True Detective
TV’s answer to Speed 2: Cruise Control, True Detective’s second series squandered every last scintilla of goodwill generated by its first. A hackneyed LA noir tale of bad men doing bad things, it boasted a plot that was both baffling and insultingly dumb, and dialogue out of GTA: Vice City. And frankly, whoever thought that Vince “Fred Claus” Vaughn would make a good mob boss should never be allowed near a writers’ room again. No word yet on whether HBO will bother making a third one.
Tidal
What do millionaire stars complaining about not getting paid, Alicia Keys reciting Nietzsche, and the crushing realisation that no one wants to fork out for music have in common? Jay Z’s Tidal! His streaming service tried to wow us with its bizarre pop-star press conference and promise of decent sound, but the hefty subscription fee sent fans running. Power doesn’t always equal success.
Meek Mill
Drake and Meek Mill’s rap beef had it all: finger-pointing tweets about ghostwriters, diss tracks, response freestyles and roughly 100001.34 websites posting commentary on the fallout. But while Mill came off like a whingey wally, Drake came out on top: his putdown Back To Back was nominated for a Grammy, the first diss track to gain such an accolade and basically like a giant smugface emoji. Sorry Mill, you lose.
Betty Draper
Poor, poor Betty Draper. Sure, the Mad Men matriarch was difficult to love but did she deserve the indignity heaped on to her? Just as she was returning to her former self after a cruel weight storyline came another thunderbolt: terminal cancer. In the finale, while Don got to meditate in California, Betty was left in the kitchen to contemplate her unfulfilled life. That she did so while stylishly smoking a cigarette is eternally to her credit. RIP.
Jeremy Clarkson
Describing someone who walked from one £1m-a-year job to a £10m-a-year one as a loser might seem a bit of a stretch. But money can’t buy you class and for old Jezza this was a class-free year. He started it as a beloved rebel broadcaster and ended it advertising drones for a tax-efficient bric-a-brac merchant. All that via hospitalising a colleague because his dinner wasn’t warm enough. And on that bombshell…
Fantastic Four
Marvel’s cheesiest property was to be rebooted after two middling mid-00s movies and given a teen-friendly edge by director Josh Trank. Instead, it ended up an emo affair with too little clobberin’ and lots of mopin’ about corporate power. Rumours persist that Trank’s offscreen behaviour would have made a better film. It is expected to lose its studio, Fox, around $60m.
