Pole
Another Christmas, another creative offering from Harry and Meghan, those titans of television, who always work in their Montecito mansion.
Two years ago, we had Harry and Meghan’s six-episode miniseries, the first show in their $100 million deal with Netflix under which they promised to produce “content that informs but also gives hope” through a “truthful lens.” and identifiable.”
Since then, we’ve had a decent documentary about Harry’s Invictus Games and another, less good one, about leadership.
His $20 million Spotify Archetypes podcast was scrapped in 2023 after just 13 episodes. And even though there’s a lot of talk about a Meghan cooking show, there’s still no show.
But none of that has dampened his spirits. Because now they bring us Polo.
Sadly, it’s not the next series of Dame Jilly Cooper’s brilliant and mischievous adaptation of Rutshire game marathon, courtesy of Disney+. But, instead, a five-part documentary series about the impressive elite world of polo, which will “pull back the curtain on the courage and passion of this sport.”
To be fair, in the first moments it shows a lot of promise.
Harry and Meghan’s Polo Flash appearance comes at the beginning of episode five, when Harry plays a charity polo match for his non-profit organization Sentebale.
That we are going to enjoy ‘one of the most exciting sports you can imagine’. Full of ‘dirty, sweaty, sexy guys – riding…’, lots of drama and tension, and a man in a fuchsia pink polo shirt smashing a cooler with his polo stick in anger.
Perfect for a rainy Wednesday in London. You would think.
The ‘drama’ focuses on the preparations for the World Cup in Florida, where many very thin women with very smooth faces and less smooth necks will cheer on muscular men who take everything very seriously.
“Our lives are in danger every time we go out,” says one polo player, as if he were a firefighter or a sailor, or perhaps a disaster relief worker.
‘Polo is not just a sport. Polo is a lifestyle. We eat, we breathe, we sleep polo!’ cries another.
And they clearly work hard at it, because they are all wonderfully muscular and muscular, with strikingly white teeth, strong forearms, very expensive watches, Louis Vuitton holdalls, and chests like brick walls.
We see them lifting weights, skydiving, deep-sea fishing, and driving expensive cars with beautiful leather interiors while dramatic music swirls.
And we learn that 22-year-old Tim Dutta is a sweet kid financed by his overbearing father, who always shouts “we’re here for one thing and that’s to win,” and pampered by his mother. But at least he seems to love his horses a lot.
Meghan planted a kiss on Harry after his team, the Royal Salute Sentebale, won the charity match featured in episode five of the documentary series.
Harry and Meghan’s Archetypes podcast, worth $20 million to Spotify, was axed in 2023 after just 13 episodes
Nacho Figueras and Delfina Blaquier with Meghan and Harry at the Royal Salute Polo Challenge to benefit Sentebale in April
That Adolfo Cambiaso, from Argentina, is the ‘Michael Jordan of Polo’.
And that Louis Devaleix, the disgusting boss and player of a team called La Fe, is a brilliant box-breaker, and also has biceps as big as hams, a bad temper, a pregnant wife and doesn’t seem to care much about his ponies. .
‘I don’t even know what my damn horses are called!’ he says.
It seems strange that executive producers Harry and Meghan were so desperate to share this gruesome world with the rest of us.
But despite criticism that the sport is fiercely elitist, a carbon disaster and not always very nice for the poor ponies (don’t get Peta talking, for God’s sake), Meghan is said to love the whole sport scene. pole.
And according to his best friend and fellow polo player, Nacho Figueras, Harry’s “dream and passion has always been to share with the world what it takes to be a truly competitive polo player.”
Although, unfortunately, not in person.
Because while they were “heavily involved” in the making, they’re not actually involved, aside from Harry’s five-second cameo in the third minute and a brief joint appearance in Episode Five.
But his ridiculous polo friends do everything they can to make up for that, explaining to us newbies that there are four on a team, six seven-and-a-half-minute chukkas (periods of play) per match, and that riders change horses ‘like Formula One drivers.
And strutting around in tight pants, popping confetti-filled balloons to choose matches, showing off their bare breasts and making ridiculous comments like ‘polo gives me hope that I can achieve something’ and ‘I was made by God to play polo.’ ‘.
As horrible as it all is, I wonder if, in the right hands, it could have been fun, guilty-pleasure television: a sort of brilliant mix of Rivals, Selling Sunset and Made in Wrexham, which had us screaming in horror at the telly. happiness.
Instead, somehow, it’s flat, plodding, and pretty boring. And if you tried, you couldn’t be further from “content that informs but also gives hope.”