Still smart, still good, still fun, Human Target remains one of TV's best comic books.

The appealing cast valiantly tries to hack its way through the dense underbrush of jokes about frats and testicles and cannabis. But the harder they hack, the hackier it all becomes. Before long, the jungle has won. The show, and viewer, have lost.

The show is scattered, slight and abominably self-promotional. But Michaels is so full of abundant - and infectious - good cheer that you tend to overlook these many faults. Fans will eat it up.

In Treatment deftly picks up where it left off--midpoint in the journey of Paul Weston's soul--and reminds us why we took this trip with him in the first place. The new cast is superlative, Bryne is intoxicating, and Ryan is an especially excellent addition. Bon voyage.

Cumberbatch and star British producers Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss ("Doctor Who") have performed quite a remarkable feat here--they've created something unique and pleasurable where so many have trod before.

Forgive the pun, but this brass needs polishing. The Green/Burgess team is one of TV's best and we hope they'll make this show as sharp and compelling as it should be.

Like "Mad Men," Wife has an obsessive attention to detail; it's a hurricane of detail, in the visual touches, legal patter and the actors' unspoken flourishes. Nothing seems extraneous or out of place. Also like "Men," this show cares as much about silence as words, or that which isn't said (also a form of eloquence).

Unfortunately, one show's a classic, the other a near knockoff. Nevertheless, Poehler's still got plenty of appeal here.

Maybe the problem with CBS' new Sunday popcorn movie "Mayday" isn't that it could be better. It actually could be worse. Then this would be deliriously mockable trash instead of an occasionally gripping but mostly frustratingly loony piece of hooey.

Housewives fans will enjoy the show but might tire of seeing yet another cast of wealthy, self-indulgent women. It might be time to change it up.

This teacher can be loquacious--oh yeah--but he's got a big heart, too. Danza, Northeast and A&E deserve credit for this series.

Proceed with caution into this foul but funny cauldron of catastrophe.

The new detectives seem so young, eager and fresh-faced that you almost think the Hardy Boys are on the case. Molina's Morales has a bit of that nice New York edge; Howard 's Dekker (in next week's episode) is a little stuffier, duller; he'd probably be better suited to "Law & Order: D.C."

Family is a trifle--part comic book, part kids' show--that is perfectly pleasant but without edge, bite or dramatic heft. With Chiklis aboard, it's like witnessing a concert pianist execute an elaborate version of "Chopsticks."

Sunday's episode is a necessary decompression episode after last season's intense finale.

As awful as $#*! My Dad Says is, you almost detect an ember of promise here. Maybe it's Shatner--whom we will always love, no matter what--or maybe it's an illusion. But CBS needs to blow some life into that ember before it's too late. Maybe it already is.

Though American tastes are mocked here, too, laughing at your own group doesn't necessarily excuse laughing at others.

While it's nice to see a show that isn't cops/docs/lawyers, it'd be nicer if the show was better.

These actors are serious sitcom pros, and their show is actually about something genuine--sibling bonding/rivalry, parental button-pushing, relationship-building. It's nice to see some emotional meat in a live-audience staging again, feeding off the energy and reactions of real people.

The show is an old-fashioned courtroom procedural, but the pilot has enough sharp writing and well-greased plot twists to suggest future promise.

"Undercovers" is so content to lapse into genre conventions, that it feels complacent and banal. Worse, Kodjoe and Mbatha-Raw have such minimal chemistry that they seem to be shadowboxing most of the time.

The Whole Truth equals " Law & Order: The Next Generation." It's still just a little too overeager and needs to mature.

Absent the overworked conceit of actors glancing at the camera to register annoyance or irony, this has turned into just another well-produced cop show with some excellent actors, like Imperioli or James McDaniel, who plays Det. Jesse Long and played Lt. Arthur Fancy on "NYPD Blue."

There's not a whiff of actual life here, no grounding character like "Arrested Development's" Jason Bateman . There's just frantic, false and tiresome.

Garcia's single-camera editing amplifies the comedy inherent, rather than being a crutch to create it. And the casting here is as good as "Earl," which is saying something--even if Leachman goes a bit off the rails as wacked-out "mamaw."

Second-season expectations for Glee are almost too high. Potential reality series, movies, spinoffs, tours, record contracts...the surround sound that's jacked up around this hit is now officially deafening. Unrelenting distractions can push series off their game, and there's evidence tonight Glee is off its game.

This is an excellent remake featuring two actors--Caan and O'Loughlin--who almost seem made for each other.

Let's say Lone Star has its work cut out for it, and so does Wolk. His portrayal is too nice--too romantic, too good-hearted, too bland--to make Allen interesting, or at least convincing.