Julie Burchill: Meghan’s new Netflix show is surreally dull

https://www.spectator.co.uk/article/meghans-new-netflix-show-is-surreally-dull/ (Unarchived)

https://archive.ph/peJES (Archived)

Julie Burchill's hilariously scathing review of the Grasping Harpy's latest flop.

*** Article slides included in post

Some snippets:

I started out full of enthusiasm that this apparently self-made counter-jumper (actually expensively educated by her poor doofus of a dad) was bringing a soupçon of style to the old Windsors. When it transpired that she was a liar (that ‘secret’ wedding before the public one) and a hypocrite (taking private jets like others take taxis while preaching about climate change) I naturally changed my opinion of her, as I’m not a dolt. I’ve loathed the lying, hypocritical bore ever since, and noted with pleasure the repeated failure that her ‘projects’ run into.

Oh, the delicious schadenfreude.

This is very much Meghan’s show, with Harry making a few background appearances; Fanny and Johnnie finding their place in the natural order of things. It’s like that notorious Time cover where he stood behind her looking like a hairdresser assuring her the highlights took a good five years off her – ‘Not that you need it, darling, you and Lilibet Limited could be sisters!’

Lilibet Ltd 🤣

The first shot of the first episode features a bee feasting on a flower, which is an unfortunate image considering how the Hollywood man-hopper helped herself to the sticky wealth of the Spare. 

One sensed that this would be a pattern; the ex-actress who had walked away dismayed from so many auditions, overlooked for someone younger/prettier/more talented now getting to have all her starring roles at once, not quite realising that she is doing it in front of a world ready to judge her very harshly indeed for upsetting the Queen. You could almost feel sorry for her – almost, if she wasn’t such a thick-skinned, attention-seeking no-mark.

No sympathy for the reptile.

Then we’re in a boring kitchen – so beige it makes background music sound like Shirley Bassey – which she admits isn’t even her own, of all the phoney starts, and she’s talking about the first guest she’s going to have over, someone called ‘Daniel Martin’. It’s unfortunate that this is the name of an eponymous John Fowles hero, as it adds to the feeling that Meghan is in the habit of having ‘imaginary friends’, the real power-players of showbiz having turned against her some time ago.

All her "friends" areimaginary transactional.

Like a lot of women who were attractive when young, she says things that are dull as if they’re amusing, having gotten into the habit of thinking herself a wit by men who wanted to get into her knickers. But not even the cameramen can raise a titter. We see her try all her ‘looks’ on: caring, convivial and especially sincere. They say that once you can fake sincerity, you can fake anything; Meghan can’t even fake sincerity well.

Ironic that the quean of fakery can't even fake it. Poor Hank and his blue todger.

Then they make candles out of the left-over wax; ‘I’ve never touched bees-wax before,’ shudders Mr Martin, and you could swear he’s going to say ‘a vagina.’

🤣🤣🤣

Apparently Meghan will be joined in future by such showbiz luminary pals as ‘Abigail Spencer’ – I’d love to see the list of guests who turned her down – during this eight-parter...

No make up tutorials with the Guthy Renker lady? No elevating Ozempic with Ozemprah? No wine o'clock with Cameron Diaz or Kimberly Paisley?

Though Meghan may carry on promising Netflix jam tomorrow, I have a feeling that this absolute screaming stinker of a show – a show so dull it makes watching paint dry seem like Saturday night at a supermodel lesbian chem-sex orgy – won’t be delivering any time soon.