In the glittering yet treacherous world of streaming giants, where fortunes are forged and dreams dashed in the blink of an algorithm, few spectacles have captivated – and horrified – audiences quite like the unceremonious unraveling of Meghan Markle’s much-hyped Netflix venture, With Love, Meghan. Billed as the Duchess of Sussex’s triumphant re-entry into the spotlight, this lifestyle series promised a tantalizing peek into her Montecito manse: sun-kissed kitchens brimming with artisanal jams, celebrity guests swapping secrets over garden-fresh salads, and a narrative of empowerment wrapped in the soft glow of California’s eternal summer. But what unfurled instead was a slow-motion catastrophe, a vanity-fueled fiasco that has left Netflix executives scrambling, critics howling, and royal watchers worldwide pondering: Did the former actress just serve up her own career’s bitterest defeat?

Launched amid a fanfare of promotional blitzes in March 2025, Season 1 of With Love, Meghan arrived with the weight of expectations sky-high. Produced under the Sussexes’ Archewell banner as part of their lucrative – yet increasingly strained – $100 million pact with the streamer, the show positioned Markle as the ultimate tastemaker: a poised polymath blending culinary wizardry with heartfelt hosting tips, all while subtly nodding to her post-royal reinvention.

Guests like Mindy Kaling, Abigail Spencer, and culinary icons Roy Choi and Alice Waters were paraded as endorsements of authenticity, with episodes teasing relatable rituals – think violet-infused cocktails and heirloom tomato salads – designed to lure in aspirational viewers hungry for that elusive blend of luxury and levity. Markle herself gushed in pre-launch interviews that it was her “biggest comeback,” a platform to “share joy” and reclaim the narrative after years of tabloid tempests. Netflix, ever the opportunist, leaned in hard, teasing tie-ins with her nascent lifestyle brand, As Ever, complete with limited-edition marmalades and herb kits timed to the premiere.

Yet, the honeymoon was brutally brief. Within days, the metrics painted a damning portrait. Debuting at a tepid No. 10 on Netflix’s global Top 10 with just 2.6 million views in its first week, With Love, Meghan plummeted out of sight faster than a dropped soufflé. By the semi-annual “What We Watched” report for January-June 2025, it languished at No. 383 overall, scraping together a measly 5.3 million views – dwarfed by relics like old seasons of Markle’s own Suits (which clocked higher reruns despite airing years prior) and even ambient oddities such as a crackling fireplace video (5.1 million views). Critics, sensing blood in the water, unleashed a torrent of takedowns.

The Independent branded it “gaslit by a multimillionaire,” lamenting half-explained recipes that felt like “instructions for an audience that doesn’t exist.” The Guardian dubbed Season 2 – which dropped in August 2025 to even steeper indifference – a “painfully contrived” affair, “so beige it’s beige on beige,” where every frame screamed curated perfection masking profound discomfort. Rotten Tomatoes tallied a dismal 38% from critics and an abysmal 18% audience score for the debut, with viewers venting on social platforms: “Unwatchable ego parade,” “Vanity project gone nuclear,” and “I’d rather watch paint dry in a palace.”

The backlash wasn’t confined to keyboards and review aggregators; it echoed through Netflix’s hallowed halls. Insiders, speaking on condition of anonymity to outlets like Deadline and Forbes, whispered of a project that deviated wildly from the “Meghan we were promised” – the magnetic firebrand from Harry & Meghan, the 2022 docuseries that shattered records as Netflix’s biggest documentary debut. Instead, this was a diluted domesticity, a niche cooking show masquerading as cultural phenomenon, burdened by production woes (rumors swirled of back-to-back filming for Seasons 1 and 2 to hedge bets on a quick renewal that never truly materialized).

Viewership for Season 2 cratered further, missing the Top 10 entirely in key markets like the U.S. and U.K., with estimates dipping below 2 million in premiere week – a 20% nosedive from its predecessor. Even the vaunted retention rate (4.47 hours per viewer across eight 30-minute episodes) rang hollow against juggernauts like Adolescence (145 million views) or Missing You (58 million), underscoring a simple truth: audiences tuned in for the spectacle, but bailed on the substance.

What fueled this implosion? Observers point to a toxic cocktail of overpromise and underdelivery. Markle’s pivot from scripted drama to lifestyle guru felt forced, her scripted warmth clashing with the unfiltered authenticity craved in the era of TikTok tastemakers like Nara Smith or Akilah Rene Gould – creators who thrive on raw, bite-sized relatability rather than polished, hour-long homilies. Social media amplified the schadenfreude: X (formerly Twitter) buzzed with memes of “Meghan’s marmalade meltdown” and threads dissecting her “pathological” pivot to short-form content as a tacit admission of defeat. One viral post quipped, “From Suits to flops: Who knew jam could spread so thin?” Royal skeptics piled on, framing it as karmic payback for her Windsor exit, while even neutral voices lamented the squandered potential – after all, Harry & Meghan proved her draw, but subsequent Archewell efforts like Heart of Invictus and Polo (ranking in the 3,000s) hinted at a deeper malaise.

Netflix’s response has been a masterclass in damage control. The streamer fast-tracked a holiday special and inked a scaled-back “first-look” extension with Archewell in August 2025 – a far cry from the original mega-deal, valued closer to pocket change than nine figures. Markle, undeterred in public, spun the narrative in a Fortune interview, touting a “lean team” ethos and teasing As Ever expansions, but her coy dodge on a Season 3 (“It’s about evolving”) spoke volumes. Privately, sources paint a picture of paranoia: RadarOnline reported her “furious” conviction that the royal family – Kate Middleton chief among them – orchestrated a “coordinated conspiracy” via bad press to torpedo her triumphs. Harry’s polo fields, it seems, are the only neutral ground left in this Sussex saga.

At 500 words sharp, this tale transcends tabloid fodder; it’s a cautionary epic of hubris in the streaming coliseum. With Love, Meghan wasn’t just a show – it was a referendum on reinvention, and the verdict is unequivocal: flop. As Netflix pivots to safer bets like Victoria Beckham’s documentary (poised for a ratings renaissance), Markle faces an unenviable crossroads. Will she double down on domestic drivel, or dare a bolder detour? One thing’s certain: the world is watching, jam jars at the ready, for her next misstep. In Hollywood’s unforgiving arena, love may conquer all – but not when it’s this unpalatably self-served.