None of these [Dick Wolf Chicago] shows are groundbreaking. All have dialogue is lumpy. But for viewers who crave the familiar, there is something comforting about attractive people saving the day.

What’s initially arresting about the concept remains unfulfilled after the pilot, and while it’s understandable that the producers needed to first establish its central characters, Dash and Vega aren’t particularly well-drawn thus far, creating a concern that this show will be more interesting theoretically than it is dramatically.

Simmons pushed back on Barkley’s rankings, as only a true fan can. It’s this informed jousting, the back and forth between devotees of sports that could make Any Given Wednesday appointment viewing for sports fans. ... It’s classic Bill Simmons, a man with questions and answers, with a new forum where he can drop the mic and let others do the same.

Its kindly spirit and those performances [from Graynor, Hansen and Grier] help prevent Bad Teacher from falling into the increasingly raunchy trap of its network predecessor, “Two and a Half Men.”

Instead of being nags or props, the female costars on this series are just as fleshed out and funny as their male counterparts, and the comedy is all the better for it.

It is a refreshing amalgamation of the two genres that creates a fascinating exploration into the world of four-color comics by imagining what it might really be like to live among costumed superheroes and villains.

While there may be some hidden truths in the intended comedy, the scenes often come across as judgemental and ill-conceived.

There’s plenty of action, but it comes across as muddled and at least so far is failing to serve the intrigue.

Happish is impressive as it convincingly drives themes of selling, selling out, anger, whoredom, mortality and the true meaning of happiness--and whether it’s even attainable--drawing upon established talents such as Ellen Barkin, Carrie Preston, Molly Price and Andre Royo. They provide Coogan, Hahn and Whitford with great foils and sounding boards for both the mundane and serious matters addressed.

The bits of writing with real teeth are crowded out by a generally broader and more winking comedy style and pacing that seems to be anticipating more laughter than the material could reasonably expect.

Both Johnson and Valleta recognize the script for what it needs--a quirked eyebrow here, a glower held a bit longer than usual there--and tip the story in their favor as the down-and-dirty version of Frank and Claire Underwood. Crawford and Rittenhouse are so busy trawling for sympathy that they barely register.

Will you care about this group of upscale suburban neighbors? Probably not. Will you be pulled into their web of interconnected secrets and lies? Possibly. Will you be treated to various shots of brooding Ryan Phillippe jogging, sweating and showing off his aforementioned abs? Definitely. Is that enough to keep you watching? Maybe.

Ultimately, once viewers overcome the sluggish pace there’s something for everyone with Marco Polo. History lovers will enjoy Googling along with the series as historical names and battles are introduced while martial arts fans will appreciate the intricately choreographed fight scenes. Although the series isn’t as riveting as “Game of Thrones,” strong performances and impeccable visuals make it worthy of a watch on a slow and rainy afternoon.

With The Royals, E! has a juicy soap opera that’s addictive, naughty and just the right amount of silly.

Other than presenting Kazinsky with the late holiday gift of a starring role, there’s not much else to Second Chance. The twins feel as if they’ve been grafted onto the plot from another series, while DeKay’s sole note for much of the first few episodes is pissed off. Other shows have tackled estranged fathers and sons better.

It sounds gimmicky and completely set up, but with this bunch it works.

Maybe over time Roadies will settle into a groove, but as of now it’s yet to find its rhythm.

The show is satirizing smug, middle-class white folks who resent any threat to their status quo, but the only viewpoints presented on Bordertown are those of smug, middle-class white folks and smug, middle-class liberals who resent the white folks’ resentment.

It’s a wonder Spike didn’t position Tut as an angst-filled teen drama. Kingsley steps in to ensure that doesn’t happen despite the production’s occasional seemingly period-inappropriate detail--jarring neon hair extensions and the like.

If Biblical-style fantasy is your bag, then its for you, but audiences who have feminist leanings will find the number of times the women are--as with too many Bible tales--called whores and prostitutes extremely grating.

Not fun enough to be trashy and not resonant enough to make you care.... Lordy, is it silly--and worse, it lacks the wit or sharp self-awareness to own up to its campiness or help make its melodramatic elements more palatable.

[Conviction] is a mess from beginning to end, full of clichéd characters and confusing rules.

The machine behind this effort needs to invest in even its smallest moving parts whose misfires can snatch a savvy “CSI” viewer right out of the Cyber realm; weak performances from bit players, leaps in logic or just plain by-the-numbers writing à la “This is where we introduce the character by providing some expository dialogue that the lead character will dismiss with ‘You always say that’ in words or actions.”

An overly jokey screenplay that lacks the sharpness of Allen’s best work. And the problem is also Allen, who has largely stopped acting in his own movies. As Sidney, he can be lovably doddering and still delivers the occasional quip with style. But more often, he’s the least compelling character on screen.

Watching the first hour of Hand of God, the performances are solid but the shocking moments fail to connect dramatically.

Though it has some slick car chases, The Player lacks the wit, ingenuity and originality to inspire curiosity about what’s going to happen next.

Most of what has made Harris a beloved fixture of live telecasts has been eradicated in this misguided attempt at revising the variety show format.

The writing does no one any favors, failing even to make the most of Alfre Woodard as president.

The show doesn’t cover new ground, but it gets a passing grade for being competent within the overly familiar territory of the spy genre.

There is some chemistry between Perry and Lennon that I’d expect to grow on later episodes. But, it’s tough to say since comedies need some time for the cast to find their footing.

The pilot, which debuts Tuesday and introduces Dana (Analeigh Tipton) a serial monogamist and Peter (Jake McDorman, “Greek”) as a serial dater, is full of antiquated cliches better suited for a romantic comedy from 30 years ago.... If viewers stick around for the second episode, which airs next week, they will grow to like the show and the oddball way this unlikely pair start down the road to romance.

For every charming and genuinely funny moment--and there is a fair amount--there is a lazy sitcom trope that stunts Mr. Robinson and depletes it of its promise.

Bull is certainly a light, breezy offering that could help you unwind after a long Tuesday. But if you’re looking for something with a little more meat and meaning, you’re going to have to visit another courtroom.

Comfort food television is a necessary and worthwhile product, but MacGyver is so bland it’s not even fun for a Friday night in.

The live studio audience is just in your face laughing at the most unfunny, hit the ground with a thud, jokes being thrown left and right by a cast that should know how to deliver their lines better.... It doesn't really get funny until the third episode

Walsh is a fantastic actress with a wide range of talents, including comedy, but none of them were on display here. While there is potential in the concept of a respected judge on the bench who is a hard-partying reprobate in her personal life, NBC failed to find it in this dud.

At its worst, Rosewood plays like the kind of ridiculous, over-the-top drama with which a sitcom character becomes obsessed. At its best, it offers its audience the chance to feel smarter than its characters.

Alas, some of the dialogue is extremely problematic, and the jokes tired.... but the action keeps moving, and there are enough glimmers of freshness to keep the show entertaining and warrant another viewing.

Unfortunately, by the end of the first hour, viewers may find themselves looking for a pulse rather than committing to future installments, let alone pondering the state of female medical practitioners in the industry and their work-home life balance.

[A] thoughtfully lighthearted and frothy comedy.

Chemistry wasn’t the problem with either version of the pilot. Indeed both actresses are fine in the role, as is LeBlanc; it’s the show itself that could use some work.

There are so many self-satisfied references to the off-screen lives of the stars and what’s happened to them in the intervening years, you might sometimes think you’re watching a “Saturday Night Live” skit version of the show.

The bar for quality is set pretty low. But this entry, unlike the previous “Save by the Bell” exposé, does nothing to justify its own existence.

Despite noticeable efforts to play Kent and Betty as wounded, troubled people with murderously kinky bedroom predilections, Westwick and Christensen’s stunted, one-note characters seem better suited as reenactments on an Investigation Discovery true-crime program than a prime-time series.

On “Curb,” audiences can relate to life’s minutia as dissected by its lead, as he tackles everything from rude manners to a bloated sense of self. Donny! is more difficult to relate to, but at just six episodes, that might be OK.

It’s like the writers are just throwing ideas on a wall to see what sticks. Nothing about this pilot feels finely tuned or carefully constructed. It’s a shame, actually, given the great chemistry between Perabo and Sunjata in the first place.

Despite a handful of great performances, this small-screen drama is a forgettable, overly publicized splash in the pan unworthy of the woman it earnestly but clumsily attempts to honor.

Unfortunately, the pilot is awkwardly written, so the cast doesn’t quite mesh.

The show’s other players gently orbit Jeong’s bright star and are sometimes scorched by his flares of humor in an otherwise formulaic sitcom with its canned laughter and bright, uniformly lit set.

It is difficult to separate The Leisure Class from "Project Greenlight," and that’s probably to the film’s benefit, since it can’t stand up on its own. It’s a farce that’s not particularly farcical, a dark comedy with little humor, a screwball caper that wants to suggest great films of yesteryear without giving its own plotting and details the attention they need to work in that style. Everything feels undercooked.

Sure, one could argue that other primetime series such as Criminal Minds and Law & Order: Special Victims Unit dabble in what is best described as torture porn. But there is something especially nihilistic about Stalker ... and the way it handles violence against women.

Girlfriend’s Guide to Divorce is worth watching this season because Marti Noxon and company are moving beyond Abby’s first taste of sexual freedom and addressing more of the harsh realities divorce entails. The guest casting alone makes the show watchable and Lisa Edelstein’s Abby continues to be an engaging, appealing catalyst for the show’s stories.

She’s an experienced stand-up comedian with a quick wit and a sharp tongue to go with it. Not Safe proves she’s ready to topline a show.

Only mildly amusing and tending toward broad, obvious gags, this Fox late-night program, which is executive produced by the Lonely Island, could develop and grow in confidence over time. But for now, there’s not much life to this Party.