Daryl Dixon is by no means perfect. There are some murky motivations, eyebrow-raising coincidences, and here and there dialogue that is more mystifying than it can possibly have been intended to be. .... Despite my quibbles, I never got to an installment that made me reluctant to watch the one after it.

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

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.

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.

The jokes could use some polishing, and the concept could easily grow old in a hurry, but the trio of Wayans, Stevens West and Mallard nudge this one a solid notch above your average network sitcom.

It’s almost shameless how quickly Mac plows through the “classics,” including using soot and packing tape to lift a fingerprint, and I’m still unsure of what principle he uses exactly to outwit a biometric scanner. But these quick fixes remain a good part of the fun. ... It deviates from the comparatively “lone wolf” nature of the original, though that’s not necessarily to its detriment; it simply makes it more familiar, CBS procedural-y.

As a representation of an underserved demographic, and a declaration of war on lazy fat jokes, Shrill is an unquestioned success… but as a comedy series, it falls somewhere short of that.

A show like Conviction, which is fine but not terribly inspiring.

Elisabeth Moss’ spy thriller The Veil is effectively tense and provocative, but it gets derailed by unnecessary subplots.

Dune: Prophecy boasts stunning visuals and strong performances, but the story falls short of the high bar set by the Dune movies.

To be fair, the revival does begin to find its stride in later episodes, especially when it leans into the proudly pretentious tone of the original. (We even get a conversation spoken entirely in Latin!) But beyond the superficial similarities — the pithy title cards between scenes, Grammer crooning “Tossed Salad and Scrambled Eggs” over the end credits — this just isn’t Frasier.

The ensemble has held together nicely in the two decades since. ... When it comes time to take aim at today’s political landscape, Murphy Brown misses its target. ... The revival’s strongest asset, actually, is Murphy’s relationship with her now-adult son Avery (Jake McDorman).

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.

Seth Rogen’s showbiz satire The Studio has lots of cool cameos, but gets too caught up in Hollywood lore to be consistently entertaining.

If you can get past the lack of originality--and lines like “We have to be more pure than the Virgin Mary before her first period”--Billions does offer a nasty but fun escape into a world that brings to life the title of the Notorious B.I.G.’s old hit, “Mo Money, Mo Problems.”

There are a few consistent bright spots, including party-girl Stephanie’s interactions with DJ’s annoying (sorry!) kids; the original series’ now-twentysomething fans will likely identify with her more than any other character.

Jude Law and Jason Bateman make Netflix’s grim crime drama Black Rabbit worth watching, even when the story crumbles around them.

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

[Sharp Objects] is frustratingly opaque, and it moves like molasses. It’s such a slow burn, it nearly fizzles out. ... At the very least, it’s still an artfully shot showcase for some fine acting, which isn’t the worst thing in the world. But considering the big names involved and the promising source material, it can’t help but feel like a letdown.

I’m hoping Superstore lasts long enough that its writers begin to feel less reliant on jokey situations and trust that there’s more than enough organic humor to be found just by letting their characters live in the peculiar, seldom-seen world they’ve created.

When the series gets too far away from the Bancroft investigation, Altered Carbon stumbles.

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 Sinner does have a nicely lyrical visual style: It’s shot with a keen eye for detail, with an appropriately gloomy, unsettling musical score. But strangely, the more we learn about Cora’s complicated past, the less interesting her story becomes. The answers we do get are either too pat--the flashbacks to her childhood, with a young Cora being tormented by her fanatically religious mother, are painfully overwrought-- or they’re simply erased by the latest plot twists.

It’s safe to say that Season 3 improves on that mess [Vince Vaughn’s Season 2 performance], but it still registers as a mild disappointment, all things considered.

AMC’s beautiful new take on Interview With the Vampire is certainly bold and seductive, but it too often tips over into camp.

If you stick with the show, a sorta Law & Order: Forensic Linguistics, you’ll find that, OK, at times, it’s a little heavy-handed. ... Bettany is so compelling, in fact, that you’ll wish we got more of him sooner. Ditto Jane Lynch, who does fine, subtle work as Attorney General Janet Reno.

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.

There are a few genuinely poignant moments scattered through Disclaimer’s run, but taken as a whole, it’s a rough watch, putting its characters through the wringer and wallowing in overheated melodrama with lots of wailing and crying.