Maybe you can appreciate this series without the fear that you will be expected to write a thesis on it. But I urge you to heed my advice: Opt out while you can.

It’s an educational, entertaining, warts-and-all look at something that deserves our better understanding.

Not all of Unsupervised's jokes stick their landing, and the content is on the crude side. But I'm willing to check up on Gary and Joel every so often to see how they're acting out while growing up.

The bottom line is this isn't a show you tune into for sophisticated narrative, innovative plot twists and complex characters. It's a sexy, soapy period drama that's as fluffy as the tails on its buxom stars' backsides.

Tonight's premiere episode doesn't have a single laugh in it.

You can see the script and directional tone holding back the actors.

Maybe School Pride doesn't have the drama of a single sob story, but by the end of the pilot you'll feel both ashamed and inspired. This is what it looks like to volunteer, and there's no reason why you can't do something. Go team!

These tall tales flow into a stream of consciousness. That's good. The acting is convincing. That's good. The Irish stuff is heavy-handed. That's bad.

"Hidden Palms" isn't totally odious. After the bad acting in the initial daddy suicide, the show calms down and holds mild interest for its bikini hotness, cool blue pools and unapologetic stupidity.

Presumably, the actors will settle into their roles and get a better grip on timing and volume. They're over-the-top for material that's already zany.

You have no idea how much restraint I'm using not to call it "Crummy." Oops. Lost the restraint.

It's just a younger and hotter and stupider and drunker "Law & Order" office.

"The Winner" quickly metastasizes into a routine sitcom with laugh tracks and Ye Olde Storylines.

His light blue eyes are so piercing you may forget that his special skill isn't X-ray vision. But he's supported by writing and characters that may induce eye rolling.

It's not a great show, but it's a good concept.

This show may convince us the Simmonses are good people. But there's not much catchy drama in following the evolution of a teenager's party planning.

While Unhitched certainly contains its share of gross-out moments, these moments all feel so hopelessly forced and happen to characters we care so little about that they don't carry the comedic weight they should.

Anger Management is a so-so sitcom peppered with equal parts funny lines and groaners.

The show's appeal is its breezy verbiage and well-suited cast.

Perfect Couples is almost there; "Better With You" is almost there. Maybe if the shows conjoined, the chemistry would be right.

After watching two episodes, I'll admit to being mildly curious about what happened to Riley's husband. But I can't bring myself to sit through more of this silliness to find out if there's a happy ending.

Some may take issue with the cynical tone of both series [Saving grace and The Cleaner] or the fact that there is very little divine intervention in either.

What follows is a silly, youth-oriented CW drama packaged as a fish-out-of-water yarn.

[A] ridiculous rendition of a plucky, working-class gal (Janet Montgomery) who shows 'em all how it's done at a fancy-pants Manhattan law firm.

It doesn't sound great on paper: A documentary film crew interviewed a "Breakfast Club"-type group of high school seniors, and now is revisiting them to see how their lives have changed in the 10 years since. It would be interesting if it were real; it's not. Nonetheless, I got drawn into the 3 star drama--because, believe me, these kids have changed.

Scenes that work are funny... Scenes that fall flat are merely blah, rather than stupid.

The show is a refreshing alternative to the typical diva docu-series, where overly cosmeticked prima donnas stir up drama in their perfectly appointed mansions.

Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior is a solid addition to your evening lineup.

This embarrassment of riches isn't necessarily an embarrassment, but it's not the slam dunk it should be, either.

It's kind of good.

I hope Andrew (David Hornsby) has penned an etiquette column on how a gentleman handles getting canceled by a network, because he's going to need it.

The show should focus less on catty hospital politics and more on the inherently compelling conflict of a person who has good reason to do bad things.

And that's me, faster than Usain Bolt, changing the channel.

There's peril in traveling the well-worn path of unrequited love and adulterous wives. But what makes this beginning of "Brian" work is that the characters are nicely drawn archetypes, not stereotypes.

Most of the characters are about as distinctive as mannequins. You won't mind, though, because they're awfully nice to look at. But the disgraced supermodel is played by Mischa Barton, and this is where the show may achieve inadvertent poignancy.

Those of you who miss "Six Feet Under's" opening minutes each week--when you had to guess who would be spectacularly killed, and how--will enjoy the violent and graphic start of "Miami Medical" each week, too. But that's about all it's good for.

The world of TV benefits from having another good show, with relaxed Spade at the desk, mocking the Stepford-like trance with which entertainment-news shows like "Access Hollywood" mindlessly idolize stars into saints and sinners.

Any effective moments are outweighed by thumpingly obvious sentimentality, hospital stereotypes, and undignified "girl talk."

The problem with "Treasure Hunters" is the same problem with "Amazing Race": It just feels like all the competing teams are spinning their wheels by solving clues.

It's skank-errific, if flawed.

It demonstrates how a show can be a run-of-the-mill cop drama despite a talented cast and a few interesting twists.

As each new element is added, explored and explained, the tension evident in the original novel gets watered down as we digest these other distractions. The result is completely devoid of any suspense.

t's not perfect. A few situations and lines are hyped-up "Sex and the City" moments, like when a distraught Lipsticker complains, "I need a cupcake." But if you can moan your way through such moments, the show gets more serious as it goes.

"Dirt" gets the ingredients right (the tone, acting and pacing are swell), but the dialogue doesn't make it addicting enough to watch, and the editing could be slicker more often.

Gallagher's played by Chris Vance ("Prison Break"), who tries to overcome the cheesy script with a British accent and a little dignity. He fails.

There's nothing original about the series that wasn't already covered in "L.A. Law."

"Four Kings" is a strange thing. The first episode of the new NBC comedy reeks. But there are moments in the next two episodes that make it seem as if it has the potential to be a male version of "Sex and the City," minus the naughty stuff HBO could show that NBC can't.

One of the most puzzling things about TV this year is the mere existence of this catastrophe. It is a huge, huge pile.

NBC's new "Thank God You're Here" doesn't start out as strong as I'd hoped. It has potential, though.

The cast is a fine one. The chemistry works between Elfman and Randall. The weakness of "Alex's" premiere -- and not future episodes, I hope -- is the overwrought script.

The absurdity of an omniscient sophisticate still in short pants carries plenty of comedic potential.

If you don't have a support group of pals to compare notes with, you could do worse than The Talk. Let's hope it stays lively.

This overly ambitious series tries to do way too much and ends up doing nothing particularly well.

I'd rather watch just about anything other than "Fly Girls."

The most confusing ensemble drama of the new season.

This is annoying beyond my comprehension.

The half-tense dramatic payoff is a pleasant surprise, but the bluster -- oh, the bluster and machismo are palpable.

All this obvious plot about baby showers, maternity peeing and big-belly clothing is unbearable.

What's not fun? At least half of the rest of the show.

My name is Clint, and I'm a big stupid doofus from Texas starring in a new "docu-soap" called Nashville, where me and a bunch of other country singers try to become famous, like those girls did on "Laguna Beach: The Real Orange County."

It's got snappy writing and superior stars, but treat yourself by looking up the original shows.

The only funny moments came from Omid Djalili, who plays a sub-dollar-store merchant and cat-tracking hobbyist.

The only thing hokier than the show's preposterous premise is the writing.

I expect more from you [Jimmy Fallon] than this insipid sitcom.

I expect more from the creators of "Will & Grace" than this lackluster comedy.

If Matt and Emily blow up, the show doesn't get a second episode. Because they'll be dead. Keep your fingers crossed.

The first episode is OK. Predictable. Standard. But Garrett's funny, and he and Fisher work great together.

It's slicker, more ambitious and has more chuckles than expected.

The basic concept isn't bad. It's nice to see a captain of industry humbled, particularly now, but even that is unsatisfying in Hank.

At first, this new comedy about four mostly wimpy dudes seems just stupid, but some of it is decent.

The group's personalities and their exploits pale in comparison to the Ron Ron juice-chugging, Jersey Turnpike-dancing cast of the "Shore." And as those sunscreen-shunning, sloppy drunks will attest, pale is never good.

It should get tighter as the season progresses. But I already laughed several times at the silliness of this week's first episode, which is more than I can say for most sitcoms.

I think I could have written a better script during the two hours it took me to watch "Have No Fear." I think you could, too, and I don't even know you.

Man Up! has potential, especially if it stops belaboring its premise with Will constantly harping about his masculinity feeling threatened.

Aside from a few funny jokes padded between layers of groaners, there's quite a bit to hate--or at least strongly dislike--about Fox's new sitcom.

Like the main character herself, the show is crude and rough around the edges, but you can see glimmers of potential.

Prepare yourself for preachiness in the third degree. Mr. Smits went to Washington, and now is sharing his moral righteousness with the rest of us.

Satiric comedy only works if it's funny. And in this case, it's not.

Snooki & JWoww is further evidence that this gym-tan-laundry cult is more entertaining as a band than as a bunch of solo artists.

An anemic, unfunny romantic comedy.

The problem with "High Society" is that we don't love or hate the characters. We just want to shave their heads.

"Teachers" is never not lame.

With the exception of the bull-ride-gone-bad scene, Bristol's day-to-day life isn't very interesting.

We're supposed to believe that there's a nice guy lurking underneath that misogynistic, bigoted shell. But just like everything that's for sale at Outdoor Man, I'm not buying it.

Dramatically speaking, what douses a bit of the fire of this ensemble show are a few non-compelling characters and/or bad actors.

The show's weakness is that not a lot of interesting or funny stuff happens on the bus or in their touring cities.

The new premiere isn't horrible, and it shows some promise.

It suffers from too much gloom and glam.

Has a lot of forced backstory writing.

The result is a "partially scripted reality show" (whatever that means) that edits scenes so as to make people look ridiculous while clashing over artificial constructs.

It's awash in sudsy Bo Derek and Morgan Fairchild, plus a bit of Tippi Hedren. But slow tension fails to fill the first episode, and the acting is a tangle of scorns.

"Tuesday Night Book Club" has the effect of making viewers wish to live somewhere less petty and self-destructive than America, or at least the Scottsdale of this show.

Oh, and there's a very pink teapot on their coffee table. It's easy to take note of such set pieces when you're in the process of not laughing.

It's a few chickens short of a flock.

It serves up 25 attractive women willing to sacrifice their dignity--and future--to win a possible husband in what amounts to a glorified game show. [22 Mar 2002, p.49]

Charlie's Angels is proof that angels exist in hell, because that's where it felt like I was during most of this hourlong drivel.

I've laughed more at my own ex-mechanic, who rode a bicycle to his shop because he racked up too many DUIs.

"South Beach" isn't the terrible waste of viewing time a cynic might expect. But it is a conventionally drawn, sudsy soap.

I will be rooting for this series to improve, but not watching it.

A low-rent "American Idol" ripoff.

What is special about "Ghost Whisperer" is the way it gets everything else right -- casting, acting, writing, directing, pacing, music, you name it.

The only times Rob flirts with funniness are when the stereotypes get turned around

If this is America, I want out.

Negligible.

"Rules" and "'Til Death" bear exactly the same ups and downs. The ups: essentially a good cast, plus sporadic funny lines. The downs: many un-funny lines, plus rehashed storylines from a thousand episodes of married-life sitcoms dating all the way back to "The Honeymooners."

Obviously, beware of salty language, but also beware of joke setups that belong in a vaudeville act. The corny tone begins and ends with Shatner; he's supposed to be playing a curmudgeon, but he just comes off as a ham.

"Stacked" should be set someplace other than a bookstore. It's hard to imagine these idiot characters being able to read anything longer than a grocery receipt.

"Desire" is (I can't believe I'm saying this) good. Compelling. Stupid. Well-acted. Not terribly written. Funny on purpose. Better than most series on TV.

[Liz & Dick] isn't offensively bad. But it is by no means good.

Where "Party" goes awry is by trying to be an hour. That's twice as long as it should be. There's more fat in it than a Popeye's biscuit.

It squanders committed acting and funny lines by draping them over a suspect premise.

There is one fantastic thing about this show. It's only a half-hour.

A rote TV drama.

Bad sitcom, bad.

"The Game" is such a predictable drag, it's hard to keep your eyes on it. It's like watching traffic or a catnap or a Bunsen burner.

Its characters annoy more than entertain, its boutique hotel setting is uninspired and its comedy just isn't funny. An early checkout from the fall season is all but guaranteed.

On most reality shows, contestants who win a challenge receive a prize - an immunity idol, say, or a rose. On "Bridalplasty," these are the words you long to hear: "Come grab your syringe and go down to the injectables party."

I'd be inclined to dismiss this as lighthearted children's fare, like David Hasselhoff's original "Knight Rider" from the '80s, but the violence, dialogue and skin shown on this version aren't exactly kid-friendly. Not even kids should have to suffer through this, though. Here's hoping KITT and crew get booted.

It has moments of being so-bad-it's-good, which is to say it's at its best when it's a near-satire of the genre. But it drowns in redundant action scenes and sentimentality.