As we reflect on the television landscape of the recent year, a handful of series stand out not for their brilliance, but for their notable shortcomings. Ranging from awkward sequels to confusingly bad docuseries, here are the programmes that left us utterly bewildered or simply reaching for the remote.
Where to begin with this divisive spin-off? Burdened with woeful scripts, painful arcs (we demand better for Miranda!), and a mere 71 seconds of beloved Samantha, the series struggled to find its footing. For a moment, as the third season began, it looked like it had finally found its groove. Then arrived an episode centered on Seemaâs natural deodorant. No wonder the creator announced this would be the final series. It concluded on a bum note; the lingering shot of Mirandaâs toilet full of poo was just way too on-the-nose. Still, fans certainly had a hoot dissecting every single âwtf?â moment. And as Carrie â once again single â twirled around her palatial townhouse to Barry White, who didnât let out a little sob?
âCan Kim Kardashian act? Of course she canât.â
But that was almost the least of this drama's problems. The recipient of a very rare zero star review, it was hard to know where to start listing the flaws. The laughably leaden writing? The tedious veneration of affluence and consumption? The almost wilful procession of tropes? Acting so poor they felt almost malicious? Suffice it to say âeach and every oneâ and forget about this show again. However, a second season has been commissioned, so weâre probably going to have to.
Considering the restraining orders, abuse claims and parental failures, itâs reasonable to say Charlie Sheen has been a bad boy. Not that youâd truly have known it from this three-part documentary which chuckled along at Sheenâs various bouts of reckless excess while struggling to tell us a single thing we didnât already know. Rather, it felt as if this volatile personality was being pandered to, so any sympathy this show might evoke should be saved for the people who have had to endure proximity with this charismatic but flippant narcissist.
Naturally we understood it was ridiculous from the get-go: a thriller about a supercomputer known as Charlie Big Potatoes that could either solve global crises â or destroy all of humanity. We persevered out of pure admiration 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 ended up slicing Charlie with an axe ⌠in painfully slow-motion. That's what you call giving up the ghost.
Shady characters meeting in deserted boxing gyms? A certain band's Firestarter blaring in club scenes? The late 90s called and demands its crime drama back.
In truth, that is harsh on the crime shows of the late 90s. Many seem a little old-fashioned now, but at least they didnât suffer the embarrassment of having to indulge baffling dialects. But there were plenty of other issues. Primarily that it was just really boring; a conflict over narcotics territory between various cockney rogues which seemed rather simplistic.
Given the extent to which she provokes the ire of the nationâs performatively enraged commentators, itâs almost tempting to admire the Duchess of Sussexâs various forays into twee homemaking as intentional statements. But then you view them and are compelled to concede that actually, they may have a point. Itâs like watching a homeware magazine come to life; a meme for wine oâclock with ideas of grandeur; a parade of snoozing dogs, buzzing beehives, sentimental platitudes and pointless crafting âtipsâ youâll not remember instantly. All underpinned by vast, mostly unearned wealth. Ugh.
There are clearly interesting things to be said about both Victoria Beckham and her journey with vocation, self-image, self-acceptance. But for whatever reason, this three-part series chose not to explore them. Rather, the experience was akin to consuming a sales brochure. She obviously has good reason to bridle at what she describes as her âmiserable cowâ image. But unfortunately, she failed to do herself any favours with this guarded letdown of a series.
It should have been the next big hit â except even more extravagant, with a glamorous star playing dead and a well-known personality overseeing her inheritance. What more could you ask for? As players battled it out, there was plenty of backstabbing and squabbling. But the rules quickly became bewildering: itâs still too complicated to detail what exactly was happening. Even more disappointingly, we only saw brief appearances of the star via prerecorded videos. The show ended up reeking of a programme that was trying way too hard to emulate something way beyond it.
How does one succeed a show that defined a generation? The pressure was immense for this glitzy romantic comedy about Jessica, a hopeful 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 ideals. But it was all very glossy and, paradoxically, was insufficient. Plus, the abundance of famous cameos involved felt icky.
Not good enough to be âpatchyâ.
Given the smart recruitment of gifted younger 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 familiar ranting mode. The writing room sketches, in contrast, simply provoked the idea that they should probably have remained in there a bit longer.
This retelling of the story of Amanda Knox was executive produced by Amanda Knox and pretty much solely 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 material needed to be treated sensitively. Rather, the series struggled painfully to find the right tone, lurching from strangely jaunty, somewhat stylised farce to ultimately, real-life horror. Twisted? Arguably. A complete mess? Very much so.
We love the lead actor ⌠but did we believe him playing the greatest maths genius since, a man so smart heâs on the verge of a discovery that could ruin society? Nope! This globe-trotting thriller about government agencies spying on â and eliminating â academics frankly got more absurd by the second. Formulaic nonsense.
This hagiography followed the online personality renowned for explicit exploits as she prepared for her biggest feat yet. What on earth would possess her? What we wanted was way more interrogation of her actual psyche, plus those of the men in the queue. They could at least have spoken to the now-famous mum who showed up to haul her son away from the queue. What we got was disturbing shots and zero interrogation of her notoriety whatsoever. It's staggering to consider, the filmmaker has a young daughter too.
Lena Visser is techjournalist met focus op startups en digitale transformatie in Eindhoven.