Is Meghan’s perfect kitchen a last-chance saloon? Some are charmed by her life of domestic bliss, but Hollywood insiders must be thinking the same thing, writes AMANDA GOFF

Nothing, and I mean nothing, can stop me from watching handsome, tanned men playing polo in tight white pants.

But less than ten minutes into Polo, the new Netflix docuseries produced by Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s company Archewell Productions, I started to pull away.

I expected tears, tantrums, drama, sex – a modern Jilly Cooper novel brought to life. It turns out my imagination got a little carried away, but you can hardly blame me. Netflix hadn’t exactly gone out of its way to promote the show.

Now I know why.

I won’t spoil the plot for you – there isn’t one – but you won’t see Meghan and Prince Harry until the fifth and final episode, which lasts less than 15 minutes.

The rest is a plodding slog through the niche world of polo, told by a group of players so oblivious to their own privilege that the whole thing feels like a parody.

Netflix doesn’t typically publish its streaming figures, but the less-than-stellar reviews combined with reports that Polo failed to crack the UK, US or global top 10 suggest it wasn’t exactly a hit.

Following the Sussexes’ similarly underperforming (but critically better received) 2023 release of Heart of Invictus, Netflix executives may be wondering whether their rumored $100 million partnership with Archewell was money well spent.

The only blockbuster Harry and Meghan delivered for Netflix was, er, Harry & Meghan, a fawning documentary about their departure from the royal family that was tastefully released three months after the death of Queen Elizabeth II.

Yet it’s not all doom and gloom for Montecito’s most famous family… they always have The Duchess of Sussex’s new lifestyle show to fall back on.

With Love was announced as I was writing this column, and at first glance it appears to be an addition to the ‘American Riviera Orchard’ jam company that has been bubbling on the stove since March of last year.

Now I’ll reserve judgment until it comes out, but celebrity interviews combined with cooking and crafting tips doesn’t seem like a recipe for success on a streaming platform whose biggest hits are Love is Blind, Dahmer and Squid Game.

There were the usual celebrity friends (Mindy Kaling returns after previously being interviewed by Meghan for her Spotify podcast) and Meghan’s promises to reveal her domestic ‘tips and tricks’. Still, it all felt a bit style over substance.

I mean, what is really on offer that you wouldn’t get from a daytime TV cooking show? Apart from the far-fetched hope that she would launch a veiled attack on the royal family.

Look, I don’t want to be snarky, but things aren’t really looking good for the Sussexes.

LA-based royal expert Kinsey Schofield put it best when she said in a recent interview with the London Standard: ‘A year ago we were talking about whether or not Meghan would run, and now we’re debating when she could sell her. first jar of jam. It is such a fall that it is difficult to process.’

When they fled the royal fold in 2020 with lofty promises to become financially independent and make the world a better place, you would have been a fool to doubt them. They had millions of followers – mostly in the United States, where they planned to make their new home – plus all the free publicity in the world for Archewell, their corporate charity with interests in film, TV and podcasts.

And yet here we are, having ended 2024 with nothing but Meghan’s arts and crafts celebrity interview show to look forward to. It all feels very ‘last roll of the dice’, doesn’t it?

And if that wasn’t bad enough, last week I was alarmed to discover that the Sussexes’ most die-hard fans (the so-called ‘Sussex squad’) were sharing creepy Al images of the couple’s children, Lilibet and Archie. I didn’t understand it at first, but then it occurred to me that they had most likely resorted to AI because they were unhappy with the family’s increasingly infrequent personal updates. By disparaging the Royal Rota, which for decades had provided the press with a steady stream of family photographs, the private, when it suits them, Sussexes have inadvertently encouraged the most disturbing form of fandom.

In short, by giving the public what they don’t want (boring Polo documentaries) and refusing to share enough of what they do want (beautiful family photos, like the one Kate takes), Californians have made a royal mess of things. 2024.

And I hate to break it to them, but I don’t think 2025 will be much better.

It’s no secret that Hollywood is fickle and the applause only lasts as long as the audience is entertained. And for Meghan and Harry, the crowd stopped clapping long ago. The Sussexes were once embraced as exciting new stars and new talent, but their story is now starting to grow stale. And that’s before we talk about their lack of talent.

The $100 million Netflix deal was once their crown jewel and signed Hollywood’s commitment to their story of how they fled the evil British royals for the warm embrace of the US. But now, with poorly received projects like Polo, Heart of Invictus and Live to Lead (Remember That?), the cracks in their star power are showing.

In Hollywood you’re only as big as your last hit, and they haven’t had one in a while. When I watched the trailer for With Love, Meghan, I couldn’t help but imagine her thinking: If this doesn’t work, we’re screwed.

Could it be that the American public has concluded that they don’t have much of a say besides bashing their families? Perhaps they thought keeping their titles would be enough to keep them relevant – but that’s the problem with the Americans, they’ve snubbed the British Royal Family once before, and they’ll happily do it again..

The irony, of course, is that the Sussexes have turned their backs on the monarchy, an institution based on tradition, to become celebrities in Hollywood, where all that matters is what’s new and shiny.

If you can’t keep up in Hollywood, you’re thrown out. The royal family, on the other hand, takes care of their own family, as long as they follow the rules.

But no, Harry and Meghan insisted they had to leave the royal fold (while retaining their titles, of course) so they could launch their own brand, one that bridges the gap between Buckingham Palace and La La Land. But what is that brand today, more than four years after Megxit? Honestly not think even they know.

Unlike Meghan, Harry has no profession to fall back on. His entire upbringing was about duty and service, and his post-royal career hinges on his personal brand. As Hollywood begins to tire of him, his options shrink and without new angles to sell, his ability to generate revenue or keep audiences interested is in jeopardy.

And newly-elected President Donald Trump makes no secret of the fact that he because he is “not a fan” of Meghan and found the Sussexes “very disrespectful to the Queen,” their time as US residents could be coming to an end.

Let’s not forget Harry in his memoirs. Save for past drug use, including cocaine, marijuana and magic mushrooms, and Trump warned that “appropriate action” would be taken if it emerged that he had lied on his visa forms.

When Harry and Megs first set foot in Montecito, I predicted that the American fairy tale would not last. With the Hollywood spell over and a potentially hostile White House, I foresee that 2025 could be even bleaker than the year they just had.

If the leader of the free world has his way, they could even return to Britain with their tails between their legs.

What a sight that would be.