Sunday night's opening episode, Public Relations, delivers some jaw-dropping moments.

Homeland has a chance to be a much tighter--and smarter--endeavor with more nuance than "24" ever had. But if a cougar suddenly appears, and/or if someone comes back from the dead, all bets are off.

Stick with it, and this Sherlock proves to be a fun and exhilarating TV experience.

Those who make the investment are richly rewarded. There's enough tension, betrayal, treachery, greed and sex, after all, to fill eight seasons of "Scandal."

By the end of the opener, a web of intriguing plot lines (and their treacherous overtones) are firmly in place. As ensuing episodes unfold, the story finds its beating heart as the characters substantially deepen.

That Thrones remains so utterly unpredictable makes it even more mesmerizing.

The top-notch acting is still intact, as is the attention to aesthetic detail.

Season 6 jumps ahead in time and launches with a beautifully written, contemplative two-hour opener called "The Doorway."

Treme, probably more than any piece of cinematic fiction set in New Orleans, feels like an authentic experience. As you watch it--and slowly savor it--you can practically taste the red beans and rice.

As its lofty production price tag suggests, The Pacific is bursting with epic sprawl and extravagance. But like any effective film of its kind, it also contains a brand of intimacy that will have you bonding with its characters and caring deeply about their fates.

The lively script by Geoffrey Ward covers a lot of ground and offers keen insights via interviews, not only with experts but regular folk who lived through the era.

It's captivating, and also poignant.

An irresistible blend of soapy shenanigans, domestic tension, political intrigue and catchy tunes.

Some of the characters are so simplistically drawn that it's laughable. On the other hand, we love these characters so much and we're having such a jolly good time that we just can't resist Downton Abbey.

Initially, these and other fresh characters make Season 3 feel overcrowded--and we pity any new fan trying to make sense of it all. But by the middle of the second episode, the show begins to gain traction and sucks you in with its new set of tantalizing mysteries.

Season 3 gets off to a fine and frothy start.

Whereas most entries in the musty genre are simply inclined to go for cheap shrieks and lofty body counts, this saga defies expectations with a more humanistic approach.

The show is at its best when the confrontational tension among the humans is palpable.

To be sure, the show is like any other crime drama in that it contains darkness and violence--some of it erupting in unexpected ways. But there are enough new wrinkles here to make anyone who takes a chance on it feel thoroughly justified.

Based on the first two installments of a 13-episode season, it will continue to have viewers perched on the edge of their sofas.

The boys are at their best when mocking the absurdities of what they find on television.

But the feeling here is that Simon may have dipped into his Baltimore crime well one too many times. Tonight's pilot episode, while intriguing in spots, is hampered by a convoluted tangle of multiple plot threads and numerous characters, most of whom seem to have no interesting wrinkles. Worse yet, the story moves at an annoyingly sluggish pace. [1 June 2002, p.4]

Crossfire Hurricane deftly blends vintage concert footage, TV broadcasts, pieces of key songs and clips from other documentaries in with voiced-over highlights from 80 hours of fresh interviews with current and past band members--all conducted off-screen.

The rather trite concept is freshened up by some colorful writing that actually happens to be funny, and by engaging "Odd Couple"-like performances from Sheen and Cryer, who play well off each other. The series is also a prime-time rarity - a sweet domestic comedy that isn't overly sappy. [22 Sept 2003, p.D01]

Burns puts forth a dazzling spread of vintage clips and still photographs, and his love for baseball is palpable throughout. Fellow fans will appreciate how the film celebrates the resilience and enduring appeal of the game.

Fortunately, the new Steel Magnolias turns out to be a full 90 minutes of wonderful.

Although the show features strong performances and is piercing in its emotional honesty, it also get bogged down in its own existential angst.

It's a scattershot approach that ultimately undermines what is admirable about Luck, including some gorgeous photography.