As we consider the television offerings of the past year, a handful of shows stand out not for their excellence, but for their spectacular shortcomings. Ranging from cringe-inducing sequels to bafflingly bad docuseries, here are the programmes that had us utterly bewildered or just reaching for the remote.
Where to begin with this love/hate spin-off? Plagued with woeful writing, cringe-inducing character development (we demand better for Miranda!), and a mere 71 seconds of beloved Samantha, the series fought to justify its existence. For a moment, as the final season began, it looked like it had finally found its groove. Then came an episode centered on Seemaâs natural deodorant. No wonder the creator announced this would be the last season. It concluded on a low point; the lingering shot of Mirandaâs toilet flooded with poo was simply too on-the-nose. Still, fans certainly had a hoot picking apart every single âwtf?â episode. And as Carrie â a single woman once more â danced around her sprawling townhouse to Barry White, who didnât let out a little sob?
âIs Kim Kardashian an actress? Of course she canât.â
But that was practically the least of this show's problems. The recipient of a exceedingly uncommon zero star assessment, it was hard to know where to start enumerating the problems. The hilariously leaden writing? The mind-numbing glorification of affluence and materialism? The almost wilful parade of tropes? Acting so poor they felt almost malicious? Suffice it to say âeach and every oneâ and forget about this show again. Except, a second season has been commissioned, so weâre probably going to have to.
Considering the legal troubles, abuse allegations and parental failures, itâs reasonable to say Charlie Sheen has been a troubled figure. Not that youâd truly have gleaned it from this three-part docuseries which chuckled along at Sheenâs various bouts of reckless hedonism while failing to tell us a single thing we didnât already know. Instead, it felt as if this loose cannon was being indulged, so any pity this show might evoke should be saved for the people who have had to suffer proximity with this charismatic but dismissive egotist.
Naturally we knew it was ridiculous from the outset: a thriller about a supercomputer known as Charlie Big Potatoes that could either solve global crises â 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 super slow-motion. Talk about admitting defeat.
Shady characters convening in deserted boxing gyms? The Prodigyâs Firestarter blaring in club scenes? The late 90s called and demands its crime 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 indulge baffling dialects. But there were many other issues. Mainly that it was just really dull; a conflict over narcotics territory between various London picaresques which felt rather simplistic.
Given the extent to which she provokes the ire of certain performatively angry commentators, itâs temptingly easy to admire the Duchess of Sussexâs televised forays into quaint lifestyle as deliberate provocations. But then you view them and are forced to admit that in this case, they might have a point. Itâs like watching a homeware magazine animated; a poster for evening drinks with delusions of grandeur; a parade of sleeping dogs, humming beehives, sentimental platitudes and pointless crafting âtipsâ youâll forget instantly. All supported by vast, mostly unearned wealth. Ugh.
There are clearly fascinating things to be discussed about both Victoria Beckham and her journey with career, identity, self-worth. But for whatever reason, this documentary series opted not to say them. Instead, the experience was akin to consuming a marketing catalogue. She obviously has good reason to resent what she describes as her âsternâ image. But sadly, she didnât do herself any favours with this guarded letdown of a series.
It should have been the next big hit â except even more extravagant, with a famous star as a deceased benefactor and a well-known personality managing her estate. What more could you want? As players competed, there was plenty of backstabbing and squabbling. But the rules quickly became bewildering: itâs even now too complicated 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 trying way too hard to emulate something way beyond it.
How does one succeed a show that captured a generation? The expectation was enormous for this glitzy romantic comedy about Jessica, a hopeful New Yorker who arrives in London with a broken heart. The star seized the opportunity by the horns and was a delight to watch, reveling in Jane Austen levels of romantic ideals. But it was all very slick and, ironically, was not enough. Plus, the abundance of famous friends involved felt icky.
Not even good enough to be âunevenâ.
Given the shrewd recruitment of gifted emerging comics, expectations were high. But unhappily, most of it didnât land. A particular sketch was a one-note joke milked to a husk but recurring in every episode. One star seemed too ready to slip into a familiar ranting mode. The behind-the-scenes sketches, meanwhile, simply provoked the idea that they should probably have stayed in there a while longer.
This retelling of the story of Amanda Knox was executive produced by Amanda Knox and pretty much exclusively showcased the viewpoint of Amanda Knox. So, while there probably is an interesting drama to be made about the tragic 2007 murder, this isnât it. The subject matter needed to be treated with care. Rather, the series laboured awkwardly to find the right tone, lurching from oddly jaunty, slightly mannered farce to ultimately, real-life horror. Complex? Perhaps. A complete mess? Absolutely.
We love the star ⊠but did we buy him playing the greatest maths genius since, a man so smart heâs on the verge of a discovery that could destabilise society? Nope! This international thriller about government agencies targeting â and eliminating â intellectuals 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 feat yet. What on earth would possess her? What we craved was way more examination of her true psyche, plus those of the men in the line. They could at least have interviewed the now-famous mum who appeared to haul her son out of the queue. What we got was horrific shots and zero critical analysis of her notoriety whatsoever. It's staggering to consider, the filmmaker has a teenage daughter too.