[A h]ighly implausible if smartly written hour. [16 Sept 2002, p.E1]

This one starts out at a frenetic clip, and even A-list talent is helpless in the face of the formulaic banter that such occasions demand. Only when the show slows down--midway through, does Parenthood suggest that it may have something worth watching.

A three-hour miniseries that bounces between tragedy and comedy with ease.

The show’s salty-sweet themes of loyalty and redemption contrast nicely with the vile comedic speeches Leary has made a career out of delivering.

Mamet has supplied Phil Spector with his signature rapid-fire dialogue, but nameless attorneys and consultants interrupting one another only set the table for more tiresome time with Pacino.

After the nerve-jangling first episode, I predict you’ll be hooked.

It’s a fascinating visual ride. But without heroes worth rooting for or a victim worth avenging, the rubble heaps of an imploded metropolis can only do so much heavy lifting.

Samantha Who? actually gets better as it goes along. There’s a lot of table-setting in this first episode, but I found myself enjoying a later episode, and Applegate is a big reason why.

It's a bright, fun little show, adhering to the formula that has worked for so many other light dramas on USA: tight writing, a little romance, whirly movement.

It’s a smart series with a pacing that sometimes takes your breath away. Still, once the action pauses, will viewers want to spend time with a bunch of amoral characters?

Mr. Selfridge really gets rolling in its third and fourth episodes, when its interlocking stories and Piven’s outsize performance settle into place.

Seems like a high-stakes game of Baccarat, with NBC throwing good money after bad. [22 Sept 2003, p.E8]

It’s a pleasure to watch Bean fall into his “legends,” or fake identities, even as the show pushes the boundaries of what TV audiences might accept when it comes to instantaneous computer heroics.

So it's come to this - all talk and no action... Some of the lines are funny and several of the stars, particularly Aniston and David Schwimmer, who plays Ross, are appealing. But something is missing here and that something is a story. Where's the beef?[22 Sept 1994, p.F1]

The punchlines fell flat more often than not.

"My Boys" suffers from an unrealistic setup, and too many scenes amount to five people sitting around talking.

This one has an “Entourage” pedigree (Mark Wahlberg is a producer) and is technically billed as a comedy, though it has neither the witty banter nor satisfying ending of one.

These brothers are like most WB stars and starlets, pretty faces with negligible theatrical skills.

The best that can be said about "Medium" is that it has a little more pep than similar shows and a sense of humor. [3 Jan 2005]

We're supposed to buy that the C.S.I. unit is the next wave of high-tech crimefighting, but their tools don't look very high-tech to me. One gizmo looks suspiciously like a canister vacuum cleaner and the only thing it "finds" is a toenail clipping that could've been spotted with the naked eye. [6 Oct 2000, p.E1]

The show could use a return to what made it great in the first place: [Sookie and friends] battling monsters with the help of benevolent, attractive bloodsuckers.

It all has the potential to add up. Eventually.

Workplace comedies just bore me.

Black Sails is exactly like the 18th-century Caribbean pirates it brings to life: dirty, amoral and worth stomaching only when there are no women around.

Kings is oddly tedious, thanks to a supporting cast of uninteresting characters and a script loaded with heavy-handed analogies to health-care reform, Halliburton and the Clintons.

[A] sad-sack parody. [18 June 1999, p.F4]

It’s a bit of a mess.... Between the issues of race, tribalism, rape and consent, The Red Tent covers more ground than expected.

[It] makes defense work look as sexy as anything on the high-tech "CSI."