Netflix’s action-comedy is deadly short on both.

There’s something undeniably attractive about the premise of Obliterated. A highly skilled team of soldiers, spies, bomb experts, and tech geniuses stop on nuclear bomb detonation in the heart of Las Vegas and fully celebrate their victory. And by fully celebrate, we mean FULLY. Drugs, alcohol, exotic animals, hundreds of guests, plenty of sex toys, and so on. Then they wake in the morning to find their mission wasn’t as successful as they thought, and now they have no choice but to try and save the day in various stages of loaded and hungover.

Sadly, miles exist between premise and execution. Think the difference between visiting the Bellagio in Vegas and the Tropicana in Atlantic City. Then double it. Maybe triple it. Put it another way, Obliterated is bad. Very bad.

To be fair, my capacity for “potty” humor is relatively low. Perhaps other viewers might delight in a scene in which “Tech Chick” Maya (Kimi Rutledge) cleans feces off the ass of the team’s passed-out bomb expert Haggerty (C. Thomas Howell) in a Las Vegas fountain. I, alas, do not. If that’s your jam, that’s perfectly valid. As it is not mine, Obliterated rarely made me crack a smile, nevermind give a giggle.

That said, Obliterated took some appreciated swings if they didn’t connect. For one, it doesn’t shy away from sex and nudity, offering two sexually active queer characters that the series never glances at side-eyed. There’s no snickering at either while also not letting expert sniper Gomez (Paola Lázaro) get away with a pretty reckless attitude towards the emotions and relationships of others.

Similarly, while ultimately the show offers more nude women than men, it does serve up a decent amount of sexualized male flesh. In addition to several butts (not including the one noted above, which would only be attractive to a very small specific population), there are at least two fairly impressive and seemingly non-prosthetic penises presented for those interested in that kind of thing. Compliments to Howell on both size and grooming.

Some might hope that despite the comedy failing, the action may prove interesting enough to save the endeavor. Unfortunately, Obliterated boasts CBS procedural-level production values. That might be acceptable until the bullets start flying. Then, the muzzle flashes and blood spurts sink the aesthetics even lower. They recall those surprisingly professional-looking YouTube fan films that fell apart the moment a scene required any effects. As someone who rarely notices bad effects, these proved so obvious they frequently distracted from the work on-screen.

Still, a series that employs Carl Lumbly as the CIA Director can’t be all bad, right? Truth be told, the cast is where the series’ biggest saving grace lies. Rutledge, Shelley Hennig as the team leader Winters, and Nick Zano as the tactical head McKnight do fine giving three fairly stereotypical roles some sense of snap. Even better are Terrence Terrell as tactical second Trunk and Eugene Kim as helicopter pilot Paul. They’re not performing Shakespeare, but both find some emotions among the bad jokes and worse effects. Jason Mantzoukas, as the manifestation of Paul’s guilty conscience, is essentially rehashing his role as Tommy’s talking penis from Pam and Tommy with more emotional resonance, and that’s a good time.

Still, they’re all just the thinnest of silver linings on the darkest of storm clouds. Obliterated is bad, bad, bad. No premise can conceal that.

Obliterated tries desperately to forget what it did in Vegas beginning November 30 on Netflix.