Looking back, we reflect on the TV offerings of the past year, a selection of series emerge not for their brilliance, but for their spectacular failures. From cringe-inducing spin-offs to bafflingly bad docuseries, here are the productions that left us scratching our heads or simply reaching for the remote.
How to start with this love/hate follow-up? Burdened with woeful writing, painful character development (we demand better for Miranda!), and a paltry 71 seconds of fan-favourite Samantha, the series fought to justify its existence. Briefly, as the third series began, it seemed as if it had finally hit its stride. Then arrived an episode all about Seemaâs natural deodorant. Little surprise the creator declared this would be the final series. It ended on a low point; the closeup of Mirandaâs toilet full of poo was simply too on-the-nose. Still, viewers undeniably found joy dissecting every single âwhat on earth?â moment. And as Carrie â once again single â danced around her sprawling townhouse to Barry White, who didnât release a little sob?
âCan Kim Kardashian act? The answer is a resounding no.â
But that was almost the smallest of this show's problems. The recipient of a exceedingly uncommon no-star assessment, it was hard to know where to begin enumerating the flaws. The hilariously leaden dialogue? The tedious veneration of affluence and consumption? The almost deliberate procession of tropes? Performances so poor they felt borderline malicious? Suffice it to say âeach and every oneâ and never speak of this series again. Except, a new season has been ordered, so weâre likely going to have to.
Given the restraining orders, abuse allegations and fatherly shortcomings, itâs fair to say Charlie Sheen has been a troubled figure. Not youâd truly have known it from this three-part documentary which smirked its way at Sheenâs various bouts of self-destructive hedonism while struggling to tell us a single thing we didnât already know. Rather, it felt as if this loose cannon was being indulged, so any pity this show might evoke should be saved for the people who have had to suffer close contact with this charismatic but flippant egotist.
Naturally we understood it was preposterous from the outset: a thriller about a AI known as Charlie Big Potatoes that could either solve global crises â or annihilate all of humanity. We persevered out of pure love for its leads ⌠but by the end, it felt like even they had stopped bothering. One scarcely cared when his character died, and the other ended up hacking Charlie with an axe ⌠in painfully slow-motion. Talk about giving up the ghost.
Dodgy characters meeting in deserted boxing gyms? A certain band's Firestarter blaring in club scenes? The late 90s called and wants its gangland drama back.
Actually, that is unfair on the gangland dramas of the late 90s. Many look a little dated now, but at least they didnât suffer the embarrassment of having to accommodate unconvincing dialects. But there were many other problems. Primarily that it was just profoundly dull; a conflict over narcotics territory between various London rogues which felt rather simplistic.
Considering the extent to which she provokes the ire of certain ostentatiously angry commentators, itâs temptingly easy to admire the Duchess of Sussexâs various ventures into twee homemaking as deliberate statements. But then you watch them and are forced to admit that actually, they might have a point. Itâs like watching a lifestyle magazine animated; a poster for wine oâclock with ideas of grandeur; a parade of sleeping dogs, buzzing beehives, Hallmark sayings and forgettable crafting âtipsâ youâll forget instantly. All underpinned by immense, largely undeserved wealth. Ugh.
There are clearly interesting things to be said about both Victoria Beckham and her struggles with vocation, identity, self-acceptance. But for some reason, this three-part series opted not to say them. Instead, the experience was like consuming a marketing catalogue. She obviously has every right to bridle at what she describes as her âsternâ image. But unfortunately, she failed to do herself any favours 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 playing dead and a well-known personality managing her estate. What more could you ask for? As contestants battled it out, there was plenty of betrayal and arguing. But the rules quickly became bewildering: itâs even now too complicated to explain what exactly was happening. Even more disappointingly, we only saw brief appearances of the star via filmed videos. The show ended up smelling of a programme that was straining desperately to emulate something way beyond it.
How do you follow a show that captured a generation? The pressure was enormous for this glitzy romantic comedy about Jessica, a hopeful New Yorker who arrives in London with a shattered romance. The star took her biggest role by the horns and was a delight to watch, reveling in Austen levels of romantic notions. But it was all very glossy and, ironically, was not enough. Plus, the sheer amount of famous cameos 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 fell flat. A recurring sketch was a one-note joke stretched to a dry pulp but recurring in every episode. One star seemed too ready to slip into a well-known ranting mode. The behind-the-scenes sketches, meanwhile, simply inspired the idea that they should probably have remained in there a while longer.
This retelling of the story of Amanda Knox was overseen by Amanda Knox and pretty much exclusively presented the perspective of Amanda Knox. So, while there probably is an compelling drama to be made about the horrific 2007 murder, this isnât it. The subject matter needed to be handled with care. Rather, the series laboured awkwardly to find the right tone, lurching from strangely breezy, somewhat stylised farce to inevitably, real-life horror. Twisted? Arguably. A total mess? Very much so.
We love the lead actor ⌠but did we buy him playing the most brilliant maths genius since, a man so smart heâs on the brink of a breakthrough that could destabilise society? No! This international thriller about secret services targeting â and eliminating â academics honestly got more farcical by the second. Silliness-by-numbers.
This uncritical portrait followed the online personality renowned for explicit exploits as she undertook her biggest feat yet. What on earth would possess her? What we wanted was far greater interrogation of her true psychology, plus those of the men in the queue. They could at least have interviewed the now-famous mum who appeared to drag her son away from the queue. What we got was disturbing shots and zero interrogation of her notoriety whatsoever. And to think, the filmmaker has a teenage daughter too.
A digital strategist and tech writer with over a decade of experience covering emerging trends in the UK's online landscape.