How to honor the memory of a beloved is its theme, or one of them. You can't get much more universal than that. Fine newcomer with excellent cast, and some universal themes.

This series has an underdog spirit of its own, even if it's not quite the triumphant crane kick it could be.

Exhaustive, admiring, comprehensive and richly documented, Bobby Kennedy for President nevertheless doesn't feel especially revelatory.

The central argument in Zimny’s loving, but unflinching documentary “Elvis Presley: The Searcher” is that his openness and inquisitive nature is what made him the King.

Blessedly for fans who don’t want to work so hard, less so for those wonks who do, the second season is much easier. It’s still brainy while managing to push the new narrative ahead hard and fast. It also manages to splatter the brains too: Westworld is now less a searing indictment of screen violence (the first season) and more a straight-up snuff series.

This second season is packed, but without getting too far into spoiler territory, fans can be assured that what's here feels exactly right.

Killing Eve can be violent and bloody, sometimes too violent and bloody, but get past that and an intriguing new antihero awaits.

A beauty to behold but an ice cube to hold, this Howards End never quite thaws.

Brilliant as ever, Pacino is the master trickster who manages to both demonize and humanize Paterno.

It was energetic (de rigeur), secular (usually is), handsomely staged (or scaffolded) and sonic (the louder the better). ... As Christ, John Legend was out-sung by Brandon Victor Dixon (Aaron Burr, “Hamilton”) who was Judas Iscariot, Norm Lewis (Caiaphas), Ben Daniels (Pontius Pilate) and Sara Bareilles (Mary Magdalene). But they out-sing everyone. Not a fair fight.

Decent pilot that promises a decent series--just not a particularly novel one.

The Last O.G. can’t help being a little sad because Morgan is a little sad, and it can’t help being a little funny because Morgan is Morgan. He so much as breathes and you laugh.

Thwarted by same-old sitcom scripting, full of adults’ childish bickering and laden with “irony” setups. ... The saving grace for the show, as for Alex, becomes his family. Through the first three episodes, they’re a nicely knit group with real chemistry and real concerns vs. the podcasts-for-dummies approach to his workplace.

As always, excellent.

There’s a thing called chemistry, which is little evident in the first few episodes here. Fischer and Hudson seem fine sparring, but not all that connected.

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.

Diaries is for Shandling fans, certainly, but it’s especially for any kid who might want to become a comic, or write for TV or get into this industry. “Zen Diaries” is a nearly five-hour-long master’s degree in “the business,” and also a sober, clear-eyed view of the risks as much as the rewards.

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

Swank--who arrives in the second episode--is the emotional core of Trust, also the only character with a functioning heart. In the early episodes, you never quite get to know her, and begin to wonder whether she’s worth the effort. But at least over those episodes, she is the reason to watch--the only one.

19 feels exactly like a Shondaland show, but far more like a crossover than a spinoff. There’s perhaps a bigger problem: NBC’s “Chicago Fire” already does this show and does it well.

By-the-numbers procedural with a pair of appealing leads. Otherwise, by-the-book bland.

The few “Spring Awakening” numbers are good, the cast is solid, but otherwise Rise falls flat.

Intelligent, sharply produced and respectful of its female characters, For the People looks like a winner.

The three judges are amiable, upbeat and gentle. They’re also incapable of criticism, either constructive or harsh. ... It’s a soft down pillow, a gentle bromide for turbulent times. Ageless, old-fashioned, congenial, reassuring.

Platinum-plated nonsense--but also self-aware enough to know just how nonsensical. Deception is mostly just a lot of fun.

Champions wants to be liked, and it is likable, but maybe just a little too eager to earn points.

Ritter’s Jessica Jones remains the most compelling, evocative and dynamic character in Netflix’s Marvel canon. A pity poor Jessica doesn’t think so.

It’s not fully baked, not by a mile, because Baldwin has launched with friends, or at least show biz friends, who admire him as much as he admires them. ... Nobody’s neutral about him, and their neutrality will be tested as much as his. The show’s potential will rise or fall in those edgy encounters when they come, and they certainly should. That passion could ultimately be Sunday’s chief asset.