With Horace and Pete, [Louis C.K.'s] ambitions can sometimes outrace his execution, but the commitment of his cast to a consciously old-fashioned kind of drama reminiscent of Arthur Miller and Eugene O’Neill makes the pilot exciting even when it’s a bit stilted.

24: Live Another Day does action scenes really well, but the dialogue suffers: It can be overly melodramatic and expository.

Marriage and its trials and tribulations emerge as something of its own character as the show presses on.

After an exceedingly violent first episode, it eases up a notch, and the show is better for it.

Defined from the outset as a cheater, [Jean] comes across as pensive brat whose hot, supportive wife isn’t enough to keep him satisfied. Aside from his skills with bleach and a Q-tip, there’s very little so far that compels one to root for this hero to succeed. But that’s hardly a reason to dismiss the show entirely. There are some inventive twists and well-placed comic moments.

The plotting is pretty perfunctory, but McDorman wears the show’s hyperbolic intensity lightly, as if playfully mocking the hard-boiled self-seriousness around him. But he also brings pathos to Brian’s gnawing sense of failure.

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.

Into the Badlands may not have a ton of smarts, but so far it’s a twisty, agreeable distraction.

The exceptionally well-cast The Red Road starts well, but slips in the second episode.

It’s all wonderfully led by an unrecognizable Richard Dreyfuss in the leading role and Blythe Danner as his wife, Ruth.... Where Madoff falls short is in developing the man’s complex relationships with his sons, wife and those who beg him to take their money. While the narrative certainly scratches the surface, it’s not often that it delves any deeper as the writers choose instead to grandstand Dreyfuss’ performance as the leading man.

It’s exhaustive and it’s exhausting, and for a certain type of Beatles fan (like, I suspect, Jackson himself) it’ll be an irresistible delight. ... To embrace these near eight hours, you need to completely surrender to his pacing, to glory in every day of the Beatles’ sessions at Twickenham Studios and then at the smaller recording studio in the basement of their Apple headquarters. You may find yourself wishing that the boys would please shut up and play their instruments on a number of occasions, but the film clings to those endless conversations with the tenacity of McCartney trying to coax the right guitar line out of Harrison.

Following the firmly established formula, director Anthony C. Ferrante delivers predictably amped-up action and less camp on this third swipe at the chum bucket. But that doesn’t stop it from being a fun, if less hilarious, ride.

This resulting premiere is an offering that feels haphazardly stitched together--the audience often left pondering the relevance of each scene. By Episode 3 that pace and journey shift to relevant and thoughtful, but it sure is an exhaustive journey to finally get there.

By the end of its premiere, Selfie became a watchable show with actual potential. I'm just not sure most people will be able to hang in there that long to see it unfold.

This is an offering best served in small doses to really appreciate some of the nuances built into each episode.

There are some nice emotional touches here. Early on, we see both men grappling with mortality in believable ways: Murtaugh paying close attention to the heart monitor on his smartwatch, or Riggs hunkered down in self-medicated mourning. But they’re only touches, brief moments of departure from the original formula.

For all of its ambition, the drama feels lopsided at times because Winfrey, Whitfield, David and Dandridge’s performances are so dominate and riveting, they dwarf everything else. In order to compel viewers to keep coming back, Wright and company will have to either focus solely on the big four--more Oprah, please--or flesh out the ancillary portrayals so that they’re more distinctive.

It’s frustrating to watch these four men fumble every opportunity to straighten out the mess they descend ever deeper into.... But it’s worth giving Mad Dogs a chance to prove itself to the end of season one. If the action ramps up and the bickering dies down, these dogs could have a few more miles in them.

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.

For the most part the show works, and the parts that don’t may just be growing pains from anyone familiar with the old stuff. But one major concern keeps bubbling up: The original series had a lovingly dusty vaudevillian style, an affectionate throwback to a show business world from decades earlier, while this just feels like stuff from five years ago.

The entire two-hour pilot is parody, on top of parody, on top of parody. The sentences coming out of Chanel’s mouth are beyond anything a clichéd mean girl would utter in other high school or sorority movies, while every homage to films like Scream or Urban Legends is taken to the extreme. What makes it work is Murphy’s renowned world-building.

The fact that so much of the show relies on Oliver means he bears the burden of getting the tone exactly right. And right now, he's a little more angry than funny.

The “Rashomon”-style storytelling elevates the series from being just another conventional story about a middle-aged affair. But, that can't completely make up for overwrought moments in the opening episode.... But the biggest problem for The Affair is that neither Noah nor Alison is particularly appealing.

It’s Siff and Malin Ackerman, as Axe’s loyal wife (who’s like a sober Michelle Pfeiffer in “Scarface,” all sharp blonde bob and sharper tongue) who simply, by virtue of their talent, keep Billions from devolving into an exercise in white privilege and machismo, something it constantly threatens to do.

The best that can be said about The Magician thus far is that it has so many balls in the air that you’re tempted to stick with it just to see where it’s going. Even then, though, the show puts more stock in atmosphere and attitude than in distinguishing its characters or sci-fi fantasy terrain from those of comparable projects.

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.

The series once again attempts to pair the straight-shooter with the oddball muck-up in an attempt to allow both characters to find middle ground. In the process, hilarity ensues. Except when it doesn’t.

People of Earth earns kudos for going for the stars, but it also suffers from a failure to launch.