The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

Brosnahan’s casting is impeccable. She’s so charismatic that things can dull a bit when she’s off-screen, if only because her deftness with Sherman-Palladino’s script is so captivating. ... The series belongs to Midge, and you live for the final moments each episode when she pours her inner thoughts and keen observations out onstage.

Bursting with old-fashioned charm, Maisel is shot in the style of Woody Allen’s nostalgic comedies, with a jazzy soundtrack of old standards and an eye for the beautiful chaos that is life in the Big Apple. There’s sly, quotable humor throughout, of course, but also a strong feminist streak.

It’s obvious from the four episodes I’ve watched that Brosnahan is giving a superb performance and that Amy Sherman-Palladino knows exactly where she’s going with the stories she and Dan want to tell. ... Gilmore Girls can wait--wait for Mrs. Maisel to burrow its own distinctive blend of comedy, drama, and romance into your heart and mind.

Jauntily paced and cleverly written, the wonderfully engaging Mrs. Maisel is packed with winning regulars (none more so than Brosnahan's Midge), witty banter (a Sherman-Palladino specialty), sensational supporting players (including Kevin Pollak and David Paymer) and an exuberant sense of optimism (despite the obvious and incredibly daunting obstacles a female comedian faced in the late '50s).

This main character is so engaging, though, that it’s easy to look past the glacial pace. ... Brosnahan is surrounded by a cast as strong as she is. ... Beyond the stellar cast, Mrs. Maisel works amazingly well as a period piece.

While her routines aren’t that funny, they also aren’t boring. Through four episodes, neither is the series. With a much-needed message for our times, a talented ensemble cast, and the period appeal of a “Mad Men”-with-a-feminine-flair production design, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is well on its way to becoming the next obsession for “Gilmore Girls” devotees.

The show drops in lovely little moments, funny, melancholy and insightful.

On its face, this show is a solid new entry in the Sherman-Palladino pantheon of wisecracking heroines and the assorted people who love them. But The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is also a stellar showcase for a woman unleashing her full fury and potential in a way no one--least of all herself--saw coming, or will soon forget.

It shouldn’t work, but it does. Brosnahan, who had a memorable arc as a vulnerable sex worker on House of Cards, is enchanting as Midge. She’s both a naif in a man’s world and consistently underestimated.

It helps that the tone stays snappy through it all, but it also becomes grating. Even so, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel pulls off an enviable feat in making us fall in love with a story about ambition and dreams while flirting with ideas about a woman’s role in the spotlight, on stages and in history. And it does this without taking itself too seriously.

It’s a stylish, fun show that is neither punishing nor idiotic, an escape from reality that is tethered, ever so lightly, to reality.

Mrs. Maisel plays like one of those delightful and sunshiny movies that take place in the past, such as “My Favorite Year” or “A Christmas Story” or “That Thing You Do!” All of those committed the misdemeanor of being too on-the-nose, but made up for it with a genuine instinct for warmth. That’s how “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel” succeeds, too.

It’s much, much more exciting when Midge is at the center of the frame, all by herself, or sharing it with Susie, whom Borstein imbues with charming sarcasm and occasional peeks of vulnerability.

One of the most charming new shows of the year drops on Wednesday, a last gasp of 2017 TV before the top 10 lists start surfacing.

Ms. Brosnahan brings her [the character Midge] alive from the opening minutes. ... In word and deed, Mrs. Maisel is expansive and expressive. It talks with its hands.

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel tells its story with verve and wit and warmth, and it digs deep enough into Midge’s psyche so that we can understand just how well she understands the dilemma that she and Lenny Bruce share.

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel lives up to its billing with a wonderfully fresh attitude, lovingly capturing a conformist period vibe. [27 Nov - 10 Dec 2017, p.8]

The upbeat optimism of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is a baked-in Sherman-Palladino formula that worked with Gilmore Girls and makes this new series addictive.

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is a delightful, well cast hourlong comedic drama that occasionally detours into darkness but then quickly bobs back into the light.

It’s not surprising that Sherman-Palladino’s dialogue sparkles, but she also effectively captures the time period, injecting just the right amount of quirkiness into the historical context. The set design, costumes and visually inventive direction (often from the creator herself) lavish as much attention on Midge’s home life as her professional aspirations, filling both with rich, rewarding detail. Marvelous is an understatement.

Mrs. Maisel stays grounded in Midge's specific (if incredibly privileged) experience. Like its protagonist's comedy, the series thrives on the personal, turning one woman's journey into a story that feels particularly apt as women in entertainment today are speaking up about sexual harassment and abuse.

Mrs. Maisel can--yup--be chatty to the point of exhaustion, and a little can go a long way. But what’s here is worth savoring and, if you can get past the verbal gymnastics, worth the trip.

Brosnahan is full of the spit and vinegar that makes Midge a character worth watching. Performances by Shalhoub and Zegen help bolster the dysfunctional and oppressive family dynamic. But the show would be better served by 30-minute episodes rather than hour ones.

This handsome comedy is uneven, but like Sherman-Palladino’s “Gilmore Girls,” it contains gifts that will appeal to fans of verbal combat and realistic depictions of complicated friendships among whip-smart women.

There are great one-liners, endearing performances and a visually opulent representation of New York in the nascent “Mad Men” era. But the world of the show simply doesn’t make sense.