Dreyfuss play [Madoff] to the hilt. It’s a juicy part for an aging actor who’s likewise fortunate to have the always good Danner along for the ride. Together they make Madoff a watchable yet curious undertaking.

Suits is made of somewhat sterner stuff than other USA originals. But it always gets down to how well the lead characters hold up. Once again, it looks as though we have a winner on a network that knows what it's all about while big brother NBC keeps stumbling on TV's main stage of actors and their roles.

The Passage, which shows considerable promise in these early episodes. Thanks to Gosselaar and Sidney, the all-important human element goes hand-in-hand with all the sci-fi ins and outs.

Screenwriter Sarah Phelps has deftly adapted Rowling’s novel into a cautionary, metaphorical tale that pulls its weight and measuredly draws one in.

The first five episodes made available for review are underwhelming and under-achieving.

Serviceable yet unremarkable. ... 9-1-1 is a match for the overall quality of NBC’s Chicago trifecta. None of race-to-the-rescue, life-and-death dramas are anywhere near Emmy caliber. But if there’s room for one more -- and quite likely there is -- then Fox certainly could do worse than a comparatively blood-less but decently executed series from a producer who still hits more than he misses.

One doesn’t expect a whole lot of nuance from Last Ship maestro Michael Bay, who’s also produced all four Transformers movies, with another one in the works. You just sit back, swallow this thing whole and wait for sturdy, studly, stolid Captain Chandler to fire off another round of uniformed rhetoric.

It promises to be quite a juggling act, with Leary as balls-out as ever in the early going of his latest daring enterprise.

The semi-dreaded but not altogether unwelcome "not terrible" tag is visited upon CBS' latest Monday night comedy entry.

Riveting at the start and somewhat less so as time marches on. Crowe’s portrayal of Ailes of course is the major drawing card, and he is nothing if not fully immersed. The characters around him can’t help but pale in comparison, but it would help if some of the supporting roles were more vividly acted.

Unlike Cheers, the newcomer has inclusiveness going for it. But the writing is no match at all.

The World According to Dick Cheney instead is nuts-and-bolts bland and overly deferential.

In the end, Phil Spector succeeds on the strength of its two marquee thespians. Mirren is wonderful throughout, Pacino scores in double figures and they have enough scenes together to make it all well worth your while.

For now, the three lead performances are uniformly winning while the pacing is bracingly brisk. The male characters in large part are furniture to be moved around in service to the women’s varying predicaments and aspirations.

Unfortunately, Bomb Girls is affixed with an oft-overwrought and at times just plain clunky script.

There’d be no hope for the future were every millennial this way. But as voices of a hopefully very small subset of their generation, Povitsky and Aflalo are funny enough in spots to make a go of it as two oddly self-aware non-starters.

It’s a character study first and foremost, with a sure-handed sense of time and place.

All in all it's a pretty deft mix of violence, pathos and ethos via a vampire, a werewolf and a ghost as roomies.

Its graphic and constant violence, including some very bad treatment of those two Swedish girls, is gratuitous, upsetting and prurient.... AHS: Hotel has the subtlety and texture of Gaga’s ill-considered meat dress.

Low on initial appeal and likewise short on originality, it’s a bleak ’n’ grim undertaking that just doesn’t seem built for the long haul.

Some interesting conversation does seep through, though, as part of what the host terms "the universal language of women."

Chris Carter seems to be creatively bankrupt at this point, with Episode 3 screaming out a vote of no confidence. For a while at least--early in Episode 1--it was kind of nice to see Scully tell Mulder, “I’m always happy to see you.” And for him to reply in turn, “And I’m always happy to have a reason.” But then the story went on, straining, lurching and tripping before falling flat on its face.

The first two episodes flex a fair amount of pulling power, even though nothing really jumps off the page. The series could use a more galvanizing, take-charge sleuth than Epps portrays.

Its characters and situations are alternately aggravating, humorous and, to a lesser extent, poignant. Parker and Church are fully in charge throughout as a perfectly imperfect duo. Yes, they’re both that good--in a series that demands just that.

American Housewife so far is too busy taking offense to be much fun to watch.

It’s an ambitious, sprawling undertaking.

Beals’ sturdy performance is an overall plus, but Proof has a harder time selling its basic week-to-week premise.

Rise doesn’t elevate to the heights of Friday Night Lights with either its storytelling or performances. But it’s heartfelt from start to finish while also offering an overall feel-good respite from television’s ongoing obsessions with “true crime” and all things Trump.