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

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.

Thanks to his chemistry with his castmates, and his leaning into a boyish charm that came off as stilted inexperience in prior seasons—along with even better than ever turns from Matten and McClarnon, make season four of Dark Winds a new high watermark for this ever burgeoning crime saga.

The Netflix docuseries doesn’t probe as deeply as the podcast, but it does assemble key figures.

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.

This astoundingly moving yet hilarious–at times in the same scene–series depicts the how and why of an American political tragedy.

Down Cemetery Road’s first season starts off as a pulse-pounding journey that sadly hits a dead end.

The Lowdown hits more highs in a moment of screen time than most series do in their comparatively feeble entire run times. Harjo pays homage but also builds on crime tomes from prior generations.

The mystery of the villain this season is intriguing, and culminates in a hugely satisfying twist in later episodes. That being said, some viewers will become impatient with that dynamic and miss the presence of a big baddie like Weaving’s, plotting schemes and chewing up scenery. .... But best of all is the surprisingly effective melancholy giving bite to the dark humored banter between the main Slough House cast.

Unquestionably, the marquee names like Rhoads and Dimebag will draw the most attention. But every installment of Into the Void is worth watching. Just don’t binge it. The content is relentlessly heavy (pun only half intended) and is best consumed with a lighthearted sitcom chaser.

Too Much feel[s] rife with potential, even though it has yet to cohere into a great sitcom in line with the heights that these individual talents have already achieved elsewhere.

The remaining first half of this ten episode season (I only binged the five so far) are equally strong as the premiere, falling short of only the series’ absolute apex, which is of course Season Two’s famous “Forks” episode.

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

Old school sleuthing and shootouts to character development and ambitious visuals (especially in upcoming episodes), Season Three of Dark Winds thrillingly defies expectations.

The switch from battered girlfriend to ball busting crime boss is so sudden, it’s hard to reconcile the instantly experienced crook Joan becomes with the desperate mother she is. Turner handles this inconsistency brilliantly, maintaining viewers’ attention with her razor-sharp turn as Joan. Additionally, the ‘80s setting makes up for the storytelling deficiencies in many ways.

There is a certain amount of suspension of disbelief required for Nobody Wants This. .... The highly bingeable series has excellent comedy writing and a strong cast who move the episodes along at a quick clip. But even with all its on-point humor, Nobody Wants This has an undercurrent of seriousness, which puts it a few notches above the average sitcom.

A Very Royal Scandal does a good job of showing all perspectives and putting this specific situation into a greater context that questions right and wrong. Ultimately, it leaves the drawing of conclusions to the viewer.

The first two episodes of this season end on cliffhangers that maintain commendable suspense, despite some expository scenes that tumble into proverbial valleys compared to action packed and sharply acted road buddy sequences that are The Old Man’s peaks. Nevertheless, the exquisitely shot Middle East landscapes, Shawkat’s steely portrayal of a character in perilous danger, Bridges’ pitilessly pugnacious fight scenes, and his sparky chemistry with Lithgow make The Old Man a must watch, and prove some elder operatives need not be scurried out to pasture.

If you’ve seen the YouTube Originals The Boy Band Con: The Lou Pearlman Story produced by *NSYNC’s Lance Bass and are noticing some overlaps between that 100-minute documentary from 2019 and this docuseries. .... There is more understanding of Pearlman as a person, and his essentially sad existence in Dirty Pop, which also has a good handle on the pacing of the narrative.

Overall, not a minute is wasted with key information packed into every frame, each minuscule element filling in another piece of these multilayered and intersecting stories, guided by a cast that grasps and leans into the complexity of its setting. Were it not for Portman dragging the series down, it would be a must-watch. As it stands, skip the sixth episode altogether and the rest fits together a lot better.

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.

The Bear continues to make viewers laugh, dab tears and watch ravenously as the most lived-in characters on TV ply their trades and shake off setbacks. Whether they’re chatty or contemplative, you won’t be able to take your eyes off this unmatched cast and the gorgeous dishes they prepare.

The second season continues We Are Lady Parts’ deft and nuanced storytelling but doesn’t rehash past issues.

Brown does a decent job with what she’s given. But when her character’s name is the title, it’s around Queenie that everything revolves and with a weak central figure, that’s too much time is spent on her.

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.

The acting and writing somehow rival that loftily ambitious aesthetic, at least for two particular characters in the closing episodes. Though Ripley drags at times early in its run (or at least until you’re accustomed to its distinctive rhythm), its back end never ceases to entertain as a grieving Marge interjects at the lavish Venice mansion Ripley has weaseled into his possession.

So far, Season Three of Hacks is free of the formulas that make lesser shows so much more hack-y.

There is an angry sexual energy between Rebecca and Cam whose source will no doubt be revealed in subsequent episodes, but which, nonetheless is irrelevant, and extraneous, to the main storyline. This is not the only unrelated, fabricated side storyline on Under the Bridge, which would benefit from some streamlining. The central story is riveting enough without these random and inconsequential side ones.

The second episode also has a number of evocatively shot scenes. But the character development on this episode (which runs ten minutes shorter than the premiere) is equally effective. This is especially true of Ryan’s Melanie.

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

Palm Royale is so gorgeous to look at, the story is almost secondary. Funny and frothy, Palm Royale is an indulgent watch not unlike gorging on colorful and beautifully decorated pastries.

The further The Girls on the Bus gets into its storylines, the more likeable the central characters become, and the more invested you become in what happens with them.

The New Look lags and drags. It takes far too long to get its points across. When it finally does, it does so with not enough conviction. Instead of focusing on the fashion, which is in the title (The New Look was the name of Dior’s first collection when he set up his own house), the 10-episode series keeps forgetting what it’s about and reverts to being a Holocaust story.

This season of the uneven but unique and compelling Far East crime saga starts off stronger than the series’ first season.

More irresistible than the most-watched “unscripted” series revolving around the wealthy and as riveting as an ‘80s mini-series, FEUD’s one-a-week episode drops (although it kicked off with two) cannot come fast enough.

Glover and Erskine’s fans will have high expectations after the ground they broke on Atlanta and Pen15. This follow up project will prove to be no less enjoyable, even if it is more conventional and vying for a broader, thrill-and-romance seeking audience. The expert crafting of superficial pleasures, plus distinctive chemistry and heartfelt exchanges between its leads helps Mr. & Mrs. Smith hone in on an elusive target.

Later surprise-laden and richly complex scenes handily salvage Fargo’s fifth season after a ham-fisted start. That, and consistently remarkable performances at even the most shoddily written early moments, along with breathtaking action and bleak humor, show Hawley is still a TV visionary well suited to build on the Coen Brothers’ Fargo 1996 film legacy–even if he takes commendable big swings that occasionally miss.

The Curse is not for everyone, but in general, it’s a lot more approachable than some of Fielder’s and Safdie’s other works. The series features such precise filmmaking and multi-layered storytelling that it naturally appeals to many different audiences.

Thankfully, Starz picked up the show and let the brilliantly socially conscious writers, period detail-oriented set and wardrobe designers, and this rollicking cast build on the first season’s promise. As Doug might put it, this was the right move, because Minx now has even more to say about the intersections, and clashes, between feminism and LGBTQ+ rights, the ability of toxically masculine shot callers to redeem themselves, and the competing demands that weigh mothers down.

Lovingly filmed, richly written.

Riley keeps us guessing right up until the end, not to mention pulling off a satisfying conclusion from the web of plot and thematic threads he has weaved, is a testament to his skill. That he does so while also making a profound social statement is more impressive still.

Wainwright strikes a delicate balance between intimate character study and increasingly complex crime drama. Plot layers give Happy Valley more scope and suspense, while remaining digestible.

High Desert is barren of laughs, and its tone is as abrasive as a dusty California valley cactus.

Few shows have such a unique combination of grounded action and performances with an Orwellian social conscience and special effects splashed flash forwards. If Class of ’09 balances those elements better going forward, it could be as well-rounded, lithe and lethal as the best trained FBI boot camp recruits it is depicting.

Powerfully distinctive dialogue, meaningful themes, and engrossing — but never showy — visuals make Silo’s first episode one of the most gripping premieres of the TV streaming era.

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.

But even Bader, a seasoned comedic character actor, can’t make the overly-quippy-yet-deflated dialogue land. Same goes for the rest of the talented but hung-out-to-dry cast, each straining for cringey humor in one limp written exchange after the next. Only Odenkirk and Enos succeed by playing their scenes utterly straight.

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.

With contributions from horror luminaries such as Ana Lily Armipour (A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night), the visionary Panos Cosmatos (Mandy) and Jennifer Kent (The Babadook), and stars like Dan Stevens and F. Murray Abraham, there’s a good deal of hope that the series might transcend its conventional presentation and predictability to offer something a little more substantial.

The series may be called Ramy, but the best parts of the show are its supporting characters. Finely drawn and beautifully developed, both the scripted versions and the actors who portray them are on point.

The cast comes across as natural, even in their stereotypical roles. The dialogue is similarly fluid and representative of the kind of conversations that would happen in these circumstances.

Welcome to Wrexham is, in a word, boring. The documentary-capturing cameras have been on from before day one and they’re capturing the dullest footage there ever was.

It escalates and complicates some of the best and most controversial elements of its parent show that it should have no trouble standing on its own.

Legacy starts strong and only gets stronger. It’s a multi-generational family dynasty real-life drama far more riveting than any dramatized version.

Given the unpredictable character development and impassioned performances throughout these four episodes, the second season of Reservation Dogs is looking as promising as the first season, whose innovation and nuanced indigenous depictions won a coveted Peabody award, critical acclaim, and endless quotables from Knifeman.

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.

With a sharply-written script, nuanced direction, and deft acting, particularly on the part of Doherty, Chloe is a study in modern social dynamics and their psychological impacts as much as it is a ravishing mystery that needs to be seen through to the end.

It’s the tending to his deeper wounds: familial, romantic and professional, however, that make The Old Man not just highly watchable but truly memorable.

While the series has kinks to work out, the prospect of another season (or more) detailing what the members did afterwards would be fascinating to watch and perhaps less cartoon-ish than aspects of Season One that have been documented ad nauseam.

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 successes on season two of Hacks are hard won by the series’ characters who maneuver around a minefield of losses. The message of perseverance and determination, however, is sent with aplomb and without a shred of “hack”-y-ness.

It feels a little predictable, but the extreme personas of the overdrawn characters keep you locked in.

The set-up sounds promising except the overwhelming apologetic tone that blankets every single exchange stops Ten Percent from developing any kind of edge.

Barry’s runtime always whizzes by like a hitman’s bullet, the laughs constantly killing and the tone hitting an elusive bullseye. Aside from these richly layered plot developments, the characterization and performances of Barry, Gene, Hank, and, above all Sally, help this hilarious and occasionally heart wrenching dramedy once again — just like its title character — hit the mark.

The series’ incendiary latter episodes make it worth waiting out an ambitious but ill-conceived first half that’s bogged down almost as badly as the Baltimore justice system Simon is trying to depict.

Both Nacho’s and Saul’s arcs plots have equal emphasis in the two episodes that were provided to critics. Even though Nacho’s is more action packed, both have enough of the series’ famous off kilter twists to satisfy its hardcore fanbase.

Viewers will be won over by this series’ charms and mysteries, even if it frustrates and falls short in some of the aspects that draw in viewers in the first place, specifically Mann’s involvement and the thinly drawn Adelstein. Still, the series lives up to its namesake city by offering intrigue and quirky surprises in equal parts.

Starstruck gets off to a dull start, then becomes predictable and uninteresting. But, as the episodes progress, Matefeo rediscovers the instinctive humor that made the first season such a delight.

Sharp and accurate, at the same time, humorous, it is this latter characteristic that allows for the messages of the series to come through loud and clear. We’re listening and cannot wait to hear what the rest of this season has to say.

From female orgasms to women finding a career that speaks to their skills and passions to male objectification, differing viewpoints on women’s rights, misogyny, power dynamics, Minx tackles it all with a nuanced touch.

Amanda Seyfried gamely does her best, and at times she succeeds in capturing Holmes’ mannerisms and deranged energy.

The throughline for all these characters remains truthful, but the show’s pacing this season is uneven. Granted, Better Things has never adhered strictly to linear narratives or the traditional arc of a 30-minute episodic. There’s more of an emphasis on moments and feelings over plot.

Once you get past the initial insufferable hump at the series’ start, it becomes a guilty, addictive watch, not unlike watching self-centered wealthy people on reality shows dedicated to them.

Before long, these employees satisfyingly rise up to break free of those arbitrary cubbies, after seeing not merely the system’s exploitation but undeniable evil. By then, viewers will have long been hooked by not only that vital social commentary and the series spiky humor, but also Severance’s office shredder sharp direction and — above all — its white-collar hero cast.

The episode is highly watchable when West is hanging out with his friends, professing his love for Chicago or delivering incredibly catchy freestyles. In the moments between these ones, however, jeen-yuhs feels a little bit lost.

The fourth season of the 1950s-into-1960s period comedy The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel gets off to a shaky start.

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

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.

We Need to Talk About Cosby is difficult to watch, but it is absolutely necessary.

The sensitive and relatable approach to its subject matter treats the seriousness of alcoholism and the difficulties of recovery with respect and dignity, the laughs a tonic rather than gratuitous. Recommended for all generations at the end of the alphabet.

Everyone is over-acting to a borderline unconvincing amount. The series’ narrative progression is carefully curated to appeal to the tastes and sensibilities of viewers. ... Nothing happening in the series may be real, or important, but that’s never Star’s goal. Rather, each episode in Season Two is nothing more than a 30-minute escape, peering into a world that is mere fantasy, and is all the more entertaining for it, which, in this case, is enough.

It weaves the stories of its eight principal characters in a way that never feels redundant or overcomplicated.

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.

A welcome return for one of TV’s most deftly penned and performed series.

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.

To give the second season of The Morning Show something, anything, to propel it forward, there are a variety of soapy dramas, many of them pinned to the new characters. These cobbled together histrionic dramatics are offensive compared to the gravity of the issues of the first season. Even combined, the desperate scrambles of the second season don’t have enough bite, or credibility, for the viewer to invest in.

While the humor of Back to Life’s second season is still razor-sharp, the sinister elements and the characters’ excruciating pain override the laughs, tipping the series into highly sensitive human interactions and dangerous, heightened feelings much more so than comedy. ... Six episodes per season is simply not enough of this charming. if disturbing, series.

You need to keep your wits about you to pick up on all the witticisms of The Other Two, and it’s worth a re-watch to pick up on all the little quips that are littered throughout the series. They’re even better the second time around.

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.

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.

While the conflicts of this season are of the easy-to-resolve variety, they are problematic enough to keep viewers involved.

Duntsch’s story would be tough to stitch up in even the steadiest of auteur’s hands. Hats off to Macmanus and directors Maggie Kiley, Jennifer Morrison and So Yong Kim for their ambitious vision, not to mention the ace cast. At the same time, it’s a shame that Dr. Death is too often so dull.

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.

Unlike most peak TV series that drag on like a rained-out vacation, The White Lotus could use more episodes to explore its underused characters’ arcs, or at least let these rich nitwits twist in the wind a little longer.

Even the inclusion factor of This Way Up is natural and believable, and its management of mental health issues is respectful and personal. Six episodes feel like a lifetime with these wonderful people. At the same time, it’s not nearly enough.

If the quality of the first episode of season five is at all indicative of what we’ll be seeing the rest of this season, it’s probably a good thing the show’s creators took the time to get it right. The opening salvo of the new season is spectacular: insane joke density, an ever-present silliness brushing up against bad taste, awkward social situations laid bare, and hilariously tearing classic sci-fi and genre conventions a new one.

The 30-minute episodic structure makes the series feel less powerful than the film it is based off of. Even so, Blindspotting is a welcome return to form for not only the stellar cast, but also for Diggs and Casal’s consistently encapsulating, dynamic and affecting screenwriting style.

Season Two of Betty feels like watching an identity crisis unfold. Not necessarily trying to figure out what kind of show it wants to be, or what story it wants to tell, but rather, how exactly to tell that story.