Looking back, we consider the TV landscape of the recent year, a selection of series emerge not for their excellence, but for their spectacular shortcomings. From awkward spin-offs to confusingly bad docuseries, here are the programmes that had us scratching our heads or just reaching for the remote.
Where to begin with this divisive follow-up? Burdened with woeful scripts, painful character development (we demand better for Miranda!), and a mere 71 seconds of beloved Samantha, the series struggled to justify its existence. For a moment, as the third series started, it seemed as if it had finally hit its stride. Then arrived an episode centered on Seemaâs natural deodorant. Little surprise the showrunner declared this would be the final series. It concluded on a low point; the closeup of Mirandaâs toilet flooded with poo was just way too on-the-nose. Still, fans undeniably had a hoot dissecting every single âwtf?â episode. And as Carrie â a single woman once more â danced around her palatial townhouse to Barry White, who couldn't let out a small sob?
âIs Kim Kardashian an actress? Of course she canât.â
But that was practically the least of this show's problems. The subject of a very rare zero star review, it was difficult to know where to start enumerating the problems. The hilariously leaden dialogue? The mind-numbing veneration of wealth and consumption? The seemingly deliberate procession of cliches? Acting so poor they felt borderline spiteful? Suffice it to say âeach and every oneâ and forget about this series again. Except, a second season has been commissioned, so weâre probably going to have to.
Given the restraining orders, abuse allegations and fatherly shortcomings, itâs reasonable to say Charlie Sheen has been a troubled figure. Not that youâd really have known it from this three-part documentary which smirked its way at Sheenâs various bouts of reckless hedonism while struggling to tell us a single thing we didnât 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 close contact with this charming but dismissive narcissist.
Of course we knew it was preposterous from the outset: a drama about a supercomputer known as Charlie Big Potatoes that could either solve global crises â or destroy all of humanity. We stuck with it out of sheer admiration for its leads ⌠but by the end, it felt like even they had stopped bothering. One barely cared when his character died, and the other ultimately hacking Charlie with an axe ⌠in painfully slow-motion. That's what you call giving up the ghost.
Shady characters meeting in deserted boxing gyms? The Prodigyâs Firestarter blaring in club scenes? The late 90s called and demands its gangland drama back.
Actually, that is harsh on the crime shows of the late 90s. Many look a little old-fashioned now, but at least they didnât endure the embarrassment of having to indulge unconvincing dialects. 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.
Given the degree to which she provokes the ire of the nationâs ostentatiously enraged commentators, itâs temptingly tempting to admire the Duchess of Sussexâs various ventures into quaint lifestyle as intentional statements. But then you view them and are compelled to admit that actually, they may have a point. Itâs like watching a homeware magazine animated; a poster for evening drinks with delusions of grandeur; a parade of snoozing dogs, buzzing beehives, sentimental sayings and pointless crafting âtipsâ youâll forget instantly. All supported by immense, largely unearned wealth. Ugh.
There are obviously interesting things to be said about both Victoria Beckham and her struggles with vocation, identity, self-worth. But for some reason, this three-part series chose not to say them. Instead, the experience was akin to consuming a sales 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 helps with this guarded letdown of a series.
It had the potential to be the next cultural phenomenon â except even camper, with a glamorous star as a deceased benefactor and a well-known personality managing her estate. What more could you ask for? As players competed, there was plenty of betrayal and squabbling. But the rules quickly became bewildering: itâs still too confusing to detail 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 straining desperately to emulate something way beyond it.
How do you succeed a show that captured a generation? The expectation was immense for this starry romcom about Jessica, a rosy-eyed New Yorker who arrives in London with a broken heart. The lead actress 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 insufficient. Plus, the sheer amount of celebrity friends involved felt uncomfortable.
Not good enough to be âpatchyâ.
Given the shrewd inclusion of talented younger comics, expectations were high. But unhappily, most of it fell flat. A particular sketch was a single joke stretched to a dry pulp but recurring in every episode. One star seemed too ready to slip into a well-known irate mode. The writing room sketches, meanwhile, simply provoked the thought that they should probably have remained in there a bit longer.
This dramatisation of the story of Amanda Knox was overseen by Amanda Knox and pretty much solely presented the perspective of Amanda Knox. So, while there undoubtedly is an compelling drama to be made about the horrific 2007 murder, this was not it. The subject matter needed to be treated with care. Rather, the series struggled painfully to find the right tone, lurching from oddly jaunty, somewhat mannered farce to ultimately, real-life horror. Complex? Arguably. A total mess? Absolutely.
We love the lead actor ⌠but did we believe him playing the most brilliant maths genius since, a man so intelligent heâs on the brink of a discovery that could destabilise society? No! This globe-trotting thriller about secret services targeting â and killing off â intellectuals honestly got more absurd by the second. Formulaic nonsense.
This uncritical portrait followed the online personality renowned for explicit escapades as she undertook her biggest challenge yet. What on earth would motivate 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 now-famous mum who appeared to haul her son away from the queue. What we got was horrific shots and absolutely no critical analysis of her infamy whatsoever. And to think, the documentary-maker has a young daughter too.
Professional poker strategist and analyst with over a decade of experience in competitive poker and game theory.