A luminous and fully alive portrait by a first-rate actress.

An inert, talky bore.

Two things are going for this latest adaptation--solid production values and a talented lead actor.

The producers ("Alias" alums Josh Appelbaum and Andre Nemec) have created a Dickensian (with a nod to L. Frank Baum) universe, draped in shadows, pastels and mystery, while aurally wrapped in chestnuts from the Sweet, Five Man Electrical Band and the Ramones. This new series has enormous promise.

Creator Vince Gilligan ("The X-Files") never loses touch with the mundane reality that so brilliantly magnifies its absurd horrors.

Absorbing in parts, tedious in others, but Hahn is great.

Mosaic is so entertaining (it is) and engrossing (that, too) that it flies by. These six hours pleasurably melt away, and before you know it, you’re at the closing credits.

Superb second season, if the early episodes are any indication.

Smart, engaging and a lot of moving pieces (so do a little homework first).

It's hard to convey all the ways that this tightly directed show goes right: quietly observant character detail, solid sleuthing, play-it-straight absurdity and sneaky "Airplane!"-style parody riffs.

If not all things to all people, this Oscar salute should be enough for most.

This was the best comedy on TV last season.

A very good-looking pilot. That leaves Gustin, which is where nagging doubts crop up.... Gustin's Allen is blue of eye and clear of conscience. Sweet and gentle, he's immensely likable but not particularly intriguing, unlike Stephen Amell's Oliver Queen or even Tom Welling's Clark Kent.

Jack and Ace are sharply drawn and played but they're also a pair of sulking men-children -- drab and colorless, or at least next to Bauer's feral Wild Bill. The female characters are also underwritten in the early episodes (although Starz promises the later episodes will redress that). Nevertheless, there is something here -- call it abundant promise.

Looking occupies some fuzzy ill-defined middle ground filled with uni-dimensional characters.

Gleeks will engage; hard to imagine who else will.

Solid start to what could--and maybe should--be a future CW franchise.

A head-spinning, yet deeply humane, thrill ride.

The Writers' Room winds up more anecdotal than explanatory. Heavily edited/compressed, it makes for a breezy half-hour if not necessarily revelatory disclosure, at least in the three episodes sent for review.

Waithe proves that Emmy for writing was no fluke--script and cast are outstanding--but The Chi takes on too much, too soon, and the story loses focus and latent power as a consequence.

Almost public TV-like by current reality-show standards, this new edition is actually a lot like the original, absent the Velveeta. True-blue fans will rediscover its pleasures.

One episode in, "Glee 2.0"--otherwise known as the fourth season--looks to be a winner.

But no one from this new group makes the kind of nails-on-blackboard impression that Omarosa or know-it-all Sam immediately did last year. Initially, they don't seem as interesting as the originals. [9 Sep 2004]

“Shangri-La” offers a look into the private world Rubin has created. It may be limited, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t fascinating.

Shore has written this adroitly enough and Winters and Duhamel are two good and seasoned actors who easily locate what's most endearing, or at least what's most amusing about their respective characters.

"Sleeper Cell" is nicely acted, produced, written, directed, but is still so deeply rooted in the conventions of the medium, that no matter how hard it tries, or how hard it wants to be something else, this still ends up Just TV.

Newcomer Shanice Williams--all of 19--had to capture a butterfly by the name of Dorothy. And if the butterfly occasionally eluded her grasp, her voice did not.... Leon, a veteran Broadway and TV director, decided we all needed a little dose of happiness instead. We do. He and the terrific cast of The Wiz Live! delivered.

Episodes remains funny.... Mangan and Greig, whose characters remain perfectly, hilariously, beset by that terrible Hollywood contagion: Self-loathing co-mingled with self-preservation.