Both Paulson and Vance are Emmy-worthy. The miniseries is, too, primarily because it makes us care about a story that once seemed impossible to escape.

By the time You, Me and the Apocalypse” starts making sense, you’ve either abandoned it or forgotten to watch it.

Sure, the show’s live sound was spotty in parts (too many lines were inaudible) but its energy was right where it needed to be, particularly in the big dance numbers.

It’s looser--and smarter--and it could just make believers out of those who never joined the conversation in the first place.

Through the limited series’ run, guilt is passed like a basketball. Sexual orientation, economic disparity and other headline-grabbing issues get their turn at attention. Best of all, Ridley works with a repertory company of sorts which gamely assume new roles.

Like a gentler Monty Python venture, Galavant pokes, prods and pummels current events. It doesn’t get down and dirty, but it isn’t afraid to wallow every now and then. When it does so with a little song and dance, there’s enough fun to last longer than 30 minutes.

All too often, though, this looks like a “Saturday Night Live” skit that doesn’t quite land.

It’s better than an unadvertised special and more fun than a deep discount on Black Friday.

The costumes, sets, choreography and makeup were incredible. And newcomer Shanice Williams as Dorothy? Outstanding. The only problem? The show was so packed with commercials the actors barely sang a song and it was time to cut to five or six ads. As a result, the story (what little there was) was impossible to track.

Directed by David Semel, the first episode (now available on Amazon) sets a visual tone that immediately sets this apart from other thrillers.... By the second episode, you’ll want to know who’s really good and who’s bad and how the latter will meet their untimely deaths.

While Getting On might seem confining--and hardly funny--it’s one of the best workplace comedies on television. Like both versions of “The Office,” it embraces stray looks, asides and slyly funny commentary.

It recalls some of the better standup specials of the past decade. It hits on those R-rated topics she’s good at addressing and it lets her weigh in on the problems women face in Hollywood.

It’s involving--and just the series to keep your mind off the snow that's lurking. Fargo's still a prime TV destination.

The joy, though, is listening to Roberts’ Chanel Oberlin bark at her minions and security officer Denise Hemphill (a brilliant Niecy Nash) savor the show’s writing. They’re funny in a fresh, interesting way that fits nicely with Murphy’s social commentary.

Co-creators Bill Prady and Bob Kushell have given the gang the right setting. Now, they just need to figure out how they fit in a selfie-driven world. Newer Muppets like Pepe the King Prawn do better than veteran ones.

Eager to please, Colbert did a few comic bits at the outset (two product placement pieces fell flat) and got plenty of mileage out of Donald Trump. But his best moments were planned ones.... Too often, though, Colbert seemed like a dad trying to be hip with his kids’ friends.

Robinson is still appealing, but he’s surrounded by a gaggle of sitcom stereotypes.

First Day of Camp’s success depends on your love for the original film and your willingness to sit through some comedic dry spells before you hit a gusher. It isn’t Old Faithful. It’s just a chance to rekindle old times.

While I Am Cait appears determined to be a noble endeavor, its producers shouldn’t feel obligated to teach every time out.

Masters of Sex is highly watchable, not fact. If you understand that, you’re going to enjoy it much more.

Cute conceptually, the comedy falls short when director Jake Szymanski searches for ways to fill the time. Dumb on-court antics (including sex with two streakers) don’t really live up to the Christopher Guest ambitions of the rest of the film.

While the past few TV seasons have had more than a few robot shows, this one bears watching, largely because it doesn’t insist there’s a “robots are good” or “robots are bad” way of thinking.

Astronaut Wives moves as fast as a beach novel, covers more territory than a history book. But it’s history channeled through a distinct lens. The first episode was slow to launch, but the series could take off once we figure out who’s McSteamy and who’s McDreamy.

The sharpness of Season One gives way to the moodiness of Season Two. And, thus far (three episodes were made available), it’s hard to get a bead on where this is headed.

This isn’t connect-the-dots storytelling. It’s a blast from the past that reminds us when cop shows succeeded because they were built on great writing.

Although it’s two hours long, Going Clear speeds by.... Mesmerizing? If you’ve had even a passing interest in Scientology, Going Clear will fascinate in ways you never thought possible.

Corden isn’t as facile as Fallon, but he also isn’t as fawning. Instead of bringing guests out one at a time, he bunched them (a good move) but didn’t have enough experience to pull both into all conversations.

When the second bananas nudge the top ones, The Comedians has laughs. When it leaves the two to play out a tired game of “The Sunshine Boys,” they vanish.