It isn't consistently funny--and it definitely isn't as daring or groundbreaking as advertised.

The M&Ms are brutal and might have set Monday Mornings apart as a psychological examination of regret and human error. But in the three episodes sent for review, producers David E. Kelley and CNN chief medical correspondent Dr. Sanjay Gupta (adapting this from his 2012 novel) instead overdose on the same sappy storylines we've seen before.

It's often dull and heavy-handed. Rhys Meyers is burdened with purposefully heightened dialogue that sounds silly at times. His Dracula is meant to be irresistible, but he's just plain creepy.

It's dark, disturbing and a little downbeat--which isn't a dis at all.

It's epic, hilarious and totally tasteless.

A show about a hot gay couple who are both cops would have been a lot more interesting than the umpteenth light police procedural USA has delivered.

The movie holds these men and women up as heroes, but it makes them rather bland cardboard cutouts.

Reign isn't half bad at times with its marvelous costumes, palace intrigues and Follows' delicious take on Catherine. But the minute you start getting into fantasy, you're yanked right out by the contemporary music and other oddities—like a montage of giggling gals putting on makeup.

All in all, A Royal Romance offers some OK acting of a dull story.

The premise is fascinating enough to keep viewers' attention, if only to see what numbers Charlie will spin next. But some kinks need to be worked out before "Numb3rs" will add up.

The only thing that separates this bland cop drama from others is that Gloria is also a divorced single mom with two kids who lives with her recovering drug abuser but looks-good-in-a-towel brother (Chris Payne Gilbert).

Both believable and appealing as the hard-bitten homicide investigator, Lehman provides the only real motive for tuning in.

The office gang from Free Agents is anything but funny.

BFF uses the most obvious male-female cliches.

"Law & Order" mastermind Dick Wolf doesn't blaze any new trails with his latest effort, but at least he's getting out of the courtroom and precinct house.

Johnston, Faison, Knight and Basche have their moments, but more often than not they hammer the jokes home, mugging insufferably as they do so.

Salem as a whole reflects the difference in the work of West and Montgomery. Yet its wildly uneven premiere has enough going for it to make me watch at least another episode.

Nothing has really changed.

[Todd Ray's] passion for the peculiar is praiseworthy, and erases any misgivings that the venture is exploitation at its most blatant. Still it's not that easy to watch a guy called Morgue stick a hook in his nose until it comes out his mouth.

Marco Polo flits between storytelling styles without completely tying them together as successfully as "Game of Thrones" does.... By the fifth and sixth episodes the action picks up, the intrigue deepens and the stakes some higher.

Everything feels like a put-on; nothing seems plausible.

Seems to me she's [Alana's mother June is] desperate to stay in the spotlight. And all I can say to that is, "Honey, bye-bye."

Unlike "Archer" or "Sunny" or FX's "The League" and "Wilfred," Unsupervised refuses to go for the throat. And that makes it unfunny.

Some might say the show is overstuffed with stories, but I had no problem following the various strands, even if some were less interesting than others.

Much of the writing here is dreadful; scenes go nowhere while thinly developed characters pop in and out of the action--although there is little action early on.

Chozen will get more compelling once it focuses on that feud over loutish buffoonery and references to prison sex--which aren't that funny even the first five times they're made. For now, though, it simply mines the gay rapper premise for cheap laughs.

Anger Management is a colossally wasted opportunity for both Sheen and FX.

Get on The Client List only to see some ripped abs; everything else is nonsense.