues which felt rather simplistic.
Given the extent to which she grinds the gears of the nationâs ostentatiously enraged commentators, itâs temptingly easy to admire the Duchess of Sussexâs various forays into quaint lifestyle as intentional statements. But then you view them and are forced to concede that in this case, they may have a point. Itâs like watching a lifestyle catalogue come to life; a poster for wine oâclock with ideas of grandeur; a procession of sleeping dogs, humming beehives, Hallmark platitudes and forgettable crafting âtipsâ youâll not remember instantly. All underpinned by immense, largely undeserved wealth. Ugh.
There are clearly interesting things to be said about both Victoria Beckham and her struggles with career, identity, self-worth. But for some reason, this documentary series chose not to say them. Instead, the viewing was akin to consuming a sales catalogue. She obviously has good reason to resent what she describes as her âsternâ image. But sadly, she failed to do herself any helps with this guarded letdown of a series.
It should have been the next big hit â except even more extravagant, with a glamorous star playing dead and a well-known personality managing her inheritance. What more could you want? As contestants competed, there was plenty of backstabbing and arguing. But the rules quickly became incomprehensible: itâs still too complicated to detail what precisely was happening. Even more regrettably, we only saw brief appearances of the star via filmed videos. The show ended up smelling of a programme that was straining desperately to live up to something way beyond it.
How do you follow a show that captured a generation? The expectation was enormous for this glitzy romcom about Jessica, a hopeful New Yorker who arrives in London with a shattered romance. The star seized the opportunity by the horns and was a delight to watch, reveling in Austen levels of romantic ideals. But it was all very slick and, paradoxically, was not enough. Plus, the abundance of famous friends involved felt uncomfortable.
Not good enough to be âunevenâ.
Given the shrewd recruitment of gifted younger comics, hopes were high. But sadly, most of it fell flat. A particular sketch was a single joke stretched to a dry pulp but repeated in every episode. One star seemed too ready to slip into a familiar ranting mode. The writing room sketches, in contrast, simply provoked the thought that they should probably have remained in there a bit longer.
This retelling of the story of Amanda Knox was overseen by Amanda Knox and pretty much exclusively presented the perspective of Amanda Knox. So, while there undoubtedly is an interesting drama to be made about the tragic 2007 murder, this isnât it. The material needed to be treated with care. Instead, the series struggled painfully to find the right tone, lumbering from oddly jaunty, somewhat mannered farce to inevitably, real-life horror. Twisted? Perhaps. A complete mess? Absolutely.
We love the star ⊠but did we buy him playing the greatest maths genius in history, a man so intelligent heâs on the brink of a breakthrough that could destabilise society? No! This globe-trotting thriller about secret services spying on â and eliminating â academics frankly got more farcical by the second. Formulaic nonsense.
This hagiography followed the content creator renowned for sexual exploits as she undertook her most extreme feat yet. What on earth would motivate her? What we wanted was way more examination 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 out of the queue. What we got was disturbing imagery and zero interrogation of her notoriety whatsoever. It's staggering to consider, the filmmaker has a teenage daughter too.
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