When Meghan Markle’s latest Netflix venture—sorry, series—dropped, the internet wasted no time demanding that Trey Parker and Matt Stone work their magic.
The mere thought of South Park eviscerating it in a whirlwind of animated mockery had royal watchers practically salivating. After the sheer brilliance of 2023’s Worldwide Privacy Tour episode, fans are desperate for a sequel, and honestly, who can blame them? If ever a show begged for South Park’s razor-sharp satire, it’s this one—a lifestyle series starring Meghan Markle as the self-proclaimed Martha Stewart of Montecito. The comedic potential is limitless.
The premise alone is enough to provoke laughter. Meghan, in all her carefully curated domestic glory, invites viewers into her world of homemade jam, exorbitantly priced party favors, and—of course—deep, introspective musings about herself. All of this unfolds in a lavish $5 million rental, because nothing says “relatable” quite like a mansion with more bathrooms than most people have rooms. Each 30-minute episode attempts to paint Meghan as the ultimate domestic goddess, but critics have already shredded it, calling it vapid, directionless, and so spectacularly bad that it somehow becomes watchable—much like a slow-motion car crash. One could argue that Meghan and Harry have entered the “so bad it’s good” era of their careers, but does it really count if no one is tuning in? With dismal audience interest and scathing reviews, even royal commentator Richard Fitzwilliams noted that this might be a defining moment for the couple—and all signs point to it being more of a break than a make.
Naturally, the internet wasted no time in summoning the kings of satire. “South Park, we need you now!” pleaded one desperate social media user. Another quipped, “Just call it Worldwide Disaster Tour and let the jokes write themselves.” A fair point, considering Meghan and Harry’s recent string of misfires—most notably, the infamous polo documentary no one asked for—has provided an endless stream of comedic material. The first South Park takedown of the Sussexes wasn’t just funny; it was a cultural phenomenon. Meghan’s character, hilariously dubbed a “sorority girl, actress, influencer, victim,” was so painfully accurate that even their most devoted supporters struggled to spin it. The aftermath? A notable dip in their U.S. popularity. Who knew an animated satire could be more damaging than a Newsweek exposé?
And here we are again, watching Meghan pivot from failed podcaster to failed lifestyle guru, practically begging for another South Park lampooning. Imagine it: Meghan hosting an extravagant dinner party, earnestly demonstrating how to cut strawberries into heart shapes, while a monotone narrator reassures the audience that yes, this is a real Netflix series, and no, they are not hallucinating. Meanwhile, Harry lurks in the background, polo mallet in hand, gazing into the abyss and wondering where it all went wrong. As Guardian TV writer Stuart Heritage aptly put it, With Love, Meghan could very well be the last thing she ever makes for Netflix. “Kiss the Netflix deal goodbye,” he declared—perhaps the kindest review she’s received thus far.
One can only imagine what Netflix executives are thinking. Once upon a time, pairing the Sussexes with The Crown seemed like a stroke of genius. Now, with Spotify dropping them, book sales dwindling, and Archewell possessing all the influence of a small-town PTA meeting, the logic behind their $100 million deal is harder to justify. So, what’s next for the world’s most self-parodying couple? If With Love, Meghan is any indication, we’re in for another round of cringeworthy reinventions. But for now, we wait. Will South Park step in to deliver the parody the internet so desperately craves, or has reality officially outpaced satire? Either way, one thing is certain—Meghan Markle’s unintentional comedy show is far from over.
