As we consider the television landscape of the recent year, a selection of series stand out not for their brilliance, but for their spectacular failures. From awkward spin-offs to confusingly bad documentaries, here are the programmes that left us scratching our heads or simply reaching for the remote.
Where to begin with this love/hate spin-off? Burdened with dreadful writing, painful arcs (justice for Miranda!), and a paltry 71 seconds of beloved Samantha, the series fought to find its footing. Briefly, as the third series started, it looked like it had finally hit its stride. Then arrived an installment all about Seema’s natural deodorant. No wonder the showrunner announced this would be the last season. It concluded on a bum note; the closeup of Miranda’s loo flooded with poo was simply too on-the-nose. Still, fans undeniably found joy dissecting every single “wtf?” moment. And as Carrie – once again single – danced around her sprawling townhouse to Barry White, who couldn't release a little sob?
‘Can Kim Kardashian act? The answer is a resounding no.’
But that was almost the least of this show's issues. The subject of a very rare zero star assessment, it was hard to know where to begin listing the flaws. The laughably wooden dialogue? The tedious glorification of affluence and consumption? The almost wilful procession of cliches? Acting so poor they felt borderline spiteful? Let’s just say “each and every one” and never speak of this show again. Except, a second season has been commissioned, so we’re probably going to have to.
Considering the restraining orders, domestic violence claims and fatherly shortcomings, it’s reasonable to say Charlie Sheen has been a troubled figure. Not you’d truly have gleaned it from this three-part docuseries which smirked its way at Sheen’s various episodes of self-destructive excess while failing to tell us a single thing we didn’t already know. Instead, it felt as if this loose cannon was being pandered to, so any pity this show might evoke should be reserved for the people who have had to suffer close contact with this charismatic but dismissive egotist.
Naturally we knew it was preposterous from the get-go: a thriller about a supercomputer known as Charlie Big Potatoes that could either solve global crises – or destroy all of humanity. We persevered out of sheer love for its leads … but by the end, it felt like even they had stopped bothering. One scarcely reacted when his character died, and the other ultimately slicing Charlie with an axe … in super slow-motion. That's what you call admitting defeat.
Dodgy characters meeting in deserted boxing gyms? The Prodigy’s Firestarter blaring in club scenes? The late 90s called and wants its crime drama back.
In truth, that is harsh on the gangland dramas of the late 90s. Many look a bit dated now, but at least they didn’t endure the ignominy of having to accommodate baffling dialects. But there were plenty of other issues. Primarily that it was just profoundly dull; a conflict over drug-selling territory between various cockney rogues which seemed rather simplistic.
Given the extent to which she provokes the ire of the nation’s ostentatiously enraged commentators, it’s almost easy to admire the Duchess of Sussex’s various ventures into quaint lifestyle as deliberate statements. But then you watch them and are compelled to admit that actually, they may have a point. It’s like watching a homeware magazine animated; a meme for evening drinks with delusions of grandeur; a parade of sleeping dogs, humming beehives, sentimental platitudes and forgettable crafting “tips” you’ll forget instantly. All supported by vast, largely unearned wealth. Ugh.
There are clearly interesting things to be said about both Victoria Beckham and her struggles with vocation, self-image, self-acceptance. But for whatever reason, this three-part series opted not to explore them. Rather, the viewing was akin to reading a sales brochure. She clearly has good reason to bridle at what she describes as her “miserable cow” image. But unfortunately, she didn’t do herself any favours with this cagey non-event of a series.
It should have been the next big hit – except even more extravagant, with a glamorous star as a deceased benefactor and a sharp-tongued personality managing her inheritance. What more could you want? As contestants battled it out, there was plenty of betrayal and arguing. But the rules quickly became bewildering: it’s still too confusing to explain what exactly was happening. Even more regrettably, we only saw brief appearances of the star via prerecorded videos. The show 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 captured a generation? The pressure was enormous for this glitzy romcom about Jessica, a rosy-eyed New Yorker who arrives in London with a broken heart. The star took her biggest role by the horns and was a delight to watch, embodying Jane Austen levels of romantic notions. But it was all very slick and, paradoxically, was not enough. Plus, the sheer amount of famous friends involved felt uncomfortable.
Not good enough to be ‘uneven’.
Given the shrewd inclusion of gifted emerging comics, expectations were high. But sadly, most of it fell flat. A particular sketch was a one-note joke stretched to a husk but repeated in every episode. One star seemed too willing to slip into a well-known ranting mode. The behind-the-scenes sketches, in contrast, simply provoked the thought that they should probably have stayed in there a bit 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 was not it. The subject matter needed to be handled with care. Rather, the series laboured awkwardly to find the right tone, lurching from oddly breezy, slightly mannered farce to inevitably, real-life horror. Complex? Arguably. A total mess? Very much so.
We love the lead actor … but did we buy him playing the most brilliant maths genius in history, a man so smart he’s on the brink of a breakthrough that could destabilise society? No! This international thriller about government agencies targeting – and killing off – academics frankly got more absurd by the second. Silliness-by-numbers.
This uncritical portrait followed the online personality renowned for sexual escapades as she undertook her most extreme feat yet. What on earth would possess her? What we wanted was far greater examination of her actual psychology, plus those of the men in the queue. They could at least have spoken to the now-famous mum who appeared to haul her son away from the queue. What we got was horrific imagery and zero interrogation of her infamy whatsoever. And to think, the documentary-maker has a young daughter too.