Will & Grace (2017)

Once the RESET button is hit, it’s just Eric McCormack (Will), Debra Messing (Grace), Megan Mullally (Karen) and Sean Hayes (Jack), pros at the top of their game, absolutely killing it.

Nothing about this reboot is a disappointment. If you were a Will & Grace fan the first time, you're going to love it all over again. This is how comedy is done.

The 2017 reboot is a blithe, fizzy mix of the familiar and new.

It’s a rare comedy from yesteryear that fits in today’s landscape, carving out and laying claim its own corner of the screen.

Essentially, the gang of four does what they did best, shooting zingers at one another, getting into social and romantic pickles, and dancing around the stage like loonies, all while the audience cackles.

In 2017, Will & Grace is still a show that America needs, because now it’s a sharp comedy about white, moneyed, liberal hypocrisy.

The return of Will & Grace on Thursday after an absence of 11 years is pretty much a success. If you liked it before, you’ll probably be pleased with the new episodes, which are well-executed and excellently performed.

Ridiculous and hilarious. In coming back “Will & Grace” risked a legacy. Right now it looks as if that gamble has paid off. But there’s a whole season’s worth of shows in front of them and a social current that changes directions faster than Jack can vogue.

It’s more than a little forced and weird to see Karen holding up a curtain swatch in the Oval Office while Grace pairs it with a Cheeto. ... What is not forced or weird at all, though, is the comedic chemistry between the four leads. Messing, McCormack, Hayes, and Mullally haven’t lost a single sassy step in their years out of each other’s orbits. ... Will & Grace is cleverly written and directed with crisp polish by veteran James Burrows.

This season’s first three episodes crackle with repartee that breezily references such modern phenomena as the gay hookup app Grindr (“I could get finger herpes from scrolling,” Jack complains), the state of being woke, “fake news” and a “Ryan scale” for potential suitors (“He’s a Reynolds-point-Gosling!”).

It may not feel fresh in 2017, but there’s something to seeing four comedic actors this talented just do what they do best, and it’s no understatement to say they have lost none of their timing or ability.

Relax. The new episodes are certainly more political and even a little gayer than we expected, but just as funny and nostalgic as we hoped they would be.

Just like old times--make that exactly like old times. Will & Grace is back without missing a beat, or updating one, either.

It's not even groundbreaking in the way "Will & Grace" was when it first appeared in 1998. But, boy, this Will & Grace is fun to watch. It's entertaining to spend time with the characters again and since 11 years have passed since I last watched an episode, it doesn't feel as tired as it did once upon a time.

The so-called “new but not really” Will & Grace maintains the same cadence as the show’s original iteration. However, as far as its actual content goes, some of the best moments are the ones that couldn’t have happened more than a decade ago.

The humor is tired in the old, comforting way--Karen and especially Jack (Sean Hayes), two of TV’s most ingenious supporting characters, spark with all their old wit. ... I have no particular nostalgic bond with recently-revived series like The X-Files and Gilmore Girls, but Will & Grace can override better judgement when it hits its rhythm. And not all of the political tones the show strikes are quite so repetitious.

The broad histrionics of Will, Grace, Jack and Karen, who are still cavorting before a guffawing live studio audience, at times seem more dated than NBC’s early reluctance to let Will have a same-sex kiss or be seen in bed with another man. But there’s no hesitancy from the actors in terms of re-committing to these roles with a vigor that still drives the series like an old Wild Mouse amusement park ride from back in the day.

Will & Grace tries to navigate a delicate line, seeking to be topical and relevant -- almost 20 years after its premiere, and more than a decade since its end -- while still maintaining its broad comedic signature. For the most part, the revival pulls that off, returning to NBC in the equivalent of midseason form.

The feeling of being frozen in time is harshly apparent in the premiere episode. ... As exhausting as the Trump focus is, the bigger issue is that it throws away the events of what fans thought was the series finale in a rushed opening that explains why Will and Grace are once again living together. However, the second and third episodes do a much better job re-introducing the characters.

The script drips with 2017 references, but the banter, the physical humor and the covalent bond holding the foursome together take us right back to the George W. Bush administration. Depending on who you are, maybe that’s not so terrible.

It’s mainly the transitions between grounded moments and zingy, moderately hostile banter that give “Will & Grace” trouble.

The premiere episode strains the hardest for relevance. ... The revival is steadier in the next two episodes, where it settles into its nimble mode of zingers, farce and slapstick. This is the sort of sitcom where, if two people walk into a fancy automated shower, you know they will get trapped in it. There’s a comfort in that. The show also retains its core dynamic.

If you missed those two, and their more broadly drawn sidekicks, they’re definitely back, and pretty much the way you remember them. ... It may be unfair to expect that series to be groundbreaking. But after all these years, it’s hard not to want a little more than the same old story.

[The premiere] Titled "Eleven Years Later," it's a clumsy bit of catching up and realigning the show's pop culture references in ways that made me cringe frequently and laugh never. ... It's in the second episode that acknowledging the passing of time begins in earnest and really benefits the show.

The innuendos would make a seventh-grader giggle. ... Mullally’s Karen remains one of network TV’s greatest comic creations, even when she’s saddled with such lines as “Hasta la homos!” Hayes’ shtick has not aged well. Messing seems to be reading her lines in the pilot. It’s not all bad. The theme song has been given a kick.