“Outer Range” is a complete mess: Senseless, pretentious, purposely obscure and wasteful.

Mamet is known for tight, pointed dramas, and he holds true to his rep here, creating a mystery, procedural and character study all in one.

Watching Shooter as a series is like falling back into a well-known and familiar story, just one with lots of guns. It’s downright comfortable. And that’s odd.

[A] promising mix of urban decay, moral corruption and brutal betrayal that’s likely to fuel Sun.

Handled correctly, this has “Lost” potential.

One Child spends too much time running in place--which may reflect China’s inert bureaucracy, but falls short of riveting viewing.

All these characters manage to work, at least in a broadcast-show way. This is mostly because of Mixon’s constant narration and commentary; she’s offering a sarcastic-neurotic voiceover on her own absurd life.

Whether viewers will feel too challenged by Ellie to smile along remains to be seen. Hopefully they won't; TV needs crazy-vain-brave risk-takers badly. [26 Feb 2002]

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.

What starts off as a lusty and dewy-eyed dance between lovers quickly turns into a taut game of cat and mouse more titillating than the pair’s pending nuptials. Enos and Krause have palpable chemistry.

Langford (“Knives Out,” “13 Reasons Why”) is effective if not exceptional, somewhat mirroring the entire enterprise. The gore quotient here runs high, but unlike “Thrones” and “The Witcher” there is no underlying erotic throb fueling things and humor is scarce.

The unexpected moves keep things feeling shinier than they are, and that’s the magic balancing act “Mr. Corman” attempts. Life may be disappointing but it’s also amusing and sweet and wonderfully odd. “Mr. Corman” dares to be honest.

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.

Gripes aside, "The Comey Rule" is a frightening and timely look at recent history and its repercussions. Actors will no doubt be biting into the role of Trump for years to come, but to top Gleeson they'll have to do a a heck of a lot of chewing.

As well-engineered, demographically balanced and ethnically diverse as this show is, it’s still pretty daffy how it cuts back and forth between sun and fun and drug wastoids and gangstas.

The warm and goofy and topical camaraderie of that show [“Sex and the City”] is nowhere apparent here. Nor are any laughs. There are no actual laugh lines here, just lines that let you know they were supposed to be funny. It is, in essence, a romantic picture postcard comedy show without any comedy (or much romance for that matter).

Cliches bounce off one another in a slick combination of gallows humor, inspirational bonding, deep thoughts and maudlin moments.

What next? An unholy alliance between Aquaman's niece and the Thing's second cousin? "Birds of Prey" is for the birds. [9 Oct 2002, p.1D]

Alliances are made and broken, power shifts go this way and that, blood is spilled, and wenches keep wenching. It’s oddly addictive, and the cast--made up mostly of British, Australian and Canadian actors--is as sharp as you’d expect from pay cable.

So, basically, this is a drug-fueled Sherlock Holmes situation, although Brian does something so monumentally stupid while supposedly in his smart state at the show’s beginning that it comes close to undermining the show’s premise. Luckily McDorman, who appeared in “American Sniper” with Cooper, has an easygoing charm that helps right the boat.

There’s tons of pseudo-scientific cyberpunk gobbledygook, of course, but Smith keeps things moving and pretense falls to the wayside. ... “The Peripheral” is dead center fun.

The pitch here can be shrill. The warden makes Satan look like a nice guy, and Gil has a temper that can be wearying. But the essential tension--who will finally tell the truth? everybody is lying to somebody--makes for compelling, if exhausting, drama.

Based on the novel by Kristin Hannah, “Firefly Lane” is so efficient it nearly takes the guilt out of guilty pleasure.

Rhimes brings in familiar faces from other Shondaland shows, travels to exotic places, has Anna strut about in all manner of glitzy outfits — Anna loves to shop — and generally offers up solid modern TV entertainment. But a tighter, more succinct work would have lived up to Garner’s performance.

As actors, Stanford and Schull have to convince TV audiences that they are not dishing out reheated versions of the performances Bruce Willis and Madeleine Stowe did in the original. Thankfully, that's not the case and these two actors are quite compelling as a couple of lost souls trying desperately to make things right.

The level of profanity here would likely give any real life vice principal a heart attack, and Gamby’s stupidity is world class. Eventually you realize he’s just a lonely, sad jerk in need of validation. Comedy, you’ll recall, is just tragedy upside down.

"Devil" is one of Netflix’s light-horror excursions, nothing too gory or sexy. ... It’s messy TV but, really, you can’t go too wrong with devil worshipers.

The Messengers seems far-fetched, even by [The CW's] standards.