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.