What makes Jenny and Lola so likable is that they are resilient, brave and fully realized in ways the teenage girls in the nearly three-decade-old original were not.

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.

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.

Season 4 is so rich and dense with characters, backstories and subplots that some of its more interesting new additions remain mere teases. As always, the flashbacks remain the strongest aspects of the series.

Highlighted by a deliciously sleazy turn from Ellen Barkin, Animal Kingdom slowly finds its footing, but it remains to be seen whether the characters’ low-life machinations will produce sufficient drama to justify audiences’ patience.

The pacing in the early episodes can be uneven, and some plot points you see coming from a long way off. But BrainDead is promisingly original, a deft combination of the tropes of a horror movie, the pace of a forensic drama and the barbs of a political satire that’s thoroughly of the moment.

OJ: Made in America lays out of all the evidence patiently, giving all sides their due. It is eminently fair.

Outcast tries to maintain a sense of tension from episode to episode (only the first four have been made available to critics) but too many sags in the storytelling allow doubt to creep in.

Roots is at once a more intimate and explicit document than was its forerunner and no less compelling, if you can endure the harshness of the spectacle that accompanies it.

Jay Roach‘s smart direction and the brilliant script by Robert Schenkkan (adapted from his Tony-winning play) are essential to capturing the dynamics of an era and its principal players. Likewise, Bill Corso’s impressive make-up is indispensable to getting these historical characterizations just right. But the acting’s the thing, and there’s not a disappointing performance in this stellar ensemble cast.

[Amy Schumer] remains a potent original, torpedoing gender inequality and smartly dissecting cultural and sexual norms. And yet, Season 4 of the show also unconsciously struggles with heightened expectations.

At times Famuyiwa is so concerned with including the myriad supporting players that the film can be more of a competent procedural than a riveting, insightful exploration of a crucial moment in American politics. But those worries are mostly tempered by the slow reveal of the film’s true agenda.

In its seventh season, Archer remains as reliably funny and lovably immature as ever.

When stacked up against a series like “The Leftovers,” which also examines a cult, it feels flat at first. But once the story does finally get rolling, the intersecting elements begin to build towards a compelling story with more complexity than first meets the eye.

It’s heightened reality at its finest as Vaughan and her associates (Elvy Yost, Jay Hayden and Rollins) proceed to track down the con artists who hacked them and stop them before too much damage is done.

There are lots of juicy twists and some melodramatic intrigue, and Kerrigan and Seimetz execute them with nicely chilly precision. But The Girlfriend Experience is at its best when it puts aside plot machinations to deliver a sympathetic but clear-eyed portrait of a woman discovering herself.

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.

This is a television show at the very peak of its powers, confident and controlled. The cast and crew have done their part--your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is simply to tune in. You won’t regret it.

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.

Underground celebrates the small, exceptional group of black and white heroes who risked it all for the sake of freedom. And it’s that story, the amazing cast and the historically accurate writing behind the drama that make this series worth the investment.

While Frank may not be as wily as he once was, he’s still not someone you want to cross. Departing showrunner Beau Willimon is proving that while he’s leaving the show after this season, he’s leaving with a bang.

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 show’s half-hour format does a lot to recommend itself to viewers and not seem too daunting an investment of both time and brain-space. It all feels inherently easily digestible, and the hopscotching through topics keeps things fun and effervescent.

Later episodes get bogged down in subplots that feel like busywork meant to keep our characters apart, and perhaps there aren’t any major revelations to this show’s look at dating in your 30s. But Love’s modest, hesitant misadventures are charming in their own right. Maybe it’s not quite love, but it’s definitely like.

At times there seems to be too much going on in the pilot, between Richie running away from gun-wielding lunatics, attempting to sign new talent, working to keep his existing roster, finagling a deal to sell his company and balancing his precarious home life. But it’s no greater a flaw than most pilots attempting to set up the scheme of things face, and the action never seems bogged down or tied up in specifics.

That the limited series squeaks by as just entertaining enough is a disappointment considering the pedigree of everyone involved and the reputation of its source material.

While the characters sometimes border on cartoonish, they also manage to showcase an underdog quality that will have the audiences rooting for them anyway, and they’re somewhat grounded by the rest of the cast, including librarian Abbey Logan (Maria Thayer).

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.