The silly, very romantic movie pretends to tell the whole truth about the meeting, mating, splitting and reconnecting of Kate and William.

The show is a string of one-liners occasionally punctuated by women in underwear (one even strips on the stand in court). The lines, if taken by themselves, are pretty funny. But, in the context of what this show is attempting to do, it's not as funny as it could be.

Combat Hospital has the look, feel and pacing of an old "M*A*S*H" episode--minus the humor and preachiness--and the soapy elements of fellow ABC hospital drama "Grey's Anatomy" (a smarmy British doctor, nervous newbies and the no-nonsense unit chief--with the heart of gold, of course). But these aren't necessarily drawbacks. This is an episodic TV drama, after all.

Alphas is fun, sure, but it has a "been there, done that" feel.

Huge egos, big tempers, blood feuds and bling.

The makeover has helped morph the series from unwatchable and unfunny into a witty sitcom about people who are desperate not to turn into TV sitcom parents.

Somebody should kiss a frog or something to break the evil spell and let this show be as much fun as it should be.

If you're a fan of "Russian Dolls," you may enjoy taking a walk on the not-wild side with these all-American Muslims.

Some of this show is funny, but you may want to put paper down on your couch to keep you from catching an STD.

It seems to have been boiled down to its simplest ingredients.

It's mentally exhausting, at least in tonight's opener, to figure out exactly what the heck is going on here, and in which reality we're placed at any given moment.

While the show can be quite interesting and even compelling--you will hear some very smart women say some very smart things--there is something very wrong here. de Cadenet confesses to being married at 16...she was 19.

This isn't ground-breaking TV, but if you're looking for a few good laughs and a lot of action without the commitment of marriage, Common Law the way to go.

The show is so slow-moving that you may find yourself fighting vainly the old ennui.

[Final Witness is] a very good true-crime show. But that voice-from-beyond narrator is just so very wrong.

The ["quirky-genius" cop] genre is getting a bit moldy around the edges--and Perception doesn't add much to the tired mix.

Not that this family of five adult sons, along with matriarch, Tina, and patriarch, Bobby Sr., aren't fascinating. They are. I just don't know if I want to live with them and all their unnecessary drama.

Hotel Hell is as much fun as the others [shows], even if the formula has been used so many times, you're ready for a new dish.

The scenes are always gritty and often very violent, which makes great TV. However, the dialogue? Whew. I mean, seriously? "She is waiting for you with breath bated!"

Chiklis chews scenery--in a good, very good way--and Quaid is terrific, but both deserve far better than what they're given here.

The supporting cast, Kate's British co-worker at the bar, BJ ("Do you know what BJ means in my country?") played by Lucy Punch, and Ben's best friend Tommy (Echo Kellum), are the glue that holds this bro and sister together. Or at least this show together.

It remains to be seen if Underemployed will have time to spread its dramatic wings and shake off its ham-fisted preachiness--but it's off to a promising, if predictable, start.

Gummer's a good actress in a mediocre sitcom; one that skirts the line between grown-up series and one that will appeal to The CW's young-girl demographic.

If you want exploitation, The Houstons: On Our Own sinks to a new level when the whole family-including elderly matriarch Cissy Houston-visits Whitney's grave site for the first time.

It’s just that we’ve seen most of this before, and despite its creative pedigree and a solid cast--fronted by the always reliable Ving Rhames and Alfred Molina--there’s not enough to set Monday Mornings apart from “ER,” “Grey’s Anatomy,” “Private Practice,” et al.

Life Is But A Dream is a vanity project that could have been a helluva film--if she had given up control and let the story tell itself.

If the crimes that drive "Law & Order" have the cops who solve them and the lawyers who prosecute them shaking their heads, the sex crimes dealt with by Special Victims will have the cops - and viewers - holding onto their stomachs.

If yet one more cop show about the brash young rookie and the older, tired guy thisclose to retirement is enough to make you go completely insane and start watching, say, “Smash” or something equally upsetting, then for sure you want to stay away from Golden Boy. However, if you love cop shows that aren’t really procedurals so much as stories about the internal politicking of the NYPD, than maybe Golden Boy is just what you’re looking for.

If you will miss Spartacus when it ends--and you like your history with a big dose of campy fun--this one’s for you, Shield Maiden.

Much of this is tediously drawn out, with crazy fly-overs between Biblical Chapters that may make you think it’s “Survivor: Holy Lands,” which, of course, it is.... Things really pick up when Jesus shows up.

It ain’t Hitchcock, but it ain’t bad. Too bad it ain’t new.

Barr is suitably creepy as Chris and McCormack--while slightly miscast--turns in a solid performance. For true-crime buffs only.

Sheen is so entertaining to watch that the series at least earns a 2 1/2-star rating. It also earns one on the basis of its name, which invites the irresistible parallel.

The thing that does give this show its grounding is the acting. Dancy is a perfect, tortured soul; Fishburne is everyman with a brain; and Mads Mikkelsen is perfectly named. What is lacking, though, is any respite from the darkness.

We won't be able to avoid the realization that "Sex" as we knew it was a lot more fun than it is as Darren Star, who persists in seeing all New York as "Central Park West," knows it. [5 June 1998, p.113]

Suspend disbelief and you’ll have fun, but believe and you’re in trouble.

This new series [is] often very good and just as often very dull.

While Swank and Blethyn make everything they’re in more remarkable for their presence, the movie plays more like a based-on-fact Lifetime flick than an HBO work of fiction.

When Vinny is one-on-one with his guests, as he says at the opening, he isn’t Jay Leno. But he is pretty funny.

Despite being loving and sweet, the documentary feels four decades too late and a million dollars short if Cher was really serious about why she made this movie--to help Holt achieve her life-long dream of a singing career.

While the cast is quite good, and they even manage to rip a laugh or two out of the material, it's not enough to sustain a whole show.

The premise is fun, but if this is CBS' attempt at "Lost," then they are, if not totally lost, certainly in need of a map. And a new writer. Some of the dialogue is laugh-out-loud bad.

The plot is clever and there's a nice twist at the end, but the actors haven't found a rhythm, nor have they developed any chemistry.

These pros deserve better than bad jokes and swinging doors.

What's missing here are the big laughs, despite Rock's clever narration.

This guy has a great personality. Building a likable sitcom around him ought to be a no-brainer. So why haven't they done it?

The Rev is a lot like the rest of us. He matured and became dull.

This would be hilarious, except that political talk TV has become such a parody of itself that watching them is more than enough comedy for anybody.

The person who steals every scene is Brett Butler as the sister-in-law.

Not that it's not a nice show, but it is precisely the kind of production for which the word "corny" was probably coined.

Since the show stars all these great TV actors... the show sustains some laughs that it wouldn't otherwise be able to wring out of bad material.

It is overlong, contrived and utterly out of place on UPN. It plays like something left over that the network needs to discard before going out of business.

Portions of "Free Ride" show promise, due mainly to the show's star -- Dean -- whose character remains grounded and sane, against all odds.

Interesting take on the biblical story, but if you prefer your Moses as a nicer guy, may I suggest you skip tonight and tomorrow night's new epic and wait for the real Moses, Charlton Heston

It's a good thing reality TV has nothing to do with real life.

The format is so complicated and the contestants so unappealing that the show misses the mark.

The format is what carries the day.

The writing is so bad that, I promise, you will sit there mouth agape.

Both soaps are perfectly awful on almost every level, which makes them nothing, if not, well, hilariously perfect soap scum.

There's a nice idea in there somewhere. Now, if CBS and the show's producers can get together on changing most of it, they might have something.

This show could use some brain surgery itself.

"My Boys" is no improv comedy, but it also relies on unnecessary narration.

This is not to say that vapid and ruthless can't work on TV (think "Nip/Tuck"). But vapid and ruthless has to be redeemed by ridiculous and funny.

The series has great potential, and frankly I can't tell you why it doesn't ever quite reach it - other than it somehow lacks, er, magic.

Wake me when it's over - please.

While "Studio 60" is/was an annoying, insidery and smug series about the inside doings of the annoyingly smug cast of a "Saturday Night Live-ish" show, "Donnellys" is the annoying, insidery and smug series about the doings of the Donnelly brothers, low-level thugs in Hell's Kitchen in New York City.

The acting's good and the actors are good-looking. But, really, wouldn't you expect something more cohesive from the folks who brought you "American Beauty?"

The ensemble company, including the always-wonderful Laura San Giacomo, who plays her friend, never misses a beat. Too bad this series--which tries too hard--misses a stanza or two.

Gunn is fine in limited doses. I like him better as a design guru than the closet king.

After a few minutes, it becomes clear that this is yet another formulaic cop drama off the "Lethal Weapon" template.

Terrific cast, some fun, but overall the writing is often as dead as Walter.

The characters are likeable enough so that you might even grow to care about them--and the show--in this arid writers' strike environment.

It's all a bit ridiculous and the writing is scary, although the stars are first rate and the locales are pretty good too.

Swingtown could have been great. Instead it's a hit-you-over-the-head production--with product placement and wardrobe so obvious it begs us to scream, "That's so authentic!"--best forgotten.

The best part of this show is the acting, which is generally excellent - particularly that of Hugh Dillon as Ed Lane, the conscience-riddled sharpshooter. Too bad the writing isn't as on-target as Lane's high-powered automatic.

This brings up the writing, which is strictly discount--and so are the plots, which don't tell us enough in the victims he saves.

It's like watching a drag show--you know, when you're supposed to laugh because we're conditioned to laugh on cue. But in reality, it's forced, er, gaiety.

The best part of the show is watching Cho's standup act. Other than that, I really don't care to watch someone pick out clothes and talk to her "Glam Squad."

The band is gold as far as kiddie parties go, but more like copper on the after-dark circuit. The same can be said for the concept vs. the execution here.

Too many serial killers threaten to overwhelm The Mentalist, whose charismatic lead character can stand on his own, if the show's producers would only realize that murders committed singly can be just as interesting as serial murders, and just as difficult to solve, too

On the up side, some of the one-liners are quite funny. On the downside, a lot of the show just doesn't work no matter how hard Mohr works it.

A new syndicated series that is like the illegitimate love child of "Lord of the Rings" and a weekend role player.

All in all, even with an accomplished actor like Hutton, there's nothing special to set Leverage apart from other cookie-cutter dramas of this ilk.

While some of the "finds" the security officers uncover at border crossings tonight at the Los Angeles International Airport, at the Blaine, Wash./Canada border, at the US/Mexican border and while patrolling the desert outside Tucson, are interesting, most are not.

The series isn't bad. It just isn't all that good.

The result, ironically enough, is a show that makes fun of all things PC and ends up being too PC to blister.

It's all dopey--and as believable as a telepathic paramedic, a supermodel detective and a partner who doesn't notice he's riding around with a psychic.

Good watching for fans of those campy, old Sci Fi original monster movies.

For fans, it's a bloody good start. For everyone else, there's always "CSI: New York" -- where you get the blood without the guts.

Lie to Me isn't terrible. From what I've seen so far, it's like "The DaVinci Code," in that it's something full of riveting information unfortunately wrapped around a dopey story and characters who should be in love with each other but aren't.

In its favor, Parks doesn't have a laugh track. On the minus side, it doesn't get many laughs.

The series, which has so much promise (and promised so much), is long on smug self-satisfaction and short on big laughs.

I found myself smiling once or twice, but mostly thinking that all this is way-too-similar to "Family Guy" to carve out its own niche.

A "reality" show so huggy-weepy that it will put even the most enraged domestic abuser to sleep.

The few plot lines that don't revolve around her sex appeal--such as her older daughter becoming everything-aphobic, Eddie becoming crazy, and Dr. O'Hara (Eve Best) moving at warp speed on her self-destruction path--are all so interesting, it makes you long for more.

This could have been a really good show. Instead, "Fly Girls" ends up just an OK flight to fantasy land.

The writing here isn't very snappy, Steve and Emmy are one-dimensional cutouts and Russell, the former "Felicity" star, looks uncomfortable playing it for laughs.

Detroit 1-8-7 is not bad and not great, though, ironically, the characters seem to have come off a Detroit assembly line.

This mommy-answer to "The View" is a somewhat dumbed-down version of that show except here the panel--Julie Chen, Sharon Osbourne, Holly Robinson Peete, Leah Remini, Sara Gilbert and Marissa Jaret Winokur--discuss traditional "women's topics," i.e. kids, cooking and such.

If "Survivor" and "Gene Simmons Family Jewels" had a love child, it would be called "Sarah Palin's Alaska.

Funny, but not for the faint of heart.

Season 2 is more of less than we've come to expect.

While the show is interesting and well-acted, ultimately, it lacks shock and awe.

The scripts are nearly line-for-line copies of the Brit version. But the scenes are over the top, the kids are too good-looking and seem to have spent too much time at acting camp.

With funnier material, they [the actors] could really make this thing work.

Granted, the acting in this two-man play is brilliant, but the film itself is strictly for master thespians on the loose--and people who are desperate to get into restaurants that won't take their reservations.

There's something secretly skeevy about self-made, self- promoting millionaires being given an hour-long, personal infomercial for doing what should be done in private--giving money to charity.

On the triumphant side, Sarah strips her psyche raw and lets us inside the mind, the heart and the life of the broke and broken princess who must find herself or die, she says right off. [...] OK, Fergie has legitimate issues. And now, she's dead broke, as well. So, she brings in "the world's greatest experts" to save her. And who are these experts? Why, Oprah's all-stars, Dr. Phil and Suze Orman, of course! Let the failure portion of the show begin!

If you love Fran Drescher, and just the sound of her voice sends you into peals of laughter, happily settle in to enjoy her divorce. If, however, her voice makes your inner dog howl, run like your rear is on fire.

Keep the money and run like hell if you're tired of reality shows that border on surreality.

Not the greatest dinosaur, er Discovery, but it's a respite from the endless 9/11 coverage that will dominate next week's fare.

The acting isn't great, some of the hundreds of subplots aren't bad, but this ain't "Mad Men" and Cibrian and Heard are no Jon Hamm and January Jones despite their desperate attempt to be.

Its two stars, Kat Dennings and Beth Behrs, who make this show bearable. With different casting, this show would be as flat as the pancakes they serve up in the Brooklyn diner where they work.

Problem is both series [2 Broke Girls and Whitney] are hit-you-over-the-head until you laugh or else.

The scariest thing about American Horror Story, the highly anticipated FX series from the guys who brought you "Glee" and "Nip/Tuck," is that almost everything in the entire show has been cribbed (or crypt-ed, in this case) from every other American horror story.

Think "Kitchen Nightmares" for dysfunctional relatives with the relationship experts coming in and making things work better in two minutes.

The only fun comes from Pressly and Finneran, who are so likeable they almost overcome the overwrought action.

There are elements on night one that actually are pretty darned scary. Too bad there's a night two.

What's mostly wrong with this new series is that it doesn't know who in God's name it is.

This one gets catergorized as both yuck and yikes TV. Not for the weak of stomach or pure of heart.

It's Paris Hilton's "The Simple Life" but with a real simpleton at the helm.

The actors are great, but the show isn't.

Strangely enough, the only scenes that aren't so dark that you need night-vision goggles to watch, are the ones with the naked ladies. Then, suddenly the lights are finally working properly. Still, there's something compelling about it all--maybe it's the era, or the clothes, or the hint that this could be something terrific.

666 Park Avenue [is] ABC's not-scary rip-off of "Rosemary's Baby."

Problem is in 1600 Penn they are shooting for "Animal House" in the White House but too often end up with nobody home.

There are twists and turns a-plenty, and Bacon and Purefoy are so good they make up for the silliness - if not the gratuitous gore.

The Americans at the moment seems to fall uneasily between the methodical and the campy.

To use some Southie Vernacular, I would just book it ("run as fast as you can") from this wicked ("very") mediocre show which appears destined for the TV barrel ("trashcan").

It’s just a big billboard spotted with interesting advice tidbits and, of course, tears.

Problem with Freak Show is once you meet the performers, and they have the obligatory let’s-get-acquainted party (what is this, “The Real Housewolves of Venice Beach?”), you’re already over the shock.

[A] very silly mid-season drama.

In the first two episodes provided for preview, the formula gets the plot across with minimal confusion, although you wonder at times if all the time-shifting and multiple storytelling is really necessary...Well, maybe. Because if this show gave it to you straight, it would run the risk of becoming just another violent L.A. cop show.

It plays like a desperate attempt to recreate all the wonder of “Downton Abbey”--but with no characters to care about.

The Wire looks and feels like an ordinary show from some other network that snuck on to the air while the HBO execs' backs were turned. [31 May 2002, p.122]

Like this movie, most of the passengers in "Mayday" are dead on arrival.

The executive producers of this series are David Mamet and Shawn Ryan, but it has none of the panache of Mamet's plays and movies such as "Glengarry Glen Ross" or "The Spanish Prisoner," and none of the blunt force of Ryan's best-known work, "The Shield" on FX.

A bad morph-job of "Seinfeld" and "Friends" but without the simplicity of the first, the chemistry of the second or the brilliance, timing, and writing of either.

This show is so cliched that it actually contains one of those scenes in which a camera makes a slow, 360-degree circle around Jaime as she gazes skyward.

Moonlight, unfortunately, doesn't trust its audience and so falls to exposition via a fake talk-show interview at the beginning, and then throughout with dialogue dully delivered by Internet investigative reporter Beth Turner (Sophia Myles).

The end result of all that effort, however, is a miniseries that's as dull and throbbing as a severe headache.

The second episode is 30 percent better than the first. Maybe by episode six, it will actually be watchable.

HBO's new series from death-obsessed Alan Ball, creator of the legendary "Six Feet Under," whose new show True Blood, won't so much make your blood run cold as it will leave you cold.

In the CW's world, happiness is rubbing elbows with the rich and fabulous, and drawing the attention of various rich boys, while a soundtrack of chick-friendly pop tunes plays constantly in the background. If this sounds like happiness to you, then by all means feel free to join this "Privileged" class. You have nothing to waste but your time.

The ensemble cast here is flat and one-dimensional--somewhat surprising, since John Masius ("St. Elsewhere") is one of the show's executive producers.

It's a format that just doesn't mesh with a laughtrack -- and when there's nothing particularly funny about what we're watching, it smacks of desperation.

The real-life Village locale (in Nambia) is fascinating and McKellen is great, as always--but Caviezel and the rest just grimace a lot and make you want to get-the-hell outta town.

In place of dialogue, we get one-liners.

The show, yet another "reality" show starring a bunch of rich people who supposedly spend all their time together, partying, fake arguing and creating drama out of nothing, is so dull, it makes "Russian Dolls" look exciting.

The fact the mystery is pretty much laid out like a coma patient from the beginning, ruins whatever suspense you might otherwise have built up.

They tried for the tried and true, hoping they'd get "The Sopranos" meets "Grey's Anatomy" while filling the hole "House" left in the schedule. And, like a camel, they ended up with an animal made by committee.

If Freddy Krueger married Regan from "The Exorcist," and they moved to "Shutter Island" with "Agnes of God" on "Friday the 13th," they'd all end up in this Asylum.

"Kings" is a self-conscious attempt to reel in the 20- to 30-something male demographic that TV is so desperate to capture. But, unfortunately, it isn't edgy, especially funny or believable.

I doubt I will ever watch a single episode of "Courting Alex" beyond this first one.

Vulgar and incomprehensibly unfunny, "Sons & Daughters" is a clear attempt to be a hip hybrid of "Arrested Development," "Curb Your Enthusiasm" and "The Office." Instead, it's just a mostly superb cast being thrown to the wolves with ugly dialogue.

The whole thing's about as enjoyable as getting stuck in a stalled subway car full of mimes.

A line-for-line ripoff of Bravo's not-terribly successful "The Real Housewives of Orange County."

One of the silliest shows to rear its dopey head this year.

"'Til Death's" Garrett, the man who made Jackie Gleason look like a disgusting manic-depressive jerk in that awful CBS movie, seems to be bringing the same unpleasant character to his first leading-man role in a sitcom.

As a talk-show host... he's a rank amateur who exhibits no discernible skills.

The improvisations are sometimes so forced that I swear you can actually see the actors thinking about what to say next.

The acting is OK, but not so OK that you can overlook their model-good-looks. I mean, no town can be that full of perfect specimens. But you would have thought Hollywood couldn't be so full of bad writers either.

Hr stupidity's a put-on (for her sake, I hope so), as is this entire show, whose concept is so convoluted that Fox had to devise a clumsy new term--"a comedy/reality hybrid"--to describe it.

Back to You is no brains.

It's a nasty piece of work filled with underage sex, vulgar, hateful kids and references to young girls that are flat-out ugly and disrespectful.

It became clear to me that Cavemen is extinct on arrival.

Even rousing viewers to stay awake would be a big accomplishment.

Matt produces two products in surplus amounts: cheese and corn. And I'm not talking by-products of animal husbandry.

The only fear engendered by this series is the fear that the NBC programming department has been possessed by Satan.

This series is a disturbingly unfunny bit of fluff that nonetheless manages to hit you over the head with its heavy, leaden jokes.

You've heard of artificial intelligence? How about no intelligence, which is the sum total of what went into transforming a 1980s TV show nobody cares about into a new, updated version nobody will watch.

NBC's unfunny adaptation of the wildly funny Australian sitcom, is arguably the worst idea for an import from the Land Down Under since Vegemite.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but you'd need rocks in your head to really love Game Show In My Head.

The series from Academy Award-winning "Juno" screenwriter Diablo Cody and Steven Spielberg smacks of smugness and self-congratulatory cleverness.

With jokes so bad, they make Carrot Top look funny, it's a tough haul for all--all around.

CBS' new social-experiment-on-a-budget-series, is one of those occasionally interesting summer replacement series that proves once more that "real" people will do anything to get on TV.

It keeps the proud tradition alive with dialogue so bad, it'll make you laugh out loud; acting so shallow, it could make a model look brainy; and actors so unbelievable, they can't even get the runway stomp right.

Hank, is one of the worst new (or old) comedies of this or many other seasons.

Daniel Henney is the new handsomest man on TV and it's a pleasure to watch him walk the halls in scrubs. But even he can't make me believe what Three Rivers is selling. For that, I'd need a brain transplant.

There's nothing fresh or original, and certainly no reason to watch this show, unless you're a fan of this ilk of staged "reality" (see "The Kardashians").

Added to these uncomfortable, setup situations are some others that simply defy explanation.

OK, not every TV procedural is dumb, but Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior? Dumb is too smart a word.

Breakout Kings is not only dumb and mind-numbingly silly, but what makes it all-the-more terrible is that all this silliness has been stolen from other mind-numbingly-silly shows.

Enter Bravo's new attempt at catching the "Bachelor Pad" phenomenon with Most Eligible Dallas, one of the most uneventful reality shows ever mounted.

For once--despite all the editing that went into making Kim the breakaway bride look like the slighted one--they will be exposed as the phony kreeps they are. And Humphries? He ends up looking like the dumbest schmo to ever appear on reality TV--and that's saying a lot!

Rob is a slapstick shtick-fest that strains to be "Modern Family," but isn't even close.

Clint's wife and daughters star in E!'s newest and really horrible reality bore, Mrs. Eastwood & Company.

There is no moral or morals to this insanity. GTL is DOA

It's all a muddled mess of computer-generated battlefield scenes, gratuitous bare-breast-and-buttock shots (men and women--there's no favoritism here) and "Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon"-type photography.

This series is about as inside-the-Beltway as Fiji, and Fincher's main plan to compensate for the stupidity level is to have the gentlemen whip off their glasses and the ladies whip off their clothes.

The jokes are dismally unpleasant and vaguely depressing.

A laugh-out-loud disaster.

A ridiculous, cloying, condescending, wrong-headed reality show.

There is a point to this mess, but what it is, I can't say.

A loser it is. Shatner's quips in real life are better and more outrageous than anything Halpern's father or Halpern himself (who exec-produces this bomb) ever came up with. Hearing Shatner deliver them just points that out.

This silly excuse for a show is made up of a great-looking ensemble in the most blatant teen-sexuality show in broadcast history.

[The] characters are so charmless, it's as if they were created on purpose to actually repel viewership - a TV first.

If you last through 20 minutes of "Twenty Good Years," NBC's new sit-no-com, you are either a saint, a madman or in a tragic and irreversible coma.

Everyone involved in creating this show should be forced to immediately seek other forms of employment. This business is not - repeat, not - for you.

Yes, if you want to hear these bucketheads argue over who engages in this or that degrading sex act, then by all means watch "Sons of Hollywood." For me, however, watching this show was the equivalent of having my faced shoved into a toilet.

"The Real Wedding Crashers" is about as much fun as going to your Uncle Fred's fifth wedding to a fat phone sex operator. In other words, a wedding you don't have to attend.

I apologize to all the Flash Gordon fans around the world. I know I had nothing to do with this series , but it's so horrible I somehow feel responsible - just by watching it.

Carpoolers tanks like the Titanic.

This "women's" show is such an embarrassing mess, it makes me ashamed to be a woman.

One of the worst new shows of the week.

This show, which was once so thrilling and fun, has become full of itself, its characters spouting crazy nonsense.

It's a horrifyingly embarrassing low-rent dating show in which a 40-year-old woman must choose one young cheeseball from among a batch of 20 spoiled curds.

The truly terrible, Lock 'N Load, a six-parter debuting tonight on Showtime, is possibly the worst-taste reality series since "The Littlest Groom"--and it took some serious doing on the part of Showtime to manage that.

NBC's idiotic drama, Outlaw, is so bad it should be listed as a Class A felony.