This is the Star Wars series you’re looking for. Don’t sleep on it.

NBC’s Quantum Leap reboot has a charming star and slick action scenes, but gets bogged down by corny dialogue and dead-end mysteries.

It never goes as hard or gets as dark as, say, BoJack did… but that’s not necessarily a bad thing, either. The lighter touch makes it an easier watch, and it does deliver more laughs per minute than most anything out there these days. A TV comedy that’s actually funny — what will they think of next?

Amazon’s Lord of the Rings series The Rings of Power is worth the wait: a grandly ambitious epic with stunning visuals.

No matter how you watch it, The Patient is high-level drama told with admirable efficiency — all killer, no filler.

Despite a deliberate pace and narrow scope, HBO’s House of the Dragon proves itself a worthy successor to Game of Thrones.

Jen’s She-Hulk origin story, which unspools in the first episode, gets a bit repetitive — another case of an unwitting someone not wanting the gift of superpowers — but Maslany and Ruffalo enjoy a wonderful sibling-like banter that transcends the VFX they’re often hidden under. Once Jen accepts her duality, things get much more zippy and She-Hulk transforms into “Lawyer Show!”

I do appreciate the effort to highlight some of the stories the film didn’t tell. But the fun is conspicuously missing, and the muddled and labored end result is a far cry from the movie that inspired it.

The new Password is… not bad? And even a lot of fun at times. No, I’m still not a fan of the set, which has none of the coziness from the (deep cut alert!) Allen Ludden-hosted era, but instead seems dictated by the law that every primetime game show since 1999 has to evoke Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. ... But the gameplay is faithful to that which we all know (save for a flourish or two), and the proceedings are overseen by a pretty perfect host.

It’s closer in tone to the later seasons of Sex and the City, when it ventured into dramedy territory, but that was earned by years of great writing and careful character building. Uncoupled could get there — and it’s a solid vehicle for Harris’ talents regardless — but it’s not quite there yet.

There were times I wanted The Rehearsal to be more conventionally structured or even more conventionally funny; it gets weirdly poignant at times — or poignantly weird, I’m not sure which — as it walks a fine line between inspired and demented. (One participant’s comparison of Fielder to Willy Wonka isn’t all that far off.) But I can honestly say I’ve seen nothing like it on television before.

The Terminal List‘s plot defies logic, if you stop to think about it for even a minute, but it confidently shoves its way past any such concerns. It’s utterly humorless, too, punctuated by crude bursts of graphic violence. ... The cast is talented, to be sure, but they’re just going through the motions here.

It’s tough, because there’s so much about this show that I like, but I can’t shake the feeling that I wanted to see something more ambitious and boundary-breaking (and funny!) from a creative team of this caliber. Though there’s still time for Loot to find its footing and take a harder look at its main character, so far it goes down as a missed opportunity.

The Old Man seems to be shooting for something tense and riveting like Homeland or The Americans, but it doesn’t deliver the depth or nuance needed to bring us along for the ride.

In short, unless you’re for some reason dying for a reinvention of the wheel, you’re gonna love this. It’s suspenseful, exciting, funny and scary as hell.

Hulu’s intriguing but frustrating book adaptation Conversations With Friends can’t quite match the heights of Normal People.

[Star Trek: Strange New Worlds] gets back to basics, closely hewing to classic Trek with an old-school vibe and an episodic alien-of-the-week format. (It even brings back the traditional uniforms and opening narration from the original series.) It’s a throwback, to be sure… and a welcome one.

Gaslit is a wickedly entertaining and irreverent look at an infamous slice of American history that none of these characters are particularly proud to be a part of.

This show is truly a gift, and if Season 2 is any indication, it can keep on reinventing itself for years and years to come.

Moon Knight remains wonderfully unpredictable every step of the way.

It bites off more than it can chew by taking on too many characters. We follow more than a dozen characters through a flurry of flashbacks and strange psychological detours, explaining how this parade of damaged men came to be so damaged. (It’s ten episodes, but it could’ve easily be six, or even four.) Its dynamic style and the intriguing personalities involved help it rise above all of that, though.

Any time Garner’s Anna is off screen, the series loses a bit of steam. I suppose it’s inevitable that a story about a phony heiress feels a little hollow… but it’s a fun ride while it lasts.

The Gilded Age is a feast for the eyes, and its aesthetic pleasures are undeniable — but those are the only pleasures to be found here.

Hulu’s How I Met Your Father has a strong cast, but lame jokes and an excess of schmaltz make it fall short of the original.

he show allows these women to be substantially flawed and messy, and it resists the urge to get too mopey and maudlin. Plus, their banter is fun and snappy, in the vein of Coupe’s Happy Endings. ... The three leads have excellent chemistry right off the bat, too.

Peacemaker, if you can stomach the title character’s lunkheaded views (and temporarily forgive if not forget his actions in The Suicide Squad), is a lot of James Gunn fun.

No, this is not the classic Sex and the City we first fell in love with… but what it is now isn’t bad, either.

The Wheel of Time has enough potential to ride past these initial frustrations thanks to a high budget and deep commitment from the actors to faithfully bring the magic of this story to life.

As creepy as Ike’s obsession is, it never gets creepy enough to be truly unsettling. All in all, though, it’s worthwhile just to see Ferrell and Rudd expand their acting ranges a bit and delve deep into a story that’s so strange, it has to be true.

The result is an inspired mix of Beetlejuice and The Money Pit, with a spooky, goofy energy that isn’t remotely like anything else on broadcast TV...The chorus of ghosts is a comedic masterstroke.

It just feels like Simien was eager to expand the universe of his original film, and ended up overextending himself. The result feels more like a series of self-contained short films than a TV show. That puts the burden on the cast of mostly newcomers to command our attention in their solo showcases, and unfortunately, they largely come up short.

It’s hard to judge an entire series off of just one episode, of course, and this reboot does get a lot of things right.

The premiere is an inspired weaving together of creeping dread and disaster movie spectacle, laced with a quirky sense of humor. The subsequent episodes don’t quite live up to that promise, though. ... There’s a really good show somewhere in here, but it keeps getting bogged down by the weight of its own ambitions.

We’re supposed to feel bad when the media treats Jones like a joke in one scene, and then laugh at how dumb she is in the next. (Casting Taran Killam as Paula’s volatile husband was also a mistake: His presence makes their scenes play like a SNL digital short.) It’s this clumsy blend of didactic “weren’t we awful back then?” hindsight and sleazy sensationalism that ultimately makes Impeachment one of the year’s biggest TV disappointments.

It’s a little bit Rear Window, a little bit Manhattan Murder Mystery — and a lot of fun, actually.

Heels is an entertaining and worthwhile watch for wrestling fans and non-wrestling fans alike. While the show’s in-ring segments are pretty cool, the show’s biggest sell is the prickly but tight-knit relationship between the Spade brothers, who have very different dreams but remain entwined because of the family business.

If The White Lotus is 30 Rock, then Nine Perfect Strangers is Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip: not “good,” exactly, and definitely way overblown, but still watchable in its own strange way.

Rich with intriguing characters and armed with a breezy comedic tone, the campus comedy from first-time showrunner Amanda Peet is a smart, low-key charmer that sneaks up on you.

Mr. Corman is billed as a “comedy,” somehow, but it’s missing the laughs. It seems to be going for cringe comedy, but we just end up cringing. I felt more sad watching it than anything. Ultimately, Josh’s lack of direction and gloomy worldview are an anchor that drags the narrative momentum to a halt.

The plucky, can-do spirit that made last season so special still endure.

I found myself wishing the show would go further, hit harder, follow through on its more savage instincts. But it does build to a satisfying finish, echoing Pleasantville as the two outsiders kick off a chain reaction of chaos in town with their new-fangled ways.

Once the premise for the series is in place, things get very fun, as Loki channels his mischievous brilliance into splendid detective work and he and Mobius engage in some timey-wimey theory testing, all building to a tantalizing, two-pronged reveal — one capping each hour — that opens up all kinds of possibilities for the rest of the six-episode season.

There’s a good TV show to be made about a sitcom wife’s secret double life. (WandaVision explored similar ideas with much greater success.) But here, the concept turns sour and curdled, and we end up as miserable as Allison is.

The Colin episodes are excellent, but the others lag behind to varying degrees, and Brooke’s own self-examination doesn’t quite gel, despite Aduba’s best efforts.

Girls5eva‘s pleasures, though, far outweigh its stumbles. And best of all, it’s a fun, easy binge, with all eight episodes dropping at once. It’s a relief to have something light and fun to watch, frankly. So much TV these days, even the good stuff, is hard to watch — but this is a joy.

All in all, though, it’s a breezy watch with a casually zany hangout energy, and it hits on some touchy subjects without getting too deep with them. (This is a comedy, after all.) It’s tough to talk about money sometimes, but the Home Economics crew finds a way to make it almost fun.

Even if you’re not a Buffy buff, there’s enough retread here to give déjà vu to viewers of Whedon’s other series. ... Perhaps the show’s premium cable berth ultimately will allow the show to flower in a way different from that of Whedon’s other series, all of which aired on broadcast networks. Sadly, though, the most noticeable indicator so far of The Nevers‘ more permissive network standards are the proliferation of boobs for boobs’ sake.

Mare sets the scene so vividly that the murder mystery almost isn’t even necessary. These characters, and this town, are enough to command our attention. ... This slow burn may take a little time to heat up, but just give it a chance. It’s well worth it.

The Mighty Ducks: Game Changers is a feel-good show that dutifully honors the past, doesn’t reinvent the wheel, and delivers the comforting optimism we’re all craving right now.

The physical confidence exhibited by Sam in that set piece, followed by the fun banter between him and a government handler, quickly cements Mackie’s upgrade from sidekick to lead hero. ... If Disney+’s second Marvel series stays on track, it will be as well-received as WandaVision, even if it is a more traditional Avengers offshoot.

As intriguing as Debris‘ central mystery is now, it could easily wear thin if the producers run out of ideas too quickly; I can’t really envision yet how this can be sustained across multiple seasons. But for now, at least, it’s a helluva fun ride. It’s rare for a network to hit us with something as smart and strange and ambitious as this. So let’s enjoy it while we can.

It all makes for an uncomfortable mix of gentle small-town shenanigans and gritty crime twists, and neither of the two are sharp enough to really hook you. Ultimately, Ginny & Georgia feels like it was made to fill a space in the “Because You Watched” row on Netflix… and for a streamer intent on keeping you binge-watching no matter what, maybe that’s enough.

Superman & Lois works. And oftentimes it is quite wonderful.

There’s an unspoken layer of social justice to Robyn’s mission, and I wonder how far they’ll push that angle in future episodes. (The premiere bends over backwards to show the NYPD cops aren’t the bad guys.) But it has a strong foundation to build from, thanks to Queen Latifah.

So, is Firefly Lane good? Alas, no. But is it entertaining? Kinda — and not even in a mean way. It’s an adequate time-passer till the shows for which you’re really jonesing are back on. There’s no more shame in indulging in it than there is in equating sex to ice cream.

The absence of Lecter and his indelible dynamic with Clarice leaves a huge void that Clarice struggles to fill. The result is a disappointingly run-of-the-mill procedural — another dark, grim Criminal Minds clone with a shiny brand name slapped on the front of it.

WandaVision is primarily designed with MCU fans in mind, though casual viewers can more or less jump right in with no prior knowledge. (Everyone on this show is confused, too, so that helps.) But don’t let the show’s outside-the-box approach worry you: Yes, WandaVision is unlike anything Marvel has done before — but it turns out that’s a very good thing.

By the second episode, Mr. Mayor is already resorting to bad toupee jokes and the aforementioned “PPPORN” debacle. (Really, no one at City Hall raised a red flag about that one?) Even a sure-fire winner like getting Ted Danson stoned on weed gummy bears somehow falls flat. (He ends up fighting a hockey mascot, for some reason.) The actors seem almost resigned here, too.

Graphically violent and morose, it rubs our noses in the ugly side of humanity for no good reason, and for a legal thriller, it’s remarkably dumb, with its characters making unforgivably boneheaded decisions at every turn.

The teen dynamics are a little familiar at times, but the revival dares to tackle class disparity and white privilege while playfully mocking the original’s consequence-free low stakes. It still has heartfelt inspirational speeches… but it makes fun of them at the same time.

I like Middleditch and Ashford together enough to hope that Pennette and the writers find a way to work out the kinks and tap into this pairing’s considerable potential.

It all unfolds along predictably miserable lines, and confirms that there’s not really ten episodes’ worth of story here to tell. A Teacher is just an uncomfortable, frustrating viewing experience, and not in the ways it’s meant to be.

It’s more of a conventional thriller than Big Little Lies was, favoring plot over character as it spins a twist-laden murder mystery. And if it’s ultimately not as emotionally complex as Big Little Lies, it’s more immediately gripping, with a breathless pace and a wealth of compelling performances.

Those of us who tune in to the other two shows in the franchise have already been here, seen this — and we’ve seen it done with greater artfulness, efficacy and urgency. Adding this third series to the rotation, even temporarily, feels more than a little bit like beating an undead horse.

Murphy’s productions always tend to favor style over substance — aside from FX’s triumphant Pose, which finds the beating human heart inside its flamboyant characters — but this might be his emptiest effort yet.

Woke has its goofy side, to be sure, but it’s thoughtful as well, handling thorny subject matter with a light, comical touch. It doesn’t minimize the very real issues Keef faces, but it vividly illustrates them with highly specific observations.

HBO’s reboot somehow feels vitally current, with richly drawn characters, gorgeous visuals, a genuinely compelling central mystery and another terrific lead performance from star Matthew Rhys.

Though it doesn’t take as many bold chances as I’d hoped it would, Love, Victor does still possess an undeniable charm.

While Episode 1 overexerts itself juggling multiple storylines (there’s a B-story involving a young tailie that simply vanishes for long stretches), the episodes that follow are more tightly wound as the murder case, which dominates half of the 10-episode season, takes frightful turns.

Hollywood comes as a disappointment, then, in spite of its stellar cast and admirable ambitions. It’s kind of like some of the big-screen icons that rose to fame in the early days of Hollywood: plenty of gloss, but not enough substance.

The four episodes I’ve seen have some narrative kinks to work out, to be sure, but the filmmaking is truly stunning at times, and it manages to capture an energy and a beauty that more polished series can only dream of.

Simply put, City of Angels isn’t merely good, it’s divine.

DC’s Stargirl gets off to a rousing, high-flying start, then loses some momentum when subsequent episodes open with deep-diving, Titans-style, -centric flashbacks. But by Episode 4, the stage is set for what is both DC Universe’s and The CW’s lightest, brightest, family-friendliest live-action superhero show yet.

Top-notch performances from an A-list cast are Mrs. America‘s greatest selling points, but make sure to bone up on the American political process ahead of time — or you might be lost.

Little Fires Everywhere, I realized, must be what watching Big Little Lies is like for people who don’t like Big Little Lies. In my eyes, though, that show managed to find a way to elevate this kind of soapy, pulpy material into something great. Little Fires Everywhere, sadly, does not.

It’s remarkably in-depth and at times revelatory, but a couple of missteps keep it from being truly insightful.

Garland’s singular vision is in full effect — Devs contains some of the most stunning imagery I’ve seen on TV in recent years — but unfortunately, the story gets stuck at the starting gate, bogged down by dense tech jargon and a frustratingly cryptic conspiracy plot.

Harry is a classic romcom for both better and worse. ... But to quibble with Harry, when it sticks at least the first of its two landings and left even this hardhearted bastard misty-eyed, feels like the equivalent of saying that if love isn’t perfect, it isn’t worth it. It is worth it.

By the time Episode 5 rolls around, with the great Parker Posey guest-starring as a kooky artist looking to unload her cheating husband’s mega valuable record collection, High Fidelity has established a funky, unassuming charm all its own. It’s kind of like your favorite local dive bar: nothing too flashy, but a reliable combination of fun people, a killer jukebox and good vibes.

It’s frustrating because all of the elements are there but Interrogation unknowingly sacrifices its own quality by allowing us to choose where to go.

The whole thing has decent energy, and boasts enough interesting visual flourishes that it’s tempting to let it slide by purely on style points. But it’s hard to locate the humanity buried underneath all this style. Like fellow oddballs Claws and On Becoming a God in Central Florida, Briarpatch tries to get by solely on quirk at times — but, sadly, man cannot live on quirk alone.

Locke & Key isn’t at all shy about revealing Key House’s incredible secrets; it just struggles to then do much with them, instead tending to hit pause on any acquired momentum to dive back into high school dating/movie club drama. As such, things don’t really get crackling until Episode 5 or so.

While it’s not entirely successful, the directing team’s approach is certainly skillful, and McMillions is definitely a fun watch.

It’s a true pleasure to see Stewart in his element again, and it’s a relief that Picard has managed to build a new universe around him that we’d actually like to spend more time in. By the end of Episode 3, I was starting to feel those familiar Next Generation vibes again.

A lovely and emotive series about the lives of immigrants in America.

They need a strong villain to play off of, though, and generically mean rich girl Alexandra Cabot (Camille Hyde) doesn’t quite cut it. I found myself wishing for more screentime for The Other Two‘s Heléne York, who plays Katy’s bitchy coworker Amanda. She’s sharp enough to provide a worthy foil for Katy, at least… but in the world of Katy Keene, it seems, any and all sharp edges have been rounded off to a safe dullness.

Really, it looks like all of the actors are having a blast filming Zoey‘s big musical numbers... but that fun never fully translates to us at home.

After a somewhat lackluster Season 2, it’s a treat to see Maisel shake off its own cobwebs and show us something new.

Reiser and Hunt’s veteran presence and the nostalgia factor help nudge it slightly above your standard sitcom, and maybe that’s enough to earn a spot on your holiday watch list.

Left with mostly just his voice to act with, Pascal gives Mando some hints of snarkiness, if not humor; by and large, he comes off as a business-first ballbuster. (And truth be told, no one wants a quippy Mandalorian.) Weathers and Herzog fit comfortably into this world, in their brief intros, and it’d be great to see more of Nolte’s Kuiil.

See relies on graphically gory battle scenes to carry a largely incoherent story, but I found myself giggling far more often than its creators intended. You almost have to admire its goofy confidence… as wrongheaded as it might be.

Steinfeld is excellent as Emily, armed with a delightful, Wednesday Addams-like morbid streak. (When her sister compliments the “lovely funeral” they just attended, Emily sniffs: “Mine will be better.”) Of all of Apple’s new shows, this one actually made me want to watch a second episode, and has the kind of breakout potential that a new streaming service desperately needs.

It tries to juggle too many characters at once, and doesn’t make any of them as compelling as its core concept. It’s a noble effort, and genuinely stirring at times, but I’m still waiting for it to really take flight.

Aniston infuses Alex’s story with genuine emotion, and reminds us what a gifted dramatic actor she is. But the rest of the show lets her down. It’s a solid performance lost in a sea of jumbled ideas and missed opportunities.

It’s an incredibly entertaining dual performance that carries Living With Yourself… even when the show’s initial spark begins to fade.

The Politician provides plenty of laughs and on-target jabs at our current political moment — but it’s the battered yet still-beating heart found in Platt’s performance that ultimately has us pulling the lever for this one.

The pilot spins an involving yarn, only to rush through it and wrap it up in too tidy a fashion. But the foundation is strong, and I’m interested to see where Herbers takes this complex character of hers. Mulder and Scully might not be coming back to primetime anytime soon… but Evil‘s dynamic duo might be the next best thing.

This detachment from reality effectively neuters the show’s myriad soapy storylines — ranging from financial woes to extramarital escapades — giving the whole thing an unfortunately low-stakes vibe.