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.

What you need to know going in is that the show is funny, sexy, offbeat-as-hell and, with Sam Catlin (Breaking Bad) as showrunner, divinely dark.

Unfortunately, you won’t need to get past the second commercial break of the pilot episode to realize you’re watching the most banal type of procedural, dressed up in garish period costumes and clogged with faith-versus-science questions that get explored with all the depth and nuance of a political debate on The View.

What’s fascinating--and disappointing--about Confirmation is that we somehow manage to learn more about Hill in the recreation of scenes that are essentially dramatic re-enactments of C-Span clips you can watch right now on YouTube. That leaves about an hour and a half of bloodless storytelling that ping-pongs from law offices to congressional corridors to Thomas’ living room.

As the stakes of their revenge pact rise higher, and their ingenuity and morality get tested against seemingly unbeatable foes, don’t be surprised if you’re less and less bothered by the little fumbles in writing as you get more and more engrossed in the bigger picture.

Unfortunately, The Detour too often confuses the obvious for the outrageous, and mistakes hacky-ness for hilarity.

The Girlfriend Experience proves more interesting than engrossing, perhaps because there doesn’t seem to be a single character willing to raise his or her voice above library-corridor volume, connect in any way that’s not ultimately about money or power, or overtly express the possible negative side effects of selling your body for cash.

Trouble is, there’s not a single surprising twist on any of the threadbare inside-showbiz tropes, and even worse, every single zinger feels like it’s from a hastily assembled first draft.

Ultimately, while Season 5’s opening episodes benefit greatly from Dunham’s decision to unite the ladies, Girls‘ greatest joy remains its Ginsu-like sharpness for skewering its twentysomethings’ misguided sense of self-importance and self-entitlement. Well, that and its guffaw-inducing dialogue.

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.

The Magicians may not have perfected every incantation in its spellbook, but it’s worth a look for viewers intrigued by the idea of a Harry Potter-esque weekly fantasy series.

Love for the franchise and its characters likely will blunt the momentary ridiculousness for longtime fans (it did for this one), while newcomers should hang in for the second and third hours--because that’s when the series finds its bizarre rhythm.

There are also moments you’ll find yourself wishing Goldberg and Katims had trimmed away some of the less vital elements of their dense tale and cleared a path toward higher stakes and greater suspense. ... Still, The Path benefits greatly from the way it takes us into a murky world and repeatedly makes us question how we feel about its protagonists.

Despite the presence of Krause, Enos and Walger--all of whom have been standouts in modern TV classics--The Catch is barely worth investigating.

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.

Clad in the silks and satins of 1700s France, Outlander‘s Jamie and Claire Fraser clean up nicely. What a relief, then, that the Starz series does, too, delivering a second season that explores their complicated relationship amid a historical plot with a looming, deadly deadline.

The solid cast, compelling overall storyline and deft twists (Rosalee’s mother is full of surprises) add up to an engrossing, enlightening drama.

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

There are a few arcs on The Family that could use a little work. ... Still, those little missteps hardly detract from the thrills and chills of The Family.

The Real O’Neals may be soft and gooey at its center, but it’s the hard, tart outer shell that gives it its unique flavor.

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.

[A] little bit of bloat hardly slows down a slick production that, while transporting us back in time, stakes Hulu’s claim as a serious streaming player of the future.

Vinyl may hit one or two questionable notes in its first five episodes, but fueled by a beautifully realized sense of place and Cannavale’s certain-to-be-Emmy-nominated performance, it’s definitely worth a spin.

Grease‘s live audience and inconsequential snafus served to underscore its meticulous production and allowed us to get swept up in a joyous and uniformly powerful set of performances.

The People v. O.J. Simpson‘s true feat is its ability to build real suspense using moments burned into our national consciousness.

The show’s supporting players--in particular, D.B. Woodside’s Amenadiel, sent down from Heaven to insist Lucifer go back from where he came, Rachael Harris as Lucifer’s shrink, and Lesley-Ann Brandt as Maze, Lucifer’s ass-kicking assistant--hint at the possibility of a more interesting show (as does a closing twist in “Favorite Son”). Until or unless the show’s writing staff digs down and explore those darker instincts, however, Lucifer feels stuck in creative purgatory.

While it’s not always easy to watch--and can go for long stretches without a real laugh--Baskets elevates itself by showing it’s interested in more than just clowning around.

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.”