On the one hand, we get intriguing news items about Pooja Dadlani, Shah Rukh Khan’s manager, and complex negotiations. On the other, we get Call My Agent, Bollywood.

The Indian adaptation of the effervescent hit French show Call My Agent (Dix pour Cent) is so stunningly awful, that a new term should be created for watching it. The term hate-watch—a form of schadenfreude, where you watch a much touted show or movie for the grim satisfaction of knowing that someone may be more rich, famous and hot, but you’re better than them because you haven’t made that shit (or even better, not made anything at all) —is too passionate for this limp and dull series. The only way I can explain having watched it all is that I was too aghast to move as the shambolic scenes unfolded.