The past is suddenly malleable. This removes all the stakes, but also downgrades 12 Monkeys from fatalistic sci-fi dystopia to a predictable genre piece. Not horrible by SyFy, or even cable thriller standards, but still disappointing.

Meadows was the one minor bright spot as the self-emasculating and self-deprecating therapist. Hines' allusions to a wild, coked-up past, Zorn's workplace woes, Pemberton's teen angst-these were all well-treaded tropes, and likely a missed opportunity for something more clever.

Where Stewart is the show's greatest strength, there is very little else to grasp onto. The situations are good for a few awkward giggles, but ultimately Blunt Talk misses the mark on the bigger picture.

Meyers' Dracula is in line with the seductive, brooding bloodsuckers we've become used to lately, sipping fine whiskey as often as he does blood. The pilot moves very slowly, but the production values are outstanding.

The Bastard Executioner suffers from inconsistent pacing. At times meandering or sluggish, it then changes gears, rapidly springing a gory, adrenaline-infused battle seemingly out of nowhere.

And Just Like That… addresses these issues [death, alcoholism, racism, sexual identity] with a lot more respect bringing a deserved weightiness to the matters, which are explored over the course of the 10 episodes and not resolved in under half an hour—love. The overarching cringing “wokeness” of it all—hate.

While Nine Perfect Strangers may be a serviceable popcorn binge, it’s difficult to imagine that the series will leave any sort of long-lasting impression on its audience.

The nutty parents in Growing Up Fisher do a good job of playing their extreme characters, instinctually making their eccentricities acceptable and funny rather than far-fetched and excessive. In contrast, the Growing Up Fisher children are so grounded and adult, but play that off with a world-weary-ness that is engaging.

Not only does it promise scares, but it looks good, moves quickly, and uses effects well and wisely. In a market that's rapidly growing, Constantine does a commendable job distinguishing itself.

On balance, Heroes Reborn shows great promise. The challenge will be how the writers and producers pull all the disparate threads into a cohesive storyline.

The set design is impeccable and the cast is exceptional. ... True representation is tricky and demands much self-interrogation on the part of screenwriters and viewers. Either way, as a thought experiment Great Expectations is certainly worth the pursuit.

Parish should be off to the races, but, sadly, too often it stalls out.

O'Quinn doesn't have nearly the command he did on Lost, even if he is in charge. Any scenes with the gang members' families are just plain cringe-worthy.

The Goldbergs banks on nostalgia for its charm, but needs to build on something more for us to really care about this family.

Much of Imperfect Women’s runtime is squandered, wringing these forty-something friends through one plot contrivance to the next.

While historians may struggle with these early-century equivalents to rock stars as busy sleuths, Houdini's unshakably scientific stance can be refreshing, and it's entirely possible that the real Houdini and Doyle would have loved this--while they were still friends.

The entire thing could have been told in a tight and easy to grasp two hours and could have used a lot more grit and grime to ground Camden in authenticity. Still, there is plenty to learn from Camden, albeit in a CliffsNotes version.

As it stands now, the case-of-the-week approach is as hackneyed a take on Minority Report as FOX could have come up with.

The original series was nowhere near being the most profound television of its time, but at least it was entertaining. The Gossip Girl reboot’s uninteresting storylines, paper-thin characters, and lack of purpose cannot even claim that praise.

Most fans of edgy cartoons, and comedy in general, will love Strip Law’s shameless pursuit of debased jokes, along with its casino-like overstimulation.

Star-Crossed is a by-the-numbers, odds-against, inter-species, teenage love story.

The Tomorrow People, which is a remake of a 1970s British show, is completely bogged down with rushed exposition, stale acting, and pointless action scenes that leave not much to look forward to.

The clichés are too silly and obvious.

[The actors'] experience and timing makes the writing work better than it is written, but they are working overtime to get that to happen.

The concept is predictable, but not tired. The cast is relatable, and the dilemmas are thought-provoking without being heavy-handed.

The confusion of this multi-genre series and its far-fetched ending is only justified by Bell and her imminent watchability, which works no matter who she is portraying or how shabby the material she’s working with is. ... An empty calorie binge.

Corey Hawkins does a perfectly serviceable job in the thankless role of playing the new Jack, as do the other leads Jimmy Smits and Miranda Otto. But you'll have more fun rewatching your season one DVD.

This narrative of bad people who want to feel human, whose flaws are both embedded into their DNA and yet crippling, has gone stale. In the context of a crime show, the gimmick ages rapidly.

Granted, Dollface is a comedy, but it’s not a comedy for tweens, yet that’s how the series plays out.

Running Wilde exerts so much energy setting up the jokes that they end up forced. Arnett breaks off a couple of great one-liners, but Running Wilde has a lot of work to do in order to even be a good sitcom, much less a Hall of Famer like Arrested.

The actors frequently sound hokey, and much of the dialogue drags as if it were ripped from a textbook, instead of coming from lived in characters.

Mixology has sharp-witted lines that are genuinely funny--if at times highly sexist--rather than being gratuitous, clichés, or too-obvious puns.

Welcome to the Family's storyline is so predictable, it doesn't warrant watching.

More risk-taking with the jokes and stepping up to the comedy from the rest of the cast and the show might eventually become something--and that's only if they can come up with enough stories for what is essentially a thin, workplace/home life crossover sitcom.

In under 10 minutes, Outsourced manages to hit numerous offensive Indian stereotypes, borders on being racist, and not remotely funny.

There’s a lot of squandered potential here. The lack of focus on the customers is an easy win missed. And while the lack of a “big bad” may be refreshing but means the show lacks any sense of real peril or urgency. By the halfway mark we lose sight of the driving force of the show and slip into soapy silliness.

Underwood always plays overconfident characters, and Ironside is no exception, but the wheelchair aspect makes it feel like he is trying too hard. None of the other characters are defined enough to balance out anything Underwood is doing. The stories are textbook cop fodder.

There is absolutely no reason-other than the sheer good-lookingness of My Generation's cast-to tune into the show. Still, we are rooting for creator Noah Hawley (The Unusuals, Bones) to drag this one out of the mire.

Heigl's serviceable, and the show's writing is fun enough that, as long as audiences don't expect the next great political thriller, State of Affairs could be a worthwhile way to spend the concluding hours of a Monday night.

It's more of a kindhearted family show--but it does need some kind of edge.

The acting lacks conviction, but with a script this predictably sudsy, acting chops aren't at the top of the required list.

Mulaney often feels inauthentic and forced. However, one gets a feeling that like his smart stand-up material, Mulaney is aware of the awkwardness of his chosen format and is using it to his advantage. [Sep/Oct 2014, p.83]

The show tries (too) hard for laughs ... Walsh does what she can with the material, but by the twelfth time she utters the word "dude," her efforts fall flat.

A show that offers few laughs and just as much entertainment.

For a comedy, We Are Men is, in a word, sad.

The Case of: JonBenét Ramsey takes a while to find its footing, but when it does, it's undeniably engaging, especially for true-crime enthusiast.

With such a superior comedy cast, it's deplorable how far this badly written and directed show has dragged them down.

Beyond blissful laughs, Parks and Recreation offers a healthy image of political cooperation at a time when we could really use it.

There was a certain circuitousness to the plotlines that Archer Vice not only interrupts, but short-circuits completely.

Ronson is the glue that holds it all together, threading through his childhood, early interest in music, professional experiences (his recollections of his time with Amy Winehouse are to be savored) and personal geekdom.

The themes of women’s rights and sociological progress are strong throughout this season. Contraception, that was so controversial in earlier seasons is becoming commonplace. ... Call the Midwife stays in step with its times. Only seven episodes this season is simply not enough.

There are a lot of roadblocks before Sheila gets everything she is working for and none of them are rehashes of those she navigated in Season 1. This is a brand-new hell for Sheila, with enough redemptions along the way to keep you rooting for her.

The first few episodes of Season Three are overly saccharine. ... Thankfully, this cloying approach fades away relatively soon and Trying reverts to its winning and likeable personality.

Do non-music people care why they don’t have to pay to listen to music? The grammatically incorrectly titled How Music Got Free tells the story of [how] this came to be, which, arguably, most music people already know the story.

Nothing feels staged in the film’s accounts. The subjects are honest, even when it doesn’t reflect well on them.