As we consider the television landscape of the recent year, a selection of shows stand out not for their excellence, but for their notable failures. Ranging 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 divisive follow-up? Plagued with dreadful writing, cringe-inducing character development (justice for Miranda!), and a mere 71 seconds of beloved Samantha, the show struggled to find its footing. Briefly, as the final season started, it seemed as if it had at last hit its stride. Then came an episode centered on Seemaâs natural deodorant. No wonder the creator announced this would be the last series. It concluded on a bum note; the lingering shot of Mirandaâs toilet flooded with poo was simply too symbolic. Yet, viewers undeniably had a hoot dissecting every single âwtf?â moment. And as Carrie â a single woman once more â twirled around her palatial townhouse to Barry White, who couldn't release a little sob?
âCan Kim Kardashian act? Of course she canât.â
But that was practically the smallest of this drama's problems. The recipient of a very rare no-star review, it was hard to know where to start listing the problems. The laughably wooden writing? The mind-numbing veneration of wealth and materialism? The seemingly wilful parade of tropes? Acting so poor they felt almost malicious? Suffice it to say âall of the aboveâ and never speak of this series again. However, a new season has been commissioned, so weâre likely going to have to.
Given the restraining orders, abuse claims and fatherly failures, itâs fair to say Charlie Sheen has been a troubled figure. Not that youâd really have known it from this three-part docuseries which smirked its way at Sheenâs various bouts of self-destructive excess while failing to tell us a single thing we weren't already aware of. Instead, it felt as if this loose cannon was being indulged, so any sympathy this series might induce should be reserved for the people who have had to endure close contact with this charming but dismissive egotist.
Naturally we understood it was preposterous from the outset: a thriller about a AI known as Charlie Big Potatoes that could either save the world â 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 super slow-motion. That's what you call admitting defeat.
Shady characters meeting in empty boxing gyms? A certain band's Firestarter blaring in club scenes? The late 90s called and demands its crime drama back.
Actually, that is unfair on the crime shows of the late 90s. Many look a little dated now, but at least they didnât endure the ignominy of having to accommodate baffling accents. But there were many other issues. Primarily that it was just really boring; a conflict over drug-selling territory between various cockney rogues which seemed a bit basic.
Considering the extent to which she grinds the gears of the nationâs ostentatiously angry commentators, itâs temptingly tempting to admire the Duchess of Sussexâs various ventures into quaint homemaking as deliberate statements. But then you view them and are compelled to admit that actually, they might have a point. Itâs like watching a lifestyle magazine come to life; a poster for wine oâclock with delusions of grandeur; a parade of snoozing dogs, buzzing beehives, sentimental sayings and pointless crafting âtipsâ youâll forget instantly. All underpinned by vast, mostly unearned wealth. Ugh.
There are obviously interesting things to be discussed about both Victoria Beckham and her struggles with vocation, identity, self-worth. But for some reason, this three-part series opted not to explore them. Instead, the experience was like reading a marketing brochure. She clearly has every right to bridle at what she describes as her âmiserable cowâ image. But sadly, she failed to do herself any favours with this guarded non-event of a series.
It should have been the next big hit â except even more extravagant, with a famous 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 backstabbing and squabbling. But the rules quickly became incomprehensible: itâs even now too complicated to explain what precisely was happening. Even more disappointingly, we only saw brief appearances of the star via prerecorded videos. The series ended up reeking of a production that was trying way too hard to emulate something way beyond it.
How do you succeed a show that captured a generation? The pressure was immense for this glitzy romantic comedy about Jessica, a rosy-eyed New Yorker who arrives in London with a broken heart. The star seized the opportunity by the horns and was joyous to watch, embodying Austen levels of romantic notions. But it was all very glossy and, ironically, was not enough. Plus, the sheer amount of famous friends involved felt icky.
Not even good enough to be âunevenâ.
Given the smart recruitment of talented emerging comics, hopes were high. But unhappily, most of it fell flat. A particular sketch was a single joke milked to a dry pulp but recurring in every episode. One star seemed too ready to slip into a familiar irate mode. The behind-the-scenes sketches, meanwhile, simply inspired the thought that they should probably have stayed in there a while longer.
This dramatisation of the story of Amanda Knox was overseen by Amanda Knox and pretty much exclusively showcased the viewpoint of Amanda Knox. So, while there probably is an compelling drama to be made about the tragic 2007 murder, this isnât it. The material needed to be treated with care. Rather, the series laboured awkwardly to find the right tone, lumbering from strangely breezy, somewhat stylised farce to ultimately, real-life horror. Complex? Perhaps. A complete mess? Very much so.
We love the star ⊠but did we believe 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 globe-trotting thriller about secret services targeting â and killing off â academics honestly got more farcical by the second. Silliness-by-numbers.
This uncritical portrait followed the online personality notorious for explicit exploits as she prepared for her biggest challenge 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 legendary mum who showed up to drag her son out of the queue. What we got was disturbing imagery and absolutely no critical analysis of her notoriety whatsoever. It's staggering to consider, the documentary-maker has a young daughter too.
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