American Woman's timing may be the only thing right here. All else is wan, muddled, tired and bland.

When you start doodling on the Internet instead of watching the show you are supposed to review, then either you, or the show, has a problem. I'm going with the latter.

The pilot was so uneven that the whole affair nearly veers into "Reefer Madness" territory--the kind of over-the-top cautionary fable that subverts honorable intentions through hysteria or cliche. Despite its pedigree, Teenager doesn't appear to have ever stepped inside a high school, either.

The plot is slight, the resolution a laugher and the characters basically stick figures. Scorpion has its fun moments, but not enough of them.

It feels observed, rather than lived in. Enacted, rather than unfolding.

It's hard to imagine a worse show.

The herky-jerky camera work whenever it appears to shake barns or gobble up an off-road vehicle only calls attention to the fact that this is a cheaper production. And the human cast gathered around Gross is sorely lacking in the quirkiness that made the original ensemble so much fun. The new gang wouldn't be out of place in a Gap commercial. And yet ... there is something about the kitschy graboid and the hydra-like cluster of smaller worms that erupt from its mouth that's both laughably ludicrous and primordially unnerving. [27 Mar 2003, p.B35]

The pilot has some funny moments, but after that, Kirstie starts to flatline.

[The Canadian comedy all-stars] give it good vibes. But the scripts, despite mad moments of whimsy, can't keep pace with the cast's comic timing and tone.

Good-looking--also lethargic, languid, listless and a little bit lifeless--at least in the early going.

Three Rivers is a masterful send-up of old medical TV show conventions, dating back to the '50s, with a parade of cliches so obviously and hilariously inane that you will laugh until your side aches.

Hernandez is good in what's otherwise a pallid, uninspired facsimile of the original.

The trash meter soars when [Elizabeth Hurley's] on-screen, then sags when she's off. And there's just too much sag here.

That's a lot of pressure, even for Iron Jay, and maybe why Night One felt like a work in progress--terribly rough in spots, not bad in others.

Linc’s still tough and impulsive. Michael still has that lonely middle-distance stare. Tuesday’s opener suggests there’s plenty of action ahead, some real-world parallels, and a shaggy dog that could lead us to an interesting place. Hopefully that place will finally be closure.

If only it were more interesting.

Bracing and tasty.

The show seems to have no point, rendering it agony how hard the proceedings work at making one.

The pilot's accumulation of cute - oh, for the straightforward simplicity of bowling alley lawyer "Ed" - feels overbearing long before Kelley's courtroom summation turns societal sermon.

This show lurches along, all its sitcom puzzle pieces laid out without being assembled into even a Hollywood picture of life.

Sure, there are some fun moments. Sure Brosnan looks mah-velous. He always does. But a little less plodding plot and a lot more action, please.

There's no drama, no trumped-up conflict, no insights, no revelations and absolutely no discreet view of a once-notorious Dorchester clan that ran wild in the streets but now drives them, coolly surveying their kingdom for another restaurant location.

Some twisty situations, some unexpected heart, some nuanced acting. Some serious single-camera potential.

Initial impression: It fits. Fans of Chalke will remain fans, and everyone who long ago realized that Elizabeth Perkins was the best thing about "Weeds" will as well.

There's certainly comedy to be found in these basic situations, but not in "Lucky Louie's" confounding approach or stilted presentation.

This isn't "Friends," after all. At its hour length, "Related" asks us to take the Sorelli saga somewhat more seriously. Yet it provides sitcom incidents that can't stand the significance test.

I liked it. But not enough to watch it again. [9 Jul 1992]