The writers' apparent priority is to place the adults in trite situations with sexual overtones.

Home Movies meanders, but patient viewers will be amused.

Crass Peter's couch-potato tendencies give MacFarlane the pretext for one quick TV spoof after another, and some of them are hilarious. I find these satirical flights far funnier than the frustrated schemes of Stewie Griffin, a sinister baby bent on world domination.

This looks like another clever, irreverent, cutting-edge animated comedy from creator Matt Groening.

Stewart is more likable and less self-satisfied than Kilborn, and the show's satire is smart enough to have real sting.

There are some laughs here... but too often even the eccentricity seems formulaic.

If [Metcalf's] character can develop into more than a foil, it may be worth tuning in to this show for a weekly update.

What I found in the first two shows was a lot of smart, pointed humor aimed at corporate bureaucracy, mendacity and absurdity. I didn't even notice till late in the second episode that the animation itself was something less than eye-popping.

The PJs can be plenty funny when it isn't crude and offensive—and even when it is.

It has intelligence and feeling and brutality. The Sopranos hits all the notes.

Kanakaredes is appealing, but the series is too fond of flaunting its eccentricity (Mom inhabits Syd's dreams), too short on authentic Providence atmosphere (despite some location filming) and too eager to remind us that the title also refers to God's will.

This season the writers have failed to get the most out of some promising situations.

While Hartman's comic mastery is sorely missed, Lovitz has earned his share of laughs with familiar tics and offbeat timing.

Alternating—or rather, wavering—between frightening and funny, the show has yet to establish a clear identity beyond its-status as a post-teenage teammate of The WB's popular Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

The problem with this new series is not the star's performance but the writers' unwillingness to take the character far enough.

Millennium ... has grown more pretentious and less coherent with each new installment.

For this series to work, the main character—and the star's acting skills—must show signs of growth.

Not too original, but the cast makes this King more than a commoner.

We're betting that with experience, this inconsistent show can find a way to win.

Piven is an irresistible force—mercurial, mischievous and impossibly glib.

Russell has an unassuming sort of star quality that draws us to her character, and the writing in the pilot is sensitive without being soapy.

The show needs to guard against the cutesies ... and allow both principals to do more than talk about their sex lives.

The redeeming feature here is [Sallly] Wheeler, who makes her free-spirited character genuinely appealing.

The '70s Show has a jarringly '90s slacker sensibility. Still there are some very funny moments.

Whose Line overworks a limited number of ideas (enough with those takeoffs on The Dating Game), and the quality slips when Carey joins in the improv fun at the end of each show.

There is a tiresome similarity to the plots: In almost every episode our plucky heroes are captured by the reigning totalitarian regime only to be rescued by the local resistance group.

Parker is appealing as always, but watching the show is an empty diversion—like scanning a gossip column about people who don't exist.

The opener, which Hanks himself directed, bogs down with tedious "Can we do this?" conferences ... Part 2, however, soars.