Elara is a seasoned journalist and digital content creator with a passion for uncovering stories that matter.
As we consider the TV landscape of the recent year, a handful of shows stand out not for their excellence, but for their spectacular shortcomings. Ranging from cringe-inducing spin-offs to confusingly bad docuseries, here are the programmes that had us utterly bewildered or just reaching for the remote.
Where to begin with this divisive spin-off? Plagued with dreadful writing, painful arcs (we demand better for Miranda!), and a mere 71 seconds of fan-favourite Samantha, the show fought to justify its existence. Briefly, as the final series started, it looked like it had at last hit its stride. Then arrived an episode all about Seemaās natural deodorant. No wonder the creator declared this would be the final season. It ended on a bum note; the closeup of Mirandaās loo flooded with poo was simply too on-the-nose. Still, fans undeniably found joy dissecting every single āwhat on earth?ā episode. And as Carrie ā a single woman once more ā twirled around her sprawling townhouse to Barry White, who couldn't release a small sob?
āIs Kim Kardashian an actress? The answer is a resounding no.ā
But that was practically the least of this show's problems. The recipient of a exceedingly uncommon no-star assessment, it was hard to know where to begin listing the flaws. The hilariously wooden writing? The tedious veneration of wealth and consumption? The seemingly deliberate parade of cliches? Performances so poor they felt almost malicious? Suffice it to say āeach and every oneā and forget about this show again. However, a new season has been commissioned, so weāre probably going to have to.
Considering the restraining orders, domestic violence claims and fatherly failures, itās reasonable to say Charlie Sheen has been a bad boy. Not youād truly have known it from this three-part documentary which chuckled along at Sheenās various bouts of self-destructive excess while failing to tell us anything we didnāt already know. Rather, it felt as if this volatile personality was being indulged, so any sympathy this series might induce should be saved for the people who have had to suffer proximity with this charismatic but dismissive egotist.
Naturally we understood it was ridiculous from the get-go: a thriller about a AI known as Charlie Big Potatoes that could either save the world ā or annihilate all of humanity. We persevered out of sheer love for its leads ⦠but by the end, it felt like even they had given up trying. One barely cared when his character died, and the other ultimately slicing Charlie with an axe ⦠in painfully slow-motion. Talk about admitting defeat.
Shady figures convening in deserted boxing gyms? A certain band's Firestarter jackhammering away in club scenes? The late 90s called and wants its crime drama back.
Actually, that is unfair on the crime shows of the late 90s. Many look a little old-fashioned now, but at least they didnāt suffer the ignominy of having to accommodate unconvincing accents. But there were many other problems. Primarily that it was just really boring; a dispute over drug-selling territory between various London rogues which felt rather simplistic.
Given the degree to which she provokes the ire of certain ostentatiously angry commentators, itās almost easy to applaud the Duchess of Sussexās televised ventures into twee lifestyle as intentional provocations. But then you view them and are forced to admit that in this case, they might have a point. Itās like watching a homeware magazine animated; a meme for evening drinks with delusions of grandeur; a parade of sleeping dogs, buzzing beehives, Hallmark sayings and forgettable crafting āhacksā youāll not remember instantly. All supported by vast, mostly undeserved wealth. Ugh.
There are obviously interesting things to be discussed about regarding Victoria Beckham and her journey with career, self-image, self-acceptance. But for some reason, this documentary series chose not to explore them. Instead, the viewing was like reading a marketing catalogue. She clearly has every right to resent what she describes as her āmiserable cowā image. But sadly, she didnāt do herself any favours with this cagey non-event of a series.
It had the potential to be the next big hit ā except even camper, with a famous star as a deceased benefactor and a well-known personality managing her estate. What more could you ask for? As contestants competed, there was plenty of backstabbing and arguing. But the rules quickly became incomprehensible: itās even now too complicated to explain what precisely was happening. Even more regrettably, we only saw glimpses of the star via prerecorded videos. The series ended up reeking of a production that was trying way too hard to emulate something far greater than it.
How does one succeed a show that captured a generation? The pressure was immense for this glitzy romantic comedy about Jessica, a rosy-eyed New Yorker who lands in London with a broken heart. The star took her biggest role by the horns and was joyous to watch, reveling in Jane Austen levels of romantic notions. But it was all very slick and, paradoxically, was insufficient. Plus, the abundance of celebrity friends involved felt icky.
Not even good enough to be āunevenā.
Given the shrewd recruitment of gifted emerging comics, hopes were high. But sadly, most of it didnāt land. A particular sketch was a single joke milked to a husk but recurring in every episode. One star seemed too ready to slip into a familiar ranting mode. The behind-the-scenes sketches, meanwhile, simply inspired the idea that they should probably have stayed in there a while longer.
This retelling of the story of Amanda Knox was executive produced by Amanda Knox and pretty much solely showcased the viewpoint of Amanda Knox. So, while there probably is an interesting drama to be made about the horrific 2007 murder, this was not it. The material needed to be handled with care. Instead, the series laboured awkwardly to find the right voice, lurching from oddly jaunty, slightly mannered farce to ultimately, real-life horror. Twisted? Perhaps. 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 intelligent heās on the brink of a breakthrough that could destabilise society? No! This international thriller about secret services targeting ā and killing off ā academics frankly 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 interrogation of her actual psychology, plus those of the men in the queue. They could at least have spoken to the legendary mum who appeared to drag her son away from the queue. What we got was disturbing shots and absolutely no critical analysis of her infamy whatsoever. And to think, the filmmaker has a teenage daughter too.
Elara is a seasoned journalist and digital content creator with a passion for uncovering stories that matter.
Rita Davis