As we consider the TV offerings of the recent year, a selection of shows stand out not for their brilliance, but for their notable shortcomings. Ranging from awkward spin-offs to confusingly bad documentaries, here are the programmes that had us scratching our heads or simply reaching for the remote.
Where to begin with this love/hate spin-off? Plagued with woeful writing, painful arcs (we demand better for Miranda!), and a mere 71 seconds of fan-favourite Samantha, the series fought to find its footing. For a moment, as the third season started, it seemed as if it had at last found its groove. Then arrived an episode all about Seemaâs natural deodorant. Little surprise the showrunner declared this would be the final season. It concluded on a bum note; the lingering shot of Mirandaâs loo full of poo was just way too symbolic. Yet, fans certainly found joy dissecting every single âwhat on earth?â episode. And as Carrie â once again single â danced around her sprawling townhouse to Barry White, who couldn't release a little sob?
âIs Kim Kardashian an actress? Of course she canât.â
But that was practically the smallest of this show's problems. The subject of a exceedingly uncommon zero star assessment, it was hard to know where to begin listing the flaws. The laughably leaden dialogue? The tedious veneration of affluence and materialism? The almost deliberate procession of tropes? Performances so poor they felt borderline spiteful? Suffice it to say âeach and every oneâ 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, domestic violence allegations and fatherly shortcomings, itâs reasonable to say Charlie Sheen has been a troubled figure. Not youâd really have gleaned it from this three-part docuseries which chuckled along at Sheenâs various bouts of self-destructive hedonism while struggling to tell us a single thing we weren't already aware of. Rather, it felt as if this loose cannon was being pandered to, so any sympathy this series might evoke should be reserved for the people who have had to suffer proximity with this charming but dismissive narcissist.
Naturally we knew it was ridiculous from the get-go: a thriller about a AI known as Charlie Big Potatoes that could either solve global crises â or annihilate all of humanity. We stuck with it out of pure admiration 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 slicing Charlie with an axe ⊠in painfully slow-motion. That's what you call giving up the ghost.
Dodgy figures meeting in empty boxing gyms? A certain band's Firestarter jackhammering away in club scenes? The late 90s called and wants its gangland drama back.
Actually, that is harsh on the crime shows of the late 90s. Many seem a little old-fashioned now, but at least they didnât suffer the embarrassment of having to indulge unconvincing dialects. But there were plenty of other problems. Mainly that it was just profoundly dull; a dispute over narcotics territory between various cockney rogues which seemed rather simplistic.
Given the degree to which she grinds the gears of certain performatively enraged commentators, itâs almost tempting to admire the Duchess of Sussexâs televised forays into twee lifestyle as intentional statements. But then you watch them and are forced to concede that actually, they may have a point. Itâs like watching a homeware magazine come to life; a meme for evening drinks with ideas of grandeur; a procession of snoozing dogs, humming beehives, Hallmark platitudes and pointless crafting âtipsâ youâll forget instantly. All underpinned by immense, largely unearned wealth. Ugh.
There are clearly fascinating things to be said about regarding Victoria Beckham and her struggles with vocation, identity, self-acceptance. But for whatever reason, this three-part series chose not to say them. Instead, the viewing was like consuming a marketing catalogue. She clearly has good reason to bridle at what she describes as her âmiserable cowâ image. But unfortunately, she failed to do herself any helps with this cagey non-event of a series.
It should have been the next big hit â except even camper, with a glamorous star playing dead and a well-known personality managing her estate. What more could you want? As players battled it out, there was plenty of betrayal and arguing. But the rules quickly became incomprehensible: itâs still too complicated to explain what precisely was happening. Even more disappointingly, we only saw glimpses of the star via filmed videos. The series ended up reeking of a programme that was trying way too hard to emulate something far greater than it.
How does one succeed a show that captured a generation? The pressure was immense for this glitzy romcom about Jessica, a hopeful New Yorker who arrives in London with a broken heart. The lead actress seized the opportunity by the horns and was a delight to watch, reveling in Jane Austen levels of romantic notions. But it was all very glossy and, ironically, was insufficient. Plus, the sheer amount of celebrity friends involved felt uncomfortable.
Not even good enough to be âunevenâ.
Given the smart recruitment of talented emerging comics, expectations were high. But sadly, most of it didnât land. A recurring sketch was a single joke milked to a dry pulp but recurring in every episode. One star seemed too willing to slip into a familiar irate mode. The behind-the-scenes sketches, meanwhile, simply provoked the idea that they should probably have remained in there a bit longer.
This dramatisation of the story of Amanda Knox was executive produced by Amanda Knox and pretty much solely presented the perspective of Amanda Knox. So, while there probably is an compelling drama to be made about the tragic 2007 murder, this isnât it. The subject matter needed to be handled sensitively. Instead, the series struggled painfully to find the right voice, lurching from strangely jaunty, somewhat stylised farce to ultimately, real-life horror. Complex? Arguably. A complete mess? Very much so.
We love the star ⊠but did we buy him playing the greatest maths genius in history, a man so smart heâs on the verge of a breakthrough that could destabilise society? No! This international thriller about secret services targeting â and killing off â academics honestly got more absurd by the second. Formulaic nonsense.
This uncritical portrait followed the online personality notorious for sexual escapades as she prepared for her most extreme challenge yet. What on earth would motivate her? What we craved was far greater interrogation of her actual psychology, plus those of the men in the line. They could at least have spoken to the legendary mum who appeared to haul her son away from 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.
Elara is a passionate writer and photographer who shares insights on creativity and mindful living through engaging storytelling.
