Just when you thought the world might be blessedly free of another painfully forced project, here comes yet another teaser for Meghan Markle’s Netflix cooking show.

And if you thought this was going to be some kind of culinary masterpiece, think again. The teaser itself is so excruciatingly cringe-inducing that it makes you wonder if Netflix is secretly trying to sabotage her.

Let’s start with the aesthetic. Hair, hair, everywhere. If there’s one thing that can immediately turn stomachs in a kitchen setting, it’s loose, unkempt hair dangling over food.

It’s almost like she’s trying to make people lose their appetites before the show even begins. Then there’s the vocal fry—the elongated words, the insufferable “oohs” inserted into every pause. Riveting television, truly.

But let’s not ignore the glaringly obvious issue: why is she even here? The show is supposedly about Meghan sharing hosting tips, but instead, it seems to be just another exercise in self-indulgence. The chefs—arguably the only people in the teaser with actual expertise—are reduced to props in Meghan’s ongoing saga of performative existence.

She awkwardly places leaves on a plate at a snail’s pace, looks around as if she’s never set foot in a kitchen before, and offers up the kind of forced small talk that would make a corporate networking event seem engaging.

It’s painfully obvious that she has no real chemistry with the chef. The conversation is so stilted and unnatural that you have to wonder if even AI could generate something more engaging.

At one point, Meghan just stands there, randomly touching food like an alien trying to figure out how humans eat.

Why is she not at least pretending to cook? Could they not have given her a spoon to stir something, a knife to chop a single vegetable—anything to make it seem like she belongs there?

And then there’s the interaction—if you can even call it that. Meghan’s attempts at engaging with the chef range from uncomfortable to downright robotic. The chef seems like he’s just trying to get through the ordeal. At one point, he goes for a double high-five, only to visibly jolt his hands back in hesitation. If body language could scream, “Get me out of here,” his would be deafening.

Now, let’s talk about Netflix’s role in all of this. The streaming giant, which has been eerily silent on promoting this show, decided that this—this painfully charisma-deficient exchange—was the highlight reel. If this is the best they could scrape together, what horrors lie within the actual episodes?

The YouTube comments section, always a reliable gauge of public sentiment, is absolutely brutal. Within hours of posting, the teaser racked up thousands of dislikes and a tsunami of scathing remarks. People aren’t just uninterested—they’re actively repelled.

And yet, here’s Meghan, pushing forward, trying to convince us all that she’s a lifestyle guru with wisdom to impart. The only problem? She can’t even fake it convincingly.

Everything about this production screams contrived. Even in the simplest moments—placing food on a board, making eye contact—she exudes an air of someone desperately mimicking normal human behavior.

Netflix may have hoped for a hit, but instead, they might have just crafted the most unintentional comedy of the year. One thing is certain: if the goal was to create a compelling teaser, they failed spectacularly.

Because nothing about this—nothing—makes anyone want to tune in. If anything, it serves as a cautionary tale of what happens when someone tries way too hard to be something they’re not.

Meghan Markle, Netflix cooking show, cringe-worthy teaser, vocal fry, self-indulgence, awkward interactions, YouTube comments, lifestyle guru, performative existence, Netflix fail.