I'm about five episodes into the second season of And Just Like That…. I hate it. It’s awful.
The characters are shadows of their former vivacious, multi-faceted and occasionally even relatable selves. The writing is embarrassingly flat and riddled with cliches. The storylines are drab and predictable. Even more startlingly, it’s no improvement whatsoever on the first season; at no point did the producers think ‘Hmmm. This isn’t landing how we expected with audiences; maybe we should mix things up for Season 2’. But will I watch it all? You bet your diamond-encrusted Manolo Blahniks I will.
And Just Like That… is far from the first series that I have ‘hate-watched’, but it’s undoubtedly the most high-profile one. I’m clearly not alone; the first episode was HBO’s most-watched debut episode of all-time, and although they haven’t released viewing figures for Season 2, it has clearly generated enough of a viewership to be re-commissioned for a third season. Yet across the board, both critically and publicly, it has been panned. Every friend I have spoken to, without question, has agreed that it is mind-bogglingly and consistently bad - yet they have watched every single episode, regardless. That’s the hate-watching effect.
There must be a deep-seated psychological reason for it. Perhaps a misplaced sense of loyalty? Having re-watched it a couple of years ago, I can vouch that the original Sex and the City series still holds up - or simply in wretched, desperate hope that it will get better. On the other hand, what did we expect? Both Sex and the City spin-off films - especially the second one - were terrible.
Still, there is clearly a perverse pleasure, undoubtedly fuelled by social media, in collectively complaining about something you’re disappointed by. Often your own taste can go against public opinion; there is clearly an enormous audience for Mrs. Brown’s Boys, for example, or the very different (yet equally brainless) Ted Lasso at the other end of the scale. Finding out that others, be they a small cohort, share your view only serves to reinforce it.
And Just Like That… is far from the first series that I have 'hate-watched', but it’s undoubtedly the most high-profile one.
It’s similar to people following the most obnoxious figures on social media (Donald Trump, Elon Musk, Conor McGregor etc.) simply because there is something grotesquely compelling about them. Hate-watching is the equivalent of not being able to tear your eyes away from a terrible accident: you know it’s wrong to look, but the grisliest, most masochistic part of you wants to see what happens next.
Still, a masochistic streak doesn’t fully explain the allure of hate-watching. I shout at the telly during ridiculous scenes. I roll my eyes vigorously enough to induce a headache. There is a wealth of TV stations and streaming services literally at my fingertips, but I can’t bring myself to switch over. I could read a book from the large pile on my bedside table instead. I could learn a new language on Duolingo. I could go for a walk or listen to a podcast. Every time I find myself asking the Sky box for And Just Like That…, I’m disgusted with myself - but still, I cannot seem to tear myself away. I need to know what happens!
multi-faceted and occasionally even relatable selves.'
‘Why do I keep doing this to myself?’ I ask my dog, as he looks at me blankly before following my husband out of the room; neither can endure another moment of Charlotte posing inane questions like "What is wrong with people just staying who they were?" or the absurdity of Sarah-Jessica Parker’s Carrie, who hosts a sex podcast, being reluctant to discuss vaginas.
Who knows, maybe Season 3 will make it all right again - or perhaps, as Carrie Bradshaw might put it, ‘And just like that… you’ve wasted another ten hours of your life.’ Either way, I will be hate-watching, safe in the knowledge that I am definitely part of the problem.
