Looking back, we reflect on the television landscape of the recent year, a selection of shows emerge not for their brilliance, but for their spectacular failures. Ranging from cringe-inducing sequels to bafflingly bad documentaries, here are the programmes that had us utterly bewildered or simply reaching for the remote.
Where to begin with this divisive spin-off? Burdened with dreadful writing, cringe-inducing arcs (we demand better for Miranda!), and a mere 71 seconds of beloved Samantha, the show struggled to find its footing. For a moment, as the third series began, it looked like it had finally found its groove. Then came an episode all about Seemaâs natural deodorant. Little surprise the creator declared this would be the final series. It concluded on a low point; the closeup of Mirandaâs toilet full of poo was simply too symbolic. Still, fans certainly had a hoot dissecting every single âwhat on earth?â moment. And as Carrie â a single woman once more â danced around her sprawling 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 smallest of this show's issues. The subject of a exceedingly uncommon no-star review, it was difficult to know where to start listing the problems. The hilariously leaden dialogue? The mind-numbing veneration of wealth and consumption? The seemingly wilful procession of cliches? Performances so bad they felt borderline malicious? Suffice it to say âeach and every oneâ and never speak of this show again. However, a new season has been commissioned, so weâre probably going to have to.
Given the legal troubles, abuse claims and fatherly shortcomings, itâs reasonable to say Charlie Sheen has been a bad boy. Not that youâd really have gleaned it from this multi-part documentary which smirked its way at Sheenâs various bouts of self-destructive hedonism while failing to tell us a single thing we weren't already aware of. Instead, it felt as if this volatile personality was being pandered to, so any pity this show might induce should be saved for the people who have had to endure proximity with this charming but dismissive egotist.
Of course we understood it was ridiculous from the outset: a drama about a supercomputer known as Charlie Big Potatoes that could either solve global crises â or annihilate all of humanity. We persevered out of sheer love for its stars ⊠but by the end, it felt like even they had given up trying. One barely cared when his character died, and the other ended up hacking Charlie with an axe ⊠in super slow-motion. Talk about admitting defeat.
Shady figures convening in deserted boxing gyms? The Prodigyâs Firestarter blaring in club scenes? The late 90s called and wants its crime drama back.
In truth, that is harsh on the crime shows of the late 90s. Many look a little dated now, but at least they didnât suffer the embarrassment of having to accommodate baffling dialects. 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 the nationâs performatively angry commentators, itâs temptingly tempting to applaud the Duchess of Sussexâs televised ventures into twee homemaking as intentional provocations. But then you watch them and are forced to concede that in this case, they might have a point. Itâs like watching a homeware magazine animated; a meme for wine oâclock with ideas of grandeur; a procession of snoozing dogs, buzzing beehives, sentimental platitudes and pointless crafting âtipsâ youâll not remember instantly. All underpinned by immense, largely unearned wealth. Ugh.
There are clearly fascinating things to be said about both Victoria Beckham and her struggles with career, identity, self-acceptance. But for whatever reason, this documentary series chose not to say them. Rather, the experience was like reading a sales catalogue. She clearly has good reason to bridle at what she describes as her âsternâ image. But unfortunately, she didnât do herself any favours with this guarded non-event of a series.
It had the potential to be the next big hit â except even more extravagant, with a glamorous star as a deceased benefactor and a well-known personality overseeing her estate. What more could you want? As players competed, there was plenty of backstabbing and arguing. But the rules quickly became bewildering: itâs still too complicated to explain what precisely was happening. Even more regrettably, we only saw brief appearances of the star via filmed videos. The series ended up smelling of a programme that was straining desperately to live up to something way beyond it.
How does one follow a show that defined a generation? The pressure was immense for this starry romcom about Jessica, a rosy-eyed New Yorker who lands in London with a broken heart. The star seized the opportunity by the horns and was a delight to watch, embodying Austen levels of romantic notions. But it was all very slick and, ironically, was not enough. Plus, the abundance of famous friends involved felt icky.
Not good enough to be âpatchyâ.
Given the shrewd recruitment of talented younger comics, hopes 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 willing to slip into a well-known ranting mode. The behind-the-scenes sketches, meanwhile, simply inspired the thought that they should probably have remained in there a while longer.
This dramatisation of the story of Amanda Knox was overseen by Amanda Knox and pretty much exclusively presented the viewpoint of Amanda Knox. So, while there probably is an interesting drama to be made about the horrific 2007 murder, this isnât it. The subject matter needed to be handled sensitively. Rather, the series struggled painfully to find the right tone, lumbering from oddly jaunty, slightly mannered farce to inevitably, real-life horror. Complex? Arguably. A complete mess? Absolutely.
We admire the star ⊠but did we buy him playing the most brilliant maths genius since, a man so intelligent heâs on the verge of a discovery that could destabilise society? Nope! This international thriller about government agencies spying on â and killing off â academics honestly got more absurd by the second. Formulaic nonsense.
This hagiography followed the content creator renowned for sexual exploits as she undertook her biggest challenge yet. What on earth would motivate her? What we wanted was far greater examination of her true psychology, plus those of the men in the line. They could at least have interviewed the legendary mum who showed up to haul her son out of the queue. What we got was horrific imagery and zero interrogation of her notoriety whatsoever. It's staggering to consider, the filmmaker has a teenage daughter too.
Tech enthusiast and design thinker exploring the intersection of innovation and aesthetics.