Rosewood still seems like something you’ve watched before. It’s like Burn Notice meets Royal Pains interrupted by Cops.

This star showcase does [Melissa George] no favors.... Dr. Alex doesn’t invite favorable comparisons to any doctor with dignity, and I would guess this series will not have a very long life.

Epps is deprived of the sort of good writing that would showcase his talent well.

One Big Happy is a loud, frantic sitcom so eager to please, you may want to avert your eyes.

Damien has moments of nicely spooky atmospherics, but it’s neither scary nor fun, and when you’re dealing with this topic and this character, you have to move in one of those two directions, or you’ll just lose the battle to the devil of tedium.

Except for Norm Macdonald as the voice of an alien made of what looked like quivering gelatin, I didn’t find much that was amusing about The Orville’s space odyssey. ... From its opening scene with Victor Garber assigning Ed his ship to the final, unsuspenseful shootout with alien enemies, The Orville moved from one lull to another.

This is the sort of show that could just as easily have premiered in 1997, or 1987, or 1977. ... [The] waste of talent that is most irritating about 9JKL.

The show is well-staged; it’s just that there’s not much of a show.

No one is ever going to say Fuller House is great TV, but as a nostalgia item, it will probably amuse its original, now grown, audience for an episode or two.

This new Jeremy Piven series is proving to be one of the more naive and ludicrous shows of the fall season.

Grim, humorless, and instantly off-putting.

Writer Ron McGee treats Full House as though it was a sacred icon whose pop-culture history must be maintained at all costs--in this case, the costs being believability and narrative momentum.

The problem with Schwarzenegger is that, unlike Trump, there’s no relish in his malice, no delusion in his self-importance. Trump was fun to watch because he took his own fame and authority seriously at a time when he could be dismissed as a pufferfish in a three-piece suit. Schwarzenegger tries for some of that bluffness--reaching for a thick cigar after “terminating” someone--but it comes off a little desperate.

[A] sordid enterprise.

If Making a Murderer, The Jinx, and the first season of the Serial podcast heralded a new era of true-crime stories, this one is tediously told.

At one point, a character scribbles "Donny Douche" on a pad for no reason other than, perhaps, an attempt by the producers to forestall some critic from using that phrase in a review.

Featuring unconvincing dialogue. ... Notorious is otherwise instantly forgettable as soon as each scene is completed.

[A] brutally crude dramatization of the crime and its aftermath.

Really, if you need a watchdog group to tell you to stay away from a show lets people air their steamy details while moist perspiration clings to silk pajamas left over from Hugh Hefner’s Playboy Mansion closet, you might be gullible enough to enter... the Sex Box!

The opening hour, premiering Wednesday after Survivor and Criminal Minds--and those are exactly the two shows Beyond Borders combines with appalling cynicism--finds Garrett and his team winging off to Thailand, where a couple of young American women, volunteering on a farm, are taken captive by a demented-looking local. (Given that despicable behavior by foreign populations is baked into its premise, Beyond Borders is, you can be sure, going to be charged with xenophobia or worse by some offended viewers very quickly.)

I’d like to say that Marvel’s Inhumans is so spectacularly awful, it’s worth tuning in just to witness the superhero train-wreck. But alas, Inhumans does not even yield sarcastic pleasures--it’s just bad. Bad in a dull way, bad in an irritating way. ... Marvel’s Inhumans is just inhumane.

One of the more cynical and repulsive of new reality shows--and that’s saying something, I know--The Briefcase is all the more reprehensible for passing off its exploitation of people in beleaguered financial straits as uplifting, inspirational TV.

Truth Be Told, is one of the lamest of the year, making bad jokes about current issues ranging from racially-charged language to whether John Mayer appeals only to white people.

The Leisure Class is every bit as pinched and humorless its director.... It’s a piece of predictable hackwork.

If you aren’t watching Banshee, I’d say now’s the time to climb aboard. It’s a show that’s just hitting its stride, and that stride averages about 100 miles an hour.

The infernally clever, multiple-Emmy'd producer Bertram van Munster has found a way to make even a dating-game theme interesting.

We don’t even get away from those awful homages to Edgar Allen Poe that used to stud the show’s Joe Carroll scripts--the new season contains murderous rhymes with terrible scansion such as, “While you lie/More die.” Written in blood, of course.

We get a lot of variations on other reality shows--when a barber is eliminated here, Cedric intones, in the manner of Jeff Probst on Survivor, “Sorry, you’ve been clipped” --and a lot of dull observations from the judges about technique. Trips to my own barber are more entertaining than this.