When I think back to my teenage summer holidays, I remember spending hours watching America’s Next Top Model, critiquing every contestant with my sister. My favorite episode was always the makeover one: girls crying as their hair was chopped short or even shaved off completely. Back then, Tyra Banks seemed like a big sister, giving the contestants the tough love they’d need to survive in a brutally competitive industry. Now, I see things differently.
I hadn’t watched the show since I was young, but like many others, I recently watched Netflix’s excellent documentary, Reality Check: Inside America’s Next Top Model. It was a strange experience, rewatching episodes I hadn’t seen in over twenty years. At times, I felt like I was transported back in time. How could I not find scenes of models collapsing from hunger absolutely horrifying? I wondered what effect watching a show that celebrated eating disorders had on my own mind. I think it did have an impact. I think the lingering stain of it is still there. I can’t watch America’s Next Top Model anymore, and I don’t want to. Ironically, it’s just too ugly now.
The Apprentice
Honestly, has any show in television history had a worse legacy than The Apprentice? The main culprit is clearly the American original, for the way it legitimized Donald Trump, but the British version doesn’t exactly escape blame either. In terms of values, it promotes the kind of nonsense that should have been discarded after the financial crisis: competitive selfishness and relentless greed at any cost. It has also churned out one fool after another into the media world. Plus, it’s not even enjoyable to watch. Why are people still applying for this mess? Why are any of us still watching? I can’t believe I used to enjoy this show.
Good Omens
There are few things that bring me simpler joy than the writing of Terry Pratchett. In my early teens, I fell for it completely – until then, I didn’t know books could be so silly, or surprisingly profound, while also featuring a magical orangutan. I spent years returning to it whenever I needed something to make me smile. So when Prime Video’s adaptation of Pratchett and Neil Gaiman’s Good Omens came out, I was thrilled. After years of poor TV adaptations that failed to capture how Pratchett’s writing balanced goofiness with big dramatic moments, they finally got it right. David Tennant and Michael Sheen’s sparkling chemistry! Gaiman staying true to the book! Special effects that didn’t suck! For years, it was TV I cherished. That is, until Gaiman became involved in sexual assault allegations, which he denies. I haven’t even watched the finale. This used to be TV that took me to my happy place. Now, not so much.
The Office
First things first: I still consider The Office to be a masterpiece. As a satire of reality TV, as a character study, as a sharp-eyed portrait of Britain at the turn of the millennium, it remains unmatched. And that’s exactly why it’s so hard to enjoy a quarter of a century later: it recreates the relentless sexist banter of that era with the same nauseating accuracy it brings to everything else. The nudge-nudge misogyny might seem tame compared to today’s online manosphere, but revisiting the show in 2026 reminds you of a time when tedious yet still threatening jokes about women were part of everyday life. The Office was always uncomfortable – it’s pure cringe comedy – but now it feels deeply unsettling.That’s not necessarily a bad thing: the best art never fades into a cozy, boring comfort blanket. Even so, one rewatch should cure most cases of Y2K nostalgia. Rachel Aroesti
Married at First Sight
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Hugely troubling … Brook in Married at First Sight: Australia. Photograph: Geoff Magee Photography/Nine/Seven.One Studios
Looking for some light relief during lockdown in 2020, I started watching Married at First Sight Australia. The premise of the reality TV show is this: couples are matched by a panel of experts and meet for the first time at the altar. After they tie the knot, they go on a honeymoon, then move in together. Throughout the “experiment,” as it’s called, the group meets every week for dinner and a “commitment ceremony,” where each couple talks through how it’s going with the experts and decides if they want to stay or go. From sparks flying between couples to dramatic arguments at dinner, it makes for compelling reality TV. But earlier this year, a BBC Panorama investigation into Mafs UK revealed that there have been allegations of rape and sexual assault on the show, hearing hugely troubling accounts from three women. Meanwhile, female participants on Mafs Australia have spoken out about the vetting process, asking why men with past allegations of domestic violence and abuse have been allowed to take part. It’s another example of safeguarding failures in reality TV, and knowing what’s gone on behind the scenes, there’s no way I’d watch it now. Isabelle Aron
This Life
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‘Never again!’ … Daniela Nardini as Anna, Amita Dhiri as Milly, Andrew Lincoln as Egg, Jack Davenport as Miles and Ramon Tikaram as Ferdy in This Life. Photograph: BBC
I was 17 when This Life sauntered onto our screens, all miniskirts, Marlboro Lights, and wild shagging. A deeply foolish age, I should have reminded myself, when I also believed in cargo pants and New Labour. God knows why I thought Amy Jenkins’s landmark series would have aged well when the 1990s so bracingly have not. Still, I poured myself a (metaphorical) pint of Stella and geared up for a nostalgic rewatch. Would I still fancy Egg? And want to be Anna? (No, and God yes, I’m only human.) I managed about three episodes before I nearly died of casual sexism, homophobia, and boredom. Never again. Chitra Ramaswamy
I’m a Celebrity … Get Me Out of Here!
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A new kettle of witchetty grubs … Nigel Farage on I’m a Celebrity … Get Me Out of Here! Photograph: ITV/Shutterstock
To be clear, it was only ever the guiltiest of pleasures. But for many years, I found I’m a Celebrity mindlessly enjoyable as a vicarious adventure holiday and a schadenfreude-laden Z-lister hazing ritual. Ant and Dec’s gentle but pointed teasing of the participants was inclusive: it felt as if we were all in on the joke. Everything changed in 2023, when Nigel Farage signed up. Suddenly, the joke was on us. Mainstream political figures were tiresomely tolerable. Farage, though, seemed a different kettle of witchetty grubs: a poisonous figure, trading on the electorate’s worst instincts and being allowed to massage his image in primetime. Clearly, I wasn’t going to watch that – and I never have again. Fortunately, The Celebrity Traitors has arrived now, offering a far more palatable version of challenge-based famous-people foolishness. Phil Harrison
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The Great British Bake Off
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Ruined like a cake left out in the rain … Sue Perkins and Mel Giedroyc on The Great British Bake Off. Photograph: Des Willie/BBC/Love Productions
Bake Off was ruined for me like a cake left out in the rain when the rights to the show were dramatically bought from the BBC by Channel 4. After seven ad-less series on the BBC, negotNegotiations over production costs caused the baking competition to move three doors down. In a show of support, the presenters Mel Giedroyc and Sue Perkins – along with the resident cake expert Mary Berry – decided not to follow the hit show. Bread expert Paul Hollywood, however, stayed, and a new cast of talent have put up with his stern demeanor and his signature handshakes ever since. Not me, though. The betrayal left a bad taste in my mouth for that cozy village-fete vibe. The ruthless business side clashed with the show’s wholesome British image. It taught me that sometimes, beneath the layers of zesty fruit and flaky pastry, there’s a soggy bottom waiting. George Francis Lee
Entourage
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‘Toxic masculinity – the TV show’ … Adrian Grenier, Jerry Ferrara, Kevin Connolly, Jeremy Piven and Kevin Dillon in Entourage. Photograph: Cinematic/Alamy
The male Sex and the City was kind of fun for a while back in the 2000s, but Entourage has aged terribly. Based on executive producer Mark Wahlberg’s life, it followed a movie star and his group of hangers-on as they navigated Hollywood. This mainly involved chasing women around LA while obsessing over cars and money. Loud-mouthed agent Ari Gold (Jeremy Piven) was a workplace bully whose treatment of his assistant Lloyd (Rex Lee) was racist and homophobic. Over eight seasons and a failed film sequel, it went from insider satire to douche-bro fantasy. I saw it neatly described online as “toxic masculinity – the TV show”. Creator Doug Ellin has accused HBO of burying the show due to “righteous PC culture”. Let’s not hug it out, actually. Michael Hogan
Euphoria
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Fetish slop … Zendaya as Rue in Euphoria. Photograph: HBO
I’ve felt conflicted about watching the final season of Euphoria. On one hand, I was up for Rue’s spiritual awakening and Maddy’s career as a permanently eye-rolling talent agent assistant – plus who wouldn’t want to watch Sydney Sweeney and Jacob Elordi get married? But I’m not the only one left disappointed by Rue’s evolution into a horny drug mule, Cassie’s cam-girl ambitions, and the fact that Kat (Barbie Ferreira) was completely absent. It wasn’t the life I’d dreamed of for my favorite debauched TV teens – and the online chatter calling out Euphoria for its male-gaze misogyny and slide into “fetish slop” didn’t make watching any more enjoyable. Did I enjoy Jules’s turn as a sugar baby? Sadly, no. Leah Harper
Coupling
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‘Like watching a sitcom written by Nuts magazine’ … Gina Bellman, Kate Isitt, Richard Coyle, Ben Miles, Jack Davenport and Sarah Alexander in Coupling. Photograph: Bbc/Allstar
When I first watched Coupling when it aired in 2000, I thought it was a hilarious comedy that was brutally honest about dating, sex, and relationships. During a recent rewatch, I couldn’t get past the shallow portrayal of many of the women – among the group of friends we have Jane, a manipulative stalker, and Sally, whose main focus in life is avoiding wrinkles. What I remembered as edgy humor was actually childish “jokes” labeling women who refuse to be dumped as “unflushables” and about how getting your mate’s porn collection when he dies is a bonus. Then there’s the episode where Patrick is revealed to have a cupboard full of sex tapes after recording his exes without their consent. It was like watching a sitcom written by Nuts magazine, and every bit as sexist and unfunny as that sounds. Ann Lee
House of Cards
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Unwatchable now … Kevin Spacey in House of Cards. Photograph: Netflix/Sportsphoto/Allstar
House of Cards didn’t work when it tried to continue without Kevin Spacey as scheming politician Frank Underwood. But with Spacey now cast out, the earlier seasons are unwatchable too. That we liked Frank when we really shouldn’t have, because he was honest with us in his asides toMera – and because, damn it, he was good at lying and killing, and some of his victims deserved it – was a unique thrill, a forbidden break from our moral rules. The allegations about Spacey’s personal behavior make it impossible to keep fooling ourselves like that. Jack Seale
Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of FAQs about the phenomenon of TV shows going bad written in a natural and accessible tone
General Questions
1 What does it mean when a TV show goes bad
It means a show that you once loved has become a chore to watch The characters storylines or overall vibe have changed so much that it no longer feels like the same show and youve lost the desire to keep watching
2 Is it normal to feel almost guilty for not liking a show anymore
Totally normal Youve invested hours of your life and emotional energy into these characters Feeling like youre giving up on them can feel like a betrayal but its actually just a sign that the show has stopped respecting your time
3 Why do shows that start out great end up so badly
Its a mix of things The original writers might leave and new ones take over the network might force the show to stretch out a story that should have ended or the writers simply run out of ideas and start recycling plots Success can also make the creators less willing to take risks
4 Is it the shows fault or is it me
It can be a bit of both You as a viewer change and grow over time A show you loved at 20 might not resonate with you at 30 However if you rewatch old episodes and still love them but new ones feel flat thats a strong sign the shows quality has dropped not your taste
5 Is jumping the shark the same as a show going bad
Jumping the shark is a specific often ridiculous moment that marks the exact point where a show starts its decline A show going bad is the longer more gradual process of decline that usually follows that moment
The Why and How of Bad Shows
6 What are the most common reasons a show loses its magic
The biggest culprits are
