[The actors are] saddled with unlikable characters, a distasteful infidelity plot and an erratic tone that never quite finds itself.

The end result feels like a hideous pastiche of focus-group testing, procedural clichés and CliffsNotes literary references that got pulled out of the incubator about two seasons too early.

All of Alex’s quirks (she has a tendency to spit while talking) and surgical brilliance (practically on a whim, she pulls off a heart transplant procedure that only four others have managed before her) can’t mask the grim fact that she’s ultimately a collection of threadbare drama-series clichés. ... Even worse, the show’s supporting characters are all some combination of bland, unbelievable, and/or reprehensible.

Perhaps some day Chelsea will inspire a fascinating intellectual discussion about the perils of noisily promising something new on the late-night scene, then delivering the TV equivalent of an ancient burlap grocery sack: a good idea in its infancy, perhaps, but now on the brink of everything imminently falling out of the bottom with a messy splat.

With tired punchlines and a new cast that lacks the easy charm of the originals, Netflix’s That ’90s Show is a total buzzkill.

It does manage to find a few laughs when Wayans and Wayans Jr. are just riffing and one-upping each other; in fact, I’d rather watch Senior and Junior cutting it up off-camera. Instead, we’re left with lots of silly voices, a few crude Neanderthal views… and not a lot of substance.

Here and Now feels like a rough draft for a TV show that never got refined into a coherent premise. I’ve sat through four hours of it, and I still don’t quite know what it is... other than not worth your time.

The comics’ jokes aren’t funny. Because of that, we don’t buy into their talent and can’t get invested in their journey. And as soon as they step offstage, any semblance of humor dries up completely.

There’s not a lot of nuance to be found here, with any trace of psychological depth replaced by cheesy love montages and paint-by-numbers confrontations. We’re given no sense of why Debra is making these terrible decisions... over and over and over again.

A quality cast does its best, but can’t salvage the cringe-worthy dialogue and paper-thin characterizations.

When it’s not burying us in an avalanche of creaky sitcom clichés, it’s creeping us out with inappropriate sex jokes.

It does not improve, and just keeps hammering the same tired joke over and over again. It’s a colossal waste of everyone’s time and talent. Cringe humor without the humor is just cringing.

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 sets out to be the comprehensive historical record of gay rights in America, but its unwieldy structure and clumsy writing make it more of a footnote.

L.A.’s Finest is a loud, dumb mess of a cop drama, loaded up with corny punchlines and incoherent plotting.

The whole series feels like Netflix fed Arnold’s old action movies into ChatGPT and filmed whatever came out, unedited.

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.

Hershey’s commitment to the role is impressive, but it’s not enough to follow Damien into the schlockiest circle of TV hell.

An uninspired soap with laughably bad dialogue, The Waterfront is trying to be the new Yellowstone, but it doesn’t come close.

The series does boast a breakout performance from newcomer Ashleigh Cummings. It’s just too bad that nothing else about the show lives up to that performance. Instead, any flickering glimmer of quality gets smothered by a drab visual palette, sluggish plotting and a crushingly dour tone.

Don’t throw away your vote on The Regime, a ridiculous and misguided political satire that even Kate Winslet can’t salvage.

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.

An overstuffed, often ridiculous supernatural drama that somehow manages to make a town filled with magical creatures seem crushingly dull.

Peacock’s Roman epic Those About to Die is an overstuffed, underbaked slog that slumps when the action ends.

The Orville feels like a vanity project, plain and simple, and while it might be fun for MacFarlane to run around shooting phasers and playing Captain Kirk, it’s not much fun to watch. Because it doesn’t work as comedy. It doesn’t work as sci-fi. It just doesn’t work at all.

Tycoon completely misses what makes the movie business so special.

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.

The framing device the ABC version uses to bring us into and out of the story is so clunky, it’s not worth discussing. ... The whole endeavor feels like the Disney ride version of Dirty Dancing: cleaner, prettier and way frothier than the already frothy real thing.