Underbelly: Squizzy was a show of limited potential, and yet never met even the low benchmark it set for itself. Despite its scant charms (though I suppose “ample” is the better word for Gracie Gilbert’s appeal), Squizzy will be remembered as a series that falls short of mediocrity.

Where can the blame be laid? Jared Daperis is culpable, failing to pair his pretty face with any charisma or authority. The banal direction carries some responsibility, perpetually screaming in its audience’s face how they’re supposed to feel while rarely capturing actual emotion.

Personally, I think the bulk of the blame lies with the writers. There were interesting stories to be told here – Squizzy opening a barbershop, say – but Underbelly failed to tell one of them, and abandoned numerous interesting leads (think Squizzy sleeping with Annie Stokes). “Squizzy Loses the Plot” perfectly describes a finale that opens with Squizzy’s corpse, suggesting it will explain how he met his demise … then throws up its arms and says, “I don’t know! Someone did it. (Oh, let’s say … Moe.)” while completely failing to tie up any other substantial plotline. I never expected Squizzy to be good, but it didn’t have to be terrible.