As we reflect on the TV landscape of the past year, a selection of series emerge not for their brilliance, but for their spectacular shortcomings. From cringe-inducing sequels to bafflingly poor docuseries, here are the productions that had us utterly bewildered or just reaching for the remote.
Where to begin with this divisive spin-off? Burdened with dreadful writing, painful arcs (we demand better for Miranda!), and a mere 71 seconds of fan-favourite Samantha, the series fought to justify its existence. For a moment, as the third series started, it looked like it had at last hit its stride. Then came an installment centered on Seema’s natural deodorant. Little surprise 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 symbolic. Yet, fans undeniably found joy dissecting every single “wtf?” episode. And as Carrie – once again single – danced around her sprawling townhouse to Barry White, who couldn't let out a small sob?
‘Can Kim Kardashian act? Of course she can’t.’
But that was almost the smallest of this show's issues. The subject of a exceedingly uncommon no-star assessment, it was difficult to know where to start enumerating the problems. The hilariously leaden writing? The mind-numbing veneration of affluence and materialism? The almost wilful parade of tropes? Performances so poor they felt borderline spiteful? Suffice it to say “each and every one” and never speak of this series again. However, a second season has been commissioned, so we’re likely going to have to.
Given the restraining orders, abuse claims and parental shortcomings, it’s fair to say Charlie Sheen has been a bad boy. Not you’d truly have gleaned it from this three-part documentary which chuckled along at Sheen’s various episodes of self-destructive hedonism while struggling to tell us anything we didn’t already know. Instead, it felt as if this loose cannon was being pandered to, so any pity this show might induce should be reserved for the people who have had to suffer proximity with this charismatic but dismissive egotist.
Of course we understood it was ridiculous 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 persevered out of sheer love for its stars … but by the end, it felt like even they had stopped bothering. One barely reacted when his character died, and the other ultimately hacking Charlie with an axe … in painfully slow-motion. That's what you call admitting defeat.
Shady characters meeting in empty boxing gyms? The Prodigy’s Firestarter jackhammering away in club scenes? The late 90s called and wants its crime 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 embarrassment of having to accommodate baffling accents. But there were many other issues. Mainly that it was just really dull; a dispute over drug-selling territory between various London picaresques which seemed a bit basic.
Considering the extent to which she provokes the ire of certain performatively enraged commentators, it’s temptingly tempting to applaud the Duchess of Sussex’s various forays into twee homemaking as deliberate statements. But then you view them and are compelled to admit that actually, they may have a point. It’s like watching a homeware catalogue animated; a poster for evening drinks with ideas of grandeur; a procession of snoozing dogs, buzzing beehives, Hallmark sayings and forgettable crafting “hacks” you’ll forget instantly. All supported by immense, largely unearned wealth. Ugh.
There are clearly interesting things to be said about regarding Victoria Beckham and her struggles with career, identity, self-worth. But for whatever reason, this documentary series chose not to explore them. Instead, the experience was akin to consuming a sales catalogue. She obviously has good reason to resent what she describes as her “miserable cow” image. But unfortunately, she didn’t do herself any favours with this guarded letdown of a series.
It had the potential to be the next cultural phenomenon – except even camper, with a glamorous star as a deceased benefactor and a sharp-tongued personality managing her estate. What more could you ask for? As players battled it out, there was plenty of backstabbing and arguing. But the rules quickly became bewildering: it’s still too complicated to detail what precisely was happening. Even more regrettably, we only saw brief appearances of the star via prerecorded videos. The series ended up smelling of a production that was straining desperately to live up to something far greater than it.
How do you follow a show that captured a generation? The pressure was immense for this starry romantic comedy about Jessica, a hopeful New Yorker who lands in London with a shattered romance. The lead actress took her biggest role by the horns and was a delight to watch, embodying Jane Austen levels of romantic ideals. But it was all very glossy and, paradoxically, was insufficient. Plus, the abundance of celebrity friends involved felt icky.
Not even good enough to be ‘patchy’.
Given the shrewd inclusion of talented younger comics, hopes were high. But sadly, most of it didn’t land. A particular sketch was a one-note joke milked to a husk but recurring in every episode. One star seemed too willing to slip into a familiar irate mode. The writing room sketches, meanwhile, simply inspired the thought that they should probably have stayed in there a bit longer.
This dramatisation of the story of Amanda Knox was executive produced by Amanda Knox and pretty much solely showcased the perspective of Amanda Knox. So, while there undoubtedly is an compelling drama to be made about the tragic 2007 murder, this isn’t it. The material needed to be treated with care. Instead, the series laboured awkwardly to find the right voice, lumbering from strangely jaunty, somewhat 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 smart he’s on the brink of a discovery that could ruin society? No! This international thriller about government agencies spying on – and killing off – intellectuals frankly got more farcical by the second. Formulaic nonsense.
This hagiography followed the content creator notorious for explicit exploits as she undertook her most extreme feat yet. What on earth would motivate her? What we craved was way more interrogation 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 out of the queue. What we got was horrific imagery and absolutely no interrogation of her infamy whatsoever. It's staggering to consider, the documentary-maker has a young daughter too.
A tech journalist and software developer with over a decade of experience covering AI advancements and cybersecurity trends across Europe.
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