“Winning Time” is an Adam McKay (“Don’t Look Up,” “The Big Short,” “Anchorman”) production and it’s a rowdy mix of quick cuts, famous names, salty scenes and frenetic energy. The casting is just delicious. ... This one’s got a lot of bounce in it. Again, Big fun.

Blessed with a sharp cast that includes John Turturro and Christopher Walken as senior innies, “Severance,” which is produced and mostly directed by Ben Stiller, manages to adeptly juggle the grim and the giggly (melon ball party, anyone?). More importantly, it never fails to entertain. In the end it leaves you begging for more. Always a good sign.

"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.

"jeen-yuhs" is a vital document on how we got this far.

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.

"The Woman in the House..." suffers from pacing issues and is stretched painfully thin at eight episodes (some as brief as 22 minutes), although it might have worked better as a movie, with the absurdity heightened, the fat trimmed and a more clear comic tone.

“The Afterparty” runs in too many directions at once and as a result never gets anywhere in particular.

Baranski is a goddess of acerbic condescension, but that can only go so far, and Coon’s quest to become as big a snob as her neighbors doesn’t exactly qualify as inspirational. Still, it sparkles and is highly watchable.

"Peacemaker" is guilty of taking itself not seriously enough. At least it has a sense of humor, too bad it's limited to the level of limericks scrawled on the inside of bathroom stalls.

"Cheer" depicts the turmoil of high competition and the double-edged sword of fame. And it lays out what makes the world of cheerleading so addictive, both for its participants and for viewers.

Creator Sam Levinson always pushes further than most, shoving the desperation and disillusionment of a young and apparently mostly hopeless generation right in front of the camera. It’s strong stuff. It’s meant to be. “Euphoria” is its own kind of twisted high.

It’s “Veep” at a car company. You could do worse. The cast is strong and the characters become clear in the opening episodes. ... Early episodes are a bit loose, but creator Justin Sptizer knows workplace comedies.

"Yellowstone" has always been the kind of show that it seems like Sam Elliott should be in — in the series, Forrie J. Smith plays a senior ranch hand who looks like he could be Elliott's stunt double — so it's fitting that Sheridan has found a way to weave him into "Yellowstone's" DNA. "1883" is expansive enough to stand on its own, but its ties to the original series give it grounding. We know where it's eventually headed, but that doesn't take away from the journey of getting there.

Cavill remains fine as Geralt, with his absurd physique and long white hair. He has mastered the art of the humorous grunt and it’s still fun to watch him handily slaughter dozens of men at a time or take on some comic-book looking creature. But there was an audacity to this show’s first season that now seems buried beneath plot complications.

Mostly it’s a showcase for Colman, for that endlessly expressive face and her perfect line readings, for the humanity she draws on so easily. Watch it and marvel.

"Get Back" isn't for everyone, nor is it meant to be. But to Beatles obsessives, and they're a group that numbers in the millions and spans generations, "Get Back" is a holy grail, and it delivers.

A quick six-episode arc that’s fittingly preposterous and fully satisfying.

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.

John Cho deserves a better show. Not that “Cowboy Bebop” is awful. It isn’t. It’s just typical. ... It also doesn’t help that the dialogue is uneven and stilted at times. Smooth talking characters need to talk smoothly.

It doesn’t help that any dramatic tension is undercut by the first episode, which essentially gives away the entire plot. “The Shrink Next Door” is the dramatic equivalent of watching someone pull the wings off a fly.

When the dramatic scenes work, especially in the opening episode directed by Duvernay, there’s a real family feel. But later episodes can come off too earnest and scripted, veering toward the afterschool special feel of yore. ... But this series is about spirit and perseverance and cultural chasms and race. It’s the sort of thing that should be shown in schools and probably will be, to the benefit of all.

Maybe all these different storylines are going to meet up, maybe they’re all going to keep wandering around. It will take great patience to find out which.

The third season of “Succession” spends an awful lot of time waiting for something to happen and in the seven episodes (out of nine) offered for review nothing much does.

“Maid” shines a warm, personal light on all this while telling a story that’s enlightening and entertaining. It’s never really heavy-handed but it can be exhausting. It should be.

“Foundation” jumps back and forth in time and from one world to another as it breaks into myriad storylines. It does initially seem a bit too enthralled with bloated world-building but things pick up as they splinter.

“Midnight Mass” moves from slow-burn to absolute fireball. Creepy becomes gory and then goes bonkers. The final two episodes of this seven-episode show are both hard to watch and impossible not to watch.

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.

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.