It's a monumental bore. ... Meanwhile, in absence of plot, the cast (sad to say, a fine one) is left to chew the scenery. And chew away they do.

A mostly superficial fast-cut of Schumer's marriage, pregnancy and life on the road that never pauses to ask, why is she subjecting herself to this?

Wan, worn, predictable, "Mr. Mayor" feels like a misfire in the early episodes.

Baffling, dull Barry is a bore, and so is the series named for him.

It's rather painful to report that the series itself is just not very good, playing like an infomercial without any sort of deeper engagement with the subjects at hand.

[Kit Harington's] a narcotized Jon Snow in a narcoleptic of a miniseries that nods off at times, and seems maddeningly unaware that viewers will be induced to do the same thing. ... A gluepot of a miniseries with good actors and no pulse.

It's a bland allegorical satire built on an obvious point that unfolds in outer space where days (or nights) never end, and the passengers are irritating, and the ship is girdled by stiffs and human excreta. ... Lost in space, and on-screen, too.

Too rushed, too unfunny, with hardly any music. At least Hall promises better times ahead.

Because Rudd's Herschkopf is so reliably repugnant and Ferrell's Marty so utterly hopeless, as a viewer you eventually feel trapped as well. There's no way out, no exit, just eight long hours spent with two famous actors who seem to know nothing of the people they're supposed to be.

Bland, harmless, forgettable.

Money and cameos and nice locales don't make parodies work (nor does gun violence, which this newcomer jarringly has). ... Pallid, distant reflection of "Childrens Hospital." A whiff.

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

Craven and corrupt, studios did ruin lives and stoke racism. But a seven-hour Velveeta-smothered corrective, along with a few nice performances and some genuinely awful ones (discretion is indeed the better part of valor on this last point, by the way)? Get me rewrite, kid. STAT. Overindulgent, overwrought, overdone.

It becomes a challenge to endure a show that jerks its audience around this much, and cannot decide whether it wants to be tabloid-level trashy television with horror leanings, a serious depiction of human failings, an expose of the dark side of the adoption world, the story of a marriage falling apart, or something else.

Interesting idea, otherwise deadly dull.

Mostly lame, but also good-natured, with an amusing finale.

Moselle’s camera lingers on them lovingly — but nobody thought to give these characters much in the way of real personalities.

It's all about the writing, in this case, and the utter lack of depth, or inner life, or suggestion that anything of particular interest might be happening here.

At least "Before" had the decency to come up with a different ending. It's the beginning and everything in between that's the problem.

The Alec Baldwin Show is about Alec Baldwin. The guests are props for his observations and worldviews, or foils for stories about his brilliant career. ... Soporific.

A viewing of the first two episodes proves to be quite the chore. We're introduced to one-dimensional characters, presented a mystery that the characters themselves barely seem to be interested in pursuing, and we're asked to just sit there and put up with it. It can be rather excruciating.

A 2+2=4 cop show with no surprises but plenty of Wolf touches.

The new Roseanne looks like it wants to fight the 2016 election all over again. That could be a miscalculation because viewers--along with the rest of the electorate--are exhausted.

Jersey Shore is appalling, which is mostly its appeal, but it can also be funny, irreverent and breezily dimwitted--which is the rest of the appeal.

This is a show that can't escape the shackles of that old mismatched-buddy-cop formula, even if one of them does happen to drive a cab.

The show proceeds at gale force, demolishing logic, plot, meaning and (most of all) pleasure in its path.

Narration clunkily tries to fill the narrative void. But it's blandly delivered.

Absent a compelling core romance, and absent a passably beast-like beast, you're left with a sodden police procedural.