Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s newest Netflix project, a polo-centric series aptly titled Polo, has galloped headfirst into a storm of ridicule from both the media and former associates.
What was likely pitched as an elegant exploration of the elite sport has instead morphed into a spectacle rife with awkward moments, prompting laughter and disdain rather than admiration. The concept—a supposed deep dive into polo players and their relationships—has fallen flat, delivering a lackluster trailer devoid of its star executive producers, Harry and Meghan.
The first wave of criticism came from Harry’s former polo companions. One ex-friend, who managed to endure the trailer without breaking into fits of laughter, labeled the show “tacky” and “cringeworthy.” They lamented that it embodied the worst stereotypes about polo, adding, “Imagine presenting a sport so poorly that even its seasoned players start to question their life choices.” Another former ally added fuel to the fire by highlighting the show’s failure to spotlight the sport’s growing inclusivity. While polo remains associated with elite circles, it has seen a surge of talented riders from diverse and less privileged backgrounds making their mark—a missed opportunity the show neglected to capture.
The backlash isn’t limited to Harry’s old friends. Hollywood insiders have joined the fray, expressing doubt over the couple’s ability to produce compelling content beyond their royal connections. One industry executive remarked, “Netflix gave Harry and Meghan a significant platform and budget, yet their attempts to create a media empire have yielded diminishing returns.” Critics argue that the lukewarm reception to Polo reflects the public’s waning interest in the duo, with one noting, “If Harry and Meghan can’t produce captivating content, maybe they should pivot to Instagram influencing. There’s plenty of money to be made posting staged photos in polo outfits with rented horses.”
Speaking of polo aesthetics, Meghan’s rumored ambition to spark a “polo wife” fashion trend seems unlikely to take off. The vision of glossy Instagram feeds filled with Ralph Lauren-inspired knockoffs, faux jewelry, and aspirational hashtags like #PoloLife might remain unrealized as the show struggles to gain traction.
The media has been quick to pounce. Liz Jones, once a vocal supporter of Meghan, didn’t mince words in her critique. She questioned the ethics of Harry and Meghan’s globe-trotting activism, pointing out the lack of diversity in the Polo cast. Her sharp observation that running a polo team is “pricier than Formula 1” delivered a stinging rebuke.
Meanwhile, conspiracy theories are swirling that Netflix may be letting the Sussexes sabotage their own reputation. Critics speculate that the streaming giant, frustrated by underwhelming results from the couple’s multimillion-dollar deal, is giving them just enough creative freedom to fail. In five years, Harry and Meghan have delivered only a handful of projects, none of which have made a significant impact. As one commentator quipped, “If Polo made the cut, imagine the rejected ideas.”
Initially hailed as Netflix’s golden duo, Harry and Meghan have yet to deliver the binge-worthy hits the platform likely envisioned. Instead, their output has been likened to “beige rocks” rather than the glittering gems promised. Despite previous backlash from underperforming projects, Netflix appears to be doubling down, resulting in what critics are calling another public relations debacle.
So, what lies ahead for the Sussexes? Perhaps Meghan’s rumored cooking show will redeem their creative streak—or it, too, might join Polo in the annals of Netflix projects nobody asked for. One thing is certain: the public’s patience, much like the couple’s credibility as content creators, appears to be running thin.
