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Ever find yourself loving a specific character on TV but slightly ambivalent about the show they’re in? Sadly, it happens. Sometimes a scene-stealer finds themselves stranded in a series that doesn’t deserve their brilliance.
We’ve cogitated, consulted the archives and compiled a list of fictional creations who were arguably too good for their own shows. Consider it a counterpoint to our recent list of characters so bad that they ruined shows. Here are 20 great characters in vehicles that weren’t worthy.
The Dowager Countess (Downton Abbey)
“What is a ‘weekend’?” The mighty Maggie Smith’s waspish one-liners were a beacon of bitchy deliciousness amid all those tedious toffs with upper-class problems. Without the Dowager Countess – or Violet Crawley to her friends (most of whom she loathed) – Julian Fellowes’ stately home saga would have been little more than a soap opera with a Fortnum & Mason account, a wardrobe full of Harris tweed and ideas above its station.
Ari Gold (Entourage)
Well, can you remember what the others were called? HBO’s 00s hit, loosely based on executive producer Mark Wahlberg’s rise to movie stardom, was basically Men Behaving Badly: Hollywood Edition. Its MVP was the ruthless, ranting agent Ari, played with scenery-gobbling glee by Jeremy Piven. He won three consecutive Emmys as the fast-talking ten-percenter, dubbed “the poster boy for high blood pressure”. FYI it was Vinnie, Eric, Turtle and Johnny Drama. Hug it out, bitch.
Bender (Futurama)
Matt Groening’s animated sci-fi sitcom will for ever be damned with the faint praise “Well, it’s no Simpsons”. Its equivalent of antihero Homer is bad-tempered robot Bender – the tinny roommate of pizza delivery doofus Fry. With his power cells fuelled by alcohol, Bender is a hard-boozing, cigar-chomping, potty-mouthed, kleptomaniac misanthrope. Even better, he’s named after Judd Nelson’s character from The Breakfast Club. Bite my shiny metal ass!
Jenny Gifford (Cold Feet)
When the 90s Mancunian couples drama got a perimenopausal reboot in 2016, it was a faintly depressing Boden catalogue of death, divorce, mortgage troubles and moody teenage offspring. That’s middle age for you. Thank the Granada gods for Fay Ripley’s lovable Jen. Her return to education as a mature student and poignant breast cancer diagnosis – handled with deadpan wit and down-to-earth emotion – were the standout story arcs of “Old Feet”.
Saul Berenson (Homeland)
The Showtime espionage thriller gripped us with the game of psychological chess between CIA agent Carrie Mathison (Claire Danes) and suspected terrorist Sgt Nicholas Brody (Damian Lewis). Sadly, the ginger Judas was lynched by Iranians in the third season finale. As Homeland went on for a further five years, it was largely carried by Carrie’s mentor and protector Saul, played by Mandy Patinkin. All grizzled beard, Middle East expertise and twinkly wisdom, “the Bear” was the whiskery surrogate father every spy needs.
Penelope Featherington (Bridgerton)
Shondaland’s bosom-heaving Regency romp is an often preposterous package of sexed-up style over substance. But its beating heart is Nicola Coughlan as the people’s heroine, Penelope. Her lifelong friendship with Eloise (Claudia Jessie) lends depth, while her secret side hustle as anonymous gossip columnist Lady Whistledown provides intrigue. When she finally hooked up with longtime crush Colin (Luke Newton), the “Polin” portmanteau was born. The nation swooned, cheered, then had to loosen its corset and go for a lie down.
Mr Blobby (Noel’s House Party)
Noel Edmonds’ light entertainment extravaganza saw him utterly upstaged by a bulbous pink-and-yellow agent of slapstick chaos. All the sweeter because it dented the cheesy host’s huge ego, like Alan Partridge playing second fiddle to Sidekick Simon. Upon his 1992 Crinkley Bottom debut, Blobby became a bona fide British cultural phenomenon and notched a Christmas No 1 the following year with his eponymous novelty hit. To this day, he pops up for clumsy cameos on other shows. The New York Times called him “a metaphor for a nation gone soft in the head”. Bob Mortimer was more succinct: “A pink, spotty, rubber twat.”
Sylvie Grateau (Emily in Paris)
Despite the berets, baguettes and ooh-la-la cliches, Darren Star’s Gallic romcom inexplicably became a Netflix smash. Its saving grace is luxury marketing magnate Sylvie (Philippine Leroy-Beaulieu) – sleekly stylish, laconically straight-talking and so darned Parisian that she chain-smokes Gauloises for lunch. She started as the sneering antagonist who disapproved of Emily’s very existence. Across four seasons, she has evolved into a total queen and taken the annoying American under her très chic wing. En route, Sylvie navigated her open marriage, expanded her business to Rome and exposed sexual abuse in the fashion industry. No wonder fans have called for her to get her own spin-off.
Lana Washington (Trigger Point)
Clear the area! Wipe sweat from brow! Snip the wire! Afghan war veteran “Wash” works as a bomb disposal expert for the Met, using her “expo” skills to foil ticking terrorist devices on the streets of London. Combining the star power of Vicky McClure and the tense thriller chops of executive producer Jed Mercurio, you can’t blame ITV for lapping it up. Three series in, however, Trigger Point remains landfill TV. Surrounded by cardboard-cutout men and implausible plot twists, McClure heroically and single-handedly keeps the hit drama the right side of daft. Just.
Schmidt (New Girl)
When quirky teacher Jess (Zooey Deschanel) answered a Craigslist ad and moved into an LA loft with three male roommates, heartwarming hilarity ensued. The screwball Fox sitcom made for a bland-but-serviceable Friends replacement, and its Chandler-like chief lol-merchant was the perma-shirtless Schmidt (Max Greenfield). This vanilla-scented self-styled ladies’ man wore driving moccasins, couldn’t pronounce chutney and dispensed quotable “Schmidtisms”, while failing to conceal his endearingly neurotic true nature. Stick another dollar in the douchebag jar.
Lale (Gangs of London)
Sky’s underworld epic is a testosterone-pumped affair, populated by cartoonish kingpins and grunting henchmen engaging in endless turf wars. By far its best character is lone wolf Lale (Narges Rashidi), fierce leader of the Kurdish heroin cartel. Season one flashbacks fleshed out her tragic backstory. A third season bottle episode saw the heavily pregnant Lale escape her Pakistani captors, give birth in an empty office block and strangle a foe with the umbilical cord, placenta still attached. Think Die Hard with full dilation.
Daddy Pig (Peppa Pig)
The rest of the cartoon oinkers are one-dimensional: Peppa’s an insufferable brat, Mummy Pig is quietly efficient, George just cries about dinosaurs. However, the porcine paterfamilias contains multitudes. He’s pathologically hopeless but displays unexpected talents. He’s unable to read a map but brings home the bacon as a successful structural engineer. He sports a beard, beer gut and specs, like a proper dad. No wonder mums of toddlers find themselves secretly developing strange cross-species crushes on him. Neither age nor muddy puddles can wither him.
Seema Patel (And Just Like That)
When the majestic Kim Cattrall regally declined to return for the Sex & the City spin-off, it left a whopping Samantha-sized hole to fill. In tottered real estate broker Seema (Sarita Choudhury), who wasn’t just an unapologetic diva but added desperately needed diversity. A purring cougar with a taste for Birkin bags, martini lunches, hazardous smoking in bed and seducing hot gardeners, Seema was fabulosity personified. She was totally short-changed plot-wise, mind you.
Will McAvoy (The Newsroom)
Aaron Sorkin’s HBO drama kicked off in incendiary style as disillusioned Republican anchorman Will (an Emmy-winning turn from Jeff Daniels) went rogue and delivered a withering speech about America’s shortcomings as a nation. Awoken from his midlife slumber, the swashbuckling idealist set about creating a mould-breaking cable news show. Unfortunately, he was surrounded by a bunch of whining po-faced millennials and Sorkin’s writing lapsed into smug sermonising. Here’s Tom with the weather.
Mrs Coulter (His Dark Materials)
This valiant BBC/HBO bid to turn Philip Pullman’s sprawling fantasy trilogy into blockbuster TV turned out plodding, preachy and impenetrable. Things perked up when Ruth Wilson sashayed on to the screen as Marisa Coulter, the Cruella de Vil-esque villainess who turned out to be protagonist’s Lyra’s power-mad mother. Wilson did similar on detective drama Luther. When her saucy serial killer, Alice Morgan, was flirtatiously facing off against Idris Elba’s stroppy sleuth, it was electric.
Seth Cohen (The OC)
Wearing vests and pouting moodily in the Cohens’ pool house, bad boy Ryan (Ben McKenzie) was supposed to be the California teen soap’s romantic lead. Yet he was absolutely eclipsed by his geeky, sarky adoptive brother Seth (Adam Brody). His slow-burn romance with popular Summer (Rachel Bilson) was way cuter than Ryan’s predictable love for poor little rich girl Marissa (Mischa Barton). When Marissa was killed off in the series three finale, the show’s quality nose-dived – leaving Seth and his toy horse, Captain Oats, to shoulder the burden.
DI Annika Strandhed (Annika)
Spooks, Last Tango in Halifax, River, Unforgotten, The Split … Nicola Walker can do no wrong, except perhaps this uneven cosy crime drama, which started life as a Radio 4 drama. As a Norwegian detective based in Glasgow, she solves maritime murders, tiptoes around her teenage daughter and drolly breaks the fourth wall to tell us all about it. Formulaic cases, pedestrian plots, perfunctory dialogue. If it wasn’t for Walker, this watery series wouldn’t stay afloat.
Lindsay Cunningham (The Newsreader)
The shoulder-padded Australian period piece portrays the bond between an embattled female newsreader (Anna Torv) and a closeted male reporter (Sam Reid). Yet its cult hero is the irascible, unreconstructed and ratings-obsessed boss of News at Six. As nicotine-stained Lindsay (William McInnes) bawls and bullies, stripy-shirted paunch hanging over his grey slacks, you can almost smell the strong liquor and overpowering aftershave.
Princess Disa (The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power)
A voice that can literally move mountains? Count us in. When badass Princess Disa (West End veteran Sophia Nomvete) lifted rocks with the power of her singing, saving the lives of dwarf miners trapped by a collapsed shaft, Amazon’s giga-budget fantasy epic finally delivered a spine-tingling moment. As the first female dwarf ever depicted on screen in a Tolkien adaptation, Disa is also a Middle-earth mould-breaker. Just ignore the nerdy nit-pickers who complain that she doesn’t have a dwarven bushy beard.
Barney Stinson (How I Met Your Mother)
Suit up! The focus of the long-running CBS sitcom – billed by UK broadcaster E4 as “like Friends but without the boring Ross bits” – was supposed to be narrator Ted Mosby. As the frequently punchable Ted droned on about his quest to find a wife, his gang of mates became way more interesting, notably besuited playboy Barney (Neil Patrick Harris). He hatched outrageous schemes to seduce women, played a lot of laser tag and lived by the “bro code”. He even found his own happy ending. Well, until that widely reviled finale. Legen-wait-for-it-dary.
