Although the first episodes of the new season lack the snap and sizzle of the first season’s sexual discoveries, the air of indecision that haunts the show feels both accurate and unique.

Like "The Simpsons," "Married with Children," "Malcolm in the Middle" and other Fox sitcoms, the ridiculous reach is what makes "The Mick" work.

Simply put, Smallville is super. A new spin on the modern myth of Superman, it's part action series, part teen romance and part high school drama, done with superior production values and featuring an array of new faces that could quickly become familiar. [16 Oct 2001]

This is a disaster movie writ large for TV and the simple fact is, it works despite some none-too-subtle turns. You can’t help being enthralled by a story you wouldn’t want to be a part of.

As summertime smarmy yarns go, American Gothic holds promise.

Turn becomes more tense with each episode, at least through the first three, and that’s a very good sign.

Even though Loki delivers his usual subservience-is-freedom speeches and has bouts of self-analysis, the touch here is pretty light. Hiddleston is a wonderfully physical comic actor, all twitches and muttered asides, and Wilson offers a casual contrast to Loki’s royal airs.

This is all in the name of torch-passing, handing off the role of Hawkeye from Renner to Steinfeld, and it's more exciting, one supposes, than doing it in a press release. But just like Hawkeye himself, nothing here feels essential.

The high production values and the series' ability to pivot its storytelling — the third episode is a lovely and quite moving distraction from the main plot — keep it fresh, even as the show's familiarities and the rudimentary bickering between characters ("you sure do ask a lot of questions!" Joel crankily remarks to Ellie, as he'd rather walk in silence) ring all sorts of bells.

The tone here is David Lynch meets David Cronenberg meets Quentin Tarantino, moody and heightened in the early episodes, then ever more weird and gory. It all hinges on Salazar and treatises may be written on her huge, expressive eyes, which jump between angered, exhausted, erotic and (repeatedly) horrified.

The eight-part miniseries, a BBC co-production that begins Saturday on Starz, is handicapped a bit by its overly hotheaded protagonist, played by James Nesbitt. But if his access as a grieving father to crime scenes and witnesses often seems a bit preposterous, the story's many side alleys and turnabouts serve as ample distraction.

Instead of being seriously macabre, it goes for broad satire, although it certainly has its gory moments. It’s an odd mash-up that leaves little room for real connection to the characters, having faith instead in laughs and blood. Then again, laughs and blood have a good track record.

It leaves some questions hanging and spins on a bit when it comes to trans history, but “The Lady and the Dale” is undeniably a gas.

Surprisingly, it pretty much all works. The dark secrets (there are many) balance with the apparent fluff, making for an engaging, never-dull series. Maybe the Gilmore Girls should have had guns.

It’s all very silly, but there’s bite beneath some of the yuks.

A sprawling look at the gay liberation movement in the U.S. during the past five decades, spread over eight hours, featuring an abundance of talent, occasionally too earnest, at times heartbreaking, and pretty much always eminently watchable.

One of the producers here is Jason Katims ("Friday Night Lights,” “Parenthod”) and the warm familial intimacy of his previous shows flows through “Away.” The cast is uniformly strong and there’s a reason Swank has two Oscars. “Away” isn’t great but it is unique, and that’s good enough.

It takes some soapy turns in season two, and Carell’s character can seem stranded in limbo, but this is big starry television about big starry television that dares you to look away. Tune in.

"Pam & Tommy" doesn't make fun of them or their relationship, but shows it for what it is: a match made in the stars. James' physical transformation is astounding (she's aided considerably by prosthetics), and she finds the warmth within Pam, the naïve small town girl with dreams that perhaps outweighed her talents. Stan is clearly going for it in the role of Tommy, and he softens some of the rocker's harder features and less desirable traits; he makes him lovable.

Hauser doesn’t set out to overwhelm. In fact, his monster is all the more scary because he’s so low key and obviously demented. But he has so much there that all else seems commonplace.

Creators Amanda Peet and Annie Wyman keep the show loose enough for cute side storylines — David Duchovny! — but never let things wander aimlessly. With six quick episodes they offer a glimpse at the absurdities of modern academic life and cultural sensitivities, while also dancing on romantic comedy notes. Nice.

The series looks promising, if puzzling.

At first you’re rolling your eyes at what seems an absurd stretch of a premise, but soon enough you’re buying its always-on-edge predicaments and after a few episodes you’re hooked into its story-upon-story acrobatics. Pete may be sneaky, but he’s not dull.

It holds together as myriad characters come and go thanks to strong turns by Kazan as a sister driven to find out the truth about her brother, and Gabriel, as a wife who finds her reality in tatters. They are the anchors who keep this dervish series grounded.

Morally and historically significant, emotionally wrenching and politically terrifying, The Normal Heart is more important than artful, and that’s just fine.

Obviously all four friends are constantly on the verge of disaster because, well, who isn’t? That Delpy and Landeau spin their stories with a mix of humanity and absurdity is, again, both impressive and righteously French. C’est bon.

The proliferation of characters can be disorienting and super-Bibb is criminally underused, but “Jupiter’s Legacy” works for the most part if your idea of entertainment leans that way. Glittering costumes, eyes that shoot laser beams, explosions and destruction galore. That’s entertainment circa 2021.

It’s all a bit fuzzy, but then it’s all in good fun. Television has plenty of room for strong female characters.