So far, Kaling's is pitch-perfect.

plenty of other characters worth getting to know in a show whose pilot holds up under repeat viewing and whose second episode doesn't disappoint.

Downsizing to television not only doesn't hurt Steel Magnolias--it may have brought it into better focus.

If you've loved every minute of Downton Abbey up to now, you'll likely still love it this season.

Bacon, always a watchable actor, is the perfect, and necessary, counterbalance to Purefoy.

The real fascination of The Americans can be found not in the lies Philip and Elizabeth tell the world, but in those they tell themselves.

I have a few quibbles about what happens after [the crash sequence], though I wouldn't think of spoiling it for the less rigid-minded. Let's just say that Abrams has a tendency to take his ideas several steps further than I might find necessary, which could explain why "Alias" lost me less than halfway through its first season. Here's hoping Lost won't wander that far. [22 Sept 2004,p. 38]

If you've seen "The Killing," you may think you've already seen some version of the story that filmmaker Jane Campion is telling in the Sundance Channel's new miniseries, Top of the Lake, but I promise you, you haven't.

Two hours can be a long time for a show that's not heavy on action sequences, but "The Doorway" does eventually take us somewhere.

From its very first scene, Hereafter manages to capture the sense those of us being left behind sometimes get; that the person going already has a foot planted somewhere else. But it also, repeatedly, hones in on the joy that can hit unexpectedly at even the worst moments.

Along the way, Tom becomes briefly attached to potential ancestors who don't pan out or aren't quite what they first seem--a not unfamiliar experience is frequently rendered funny by just a small dollop of strangeness. Sometimes it's more than a dollop, but Family Tree doesn't dwell so long on any single absurdity to make anyone uncomfortable.

And though there are a few clunkers along the way... the largely theater-trained cast is as solid as the writing, which only grows stronger in two subsequent episodes.

As long as "Studio 60" stays backstage, though - while finding something a little more interesting for the genuinely funny D.L. Hughley to do - I'm likely to keep tuning in.

An emotionally grounded thriller that might just spirit you away.

In a season overrun with "Lost" wannabes, "Heroes" zigs where so many zag, keeping the ethnic diversity, the hidden connections between the characters and, of course, the overarching mystery, but infusing them with something that feels entirely fresh and yet whose appeal is as old as comic books.

Engaging.

In a season crowded with quality dramas that all seem to come from very dark places, ABC's plucky "Ugly Betty" shines as bright as the honking big braces young Betty Suarez wears.

It's surprisingly charming, not to mention funny.

What they'll see is a film that feels bigger, if not necessarily better, than the original.

"The O.C." team of Josh Schwartz and McG keep this one fast and mostly funny, but it's no "Heroes."

But Cane--and, yes, I'd say you're also supposed to think of it as "Cain"--has a darker purpose, and one that might not fit as easily on crime-and punishment-oriented CBS, whose viewers may not all be ready to see Smits as a guy with more than a touch of Tony Soprano. I want to believe, but I'm not there yet.

Peter Krause, who looks as if he's finally going to have at least a little fun for a change as he plays a character immersing himself, however reluctantly, in the world of the ultra-rich and ultra-irresponsible.

It's like a miniseries built out of spare parts. Yet there's a reason those parts get chosen over and over, and thanks to Deschanel, whose DG plays it straight in a script that's one long wink, Tin Man brings them together to a place that feels a bit like home.

Breaking Bad is a bit of a load, more weighted than wacky, and surprisingly predictable for a show whose main character is first discovered wearing a gas mask but no trousers.

Though I took a strong dislike to tonight's patient, Laura--and was more than casually interested in no one but Wednesday's patient, Sophie--I've somehow made it through 23 episodes so far, and found something in each that advances the storyline.

New Amsterdam's pilot, directed by Lasse Hallstrom, who's also one of the show's executive producers, is as well-executed as any I've seen this season.

This is a season of politics and principles, of might and martyrdom. If you're here just for the sex, you're likely to be disappointed, unless the trysts of relatively minor characters interest you as much as Henry's.

To be honest, I'm weary of Baltar and his endless visions/hallucinations, as I am of the fleet's wandering as the surviving colonists try, somewhat fitfully, to find their way back to a home planet none of them remembers.

Aided by her 13-year-old neighbor, Maria (Yasmin Paige), Sarah Jane faces down baddies every bit as big as those "Torchwood" takes on, but with (a lot) fewer sexual overtones. Could be just what The Doctor ordered.

As the season's eight episodes progress, and she's forced to open her life to a bit of outside scrutiny, cracks begin to appear in the facade. And while that's not enough to turn her into a victim--we're not talking Lifetime here--it does gradually transform her into the character Showtime most needs her to be: someone whose company might actually be worth paying for.

I nearly wrote off Skins after the first episode. But as it continued--I've now seen three, the first two of which will air back-to-back on Sunday--I found some of the characters, including a dreamy anorexic named Cassie (Hannah Murray), starting to get under my own skin.

So while the plot points might be as far-fetched, the emotions aren't.

The Mentalist is anything but irksome, proving once again that watchable television isn't so much about originality--if something hasn't been done before, there might be a reason--as it is about execution.

ABC sticks its neck out a bit further with Life on Mars, a pretty good remake of a remarkable series that also appeared on BBC America

The plot of tonight's pilot, which involves cloning, hews closely to the original's first, dark episode. A second, included for review, seems more like a CBS show, a murder mystery I'd like to think any of the network's three "CSIs" could've knocked off as easily.

Eli is hard not to like, whether or not you buy him as a prophet.

This is not unfunny stuff, but in a week in which a show that's willing to turn a satirical eye on race might have drawn real laughs, Chocolate News feels a bit like a lost opportunity.

Stylista, which injects drama into the simple act of getting breakfast for the boss, offers other small surprises, but it's not without its icky moments.

This season, a rebuilding one for several characters, seems to be taking a less sudsy approach, focusing instead on the devilish details of how the system works (and doesn't) that can only make Brotherhood's realpolitik that much more real.

Tragedy works on Law & Order, and always has.

Yes, CTU's still dead, but the market for its most out-there operative's very special interrogation methods hasn't dried up altogether, it seems.

I generally don't place myself in that crowd [viewers who think there's nothing funnier than an overweight guy with a jock-strap tan line], being more "Elf" than "Old School," but McBride's Powers exudes a Mitch Williams-meets-John Kruk vibe that's hard to resist, and, hey, I laughed more than once.

Timothy Spall steps onto the screen as one of Dickens' most ambivalent villains in a largely unexceptional version adapted by Sarah Phelps.

NBC, which could have ripped off yet another "reality" show for 8 p.m. Sundays, instead bought into something imaginative and intriguing and, yes, a little crazy.

While I stopped being a fan some time ago, I can say that at least one of the things that I've always liked about the post-9/11 firefighter dramedy is more in evidence in the three Season 5 episodes I've watched.

I managed to gallop through the nine increasingly addictive episodes CBS provided for review.

Lange disappears into Big Edie, particularly in her later years, conveying both her frustrations and her sometimes poisonous personality so successfully that you might almost forget how much makeup was required to make her look like that. But for all Barrymore's efforts to do the same with Little Edie, she's a little too obviously making an effort, succeeding best when she's channeling her character's desperation for the world's (and her mother's) approval.

A world that admits vampires probably can't afford to deny entry to shapeshifters and the other so-far unclassified supernatural types who've made their way to Bon Temps, but there's an awful lot going on in True Blood this season, and not all of it is equally interesting.

For anyone who loves science fiction and Moore's brand of allegory, Virtuality could be an intriguing two hours.

Jane is utterly believable as the hapless Ray, who, during the show's first four episodes, lurches from one disaster to another. But his character's a little too weighted down - and, no, not by the equipment you never actually see - to make his leap into male prostitution seem like anything but a plot device forced on him by writers trying a little too hard to make a point.

It's Always Sunny is still very much It's Always Sunny, which should be good news to its many fans, especially those who may not long, as I do, for just a bit more subtlety now and then. But, hey, it's OK. DeVito and the rest are totally committed to everything they do, no matter how absurd, and more often than not, they manage to sell it.

Hilarity is supposed to ensue, but having had some laugh-out-loud experiences already this season with ABC's "Modern Family" and NBC's own "Community," I may just be less disposed to find even an outrageous parody of NBC's troubles amusing.

Like its characters, Men of a Certain Age isn't perfect, and maybe not everyone who loved "Raymond" is going to love it. But this show about men who are, as TNT puts it, in "the second act of their lives," isn't a bad second act at all for Romano.

Besides, whatever its antecedents, NBC's Who Do You Think You Are? turns out to be pretty good TV. Even if it's maybe a bit slicker than it needs to be.

I wouldn't recommend taking every word of "The Tudors" as fact, much less citing it in a term paper, but as historical fiction, it's proven remarkably robust.

People who like their stories wrapped up neatly in 44 minutes or so (yes, I'm looking at you, CBS viewers) may find this one a Bridge too far, but for anyone who likes their cops complicated and their plots twisted, there are worse ways to spend a Saturday night.

Messing, who, happily, shed most of her "Will & Grace" tics and mannerisms for the miniseries, is as appealing as ever as Molly, whose maneuvering of the shark-infested waters of the entertainment industry remains voyeuristic fun.

Yet for all the gentle ridicule heaped on Walters' character in Filth, her Mary is closer to a three-dimensional figure than Whitehouse's nemesis, BBC head Sir Hugh Greene (Hugh Bonneville).

Ben also seems to come from some money, a situation that's bound to create conflict but may also add to the uncomfortable sense that he (and we) are watching bad things happen from a too-safe distance.

Royal Pains, with a sunny star and even sunnier setting, might be just what the doctor ordered for those who can't take one more minute of pseudo-celebrity antics.

Thanks largely to some great singers and the comic delivery of Jane Lynch, packs more entertainment into an hour than some networks manage in an entire night. But sometimes I wonder if the show Fox is selling so hard is the same one Murphy's making.

The pilot's a little slow. But a few episodes in, I found I wasn't bored a bit.

Slightly harder-edged than "Amy," but just as estrogen-fueled, the best-timed show of the new season is a combination of the crime-centered procedurals CBS favors and a drama about the kind of family most of us have speculated about at one time or another.

I've seen just enough of "NCIS" to appreciate its appeal, which I suspect lies in casting and character development (combined, of course, with occasional explosions of action). Those elements appear to be part of the DNA for NCIS: Los Angeles.

Though each character in Collision is in some way connected by the crash itself, it feels at times more like an old-fashioned collection of short stories, the kind that often end, O. Henry-like, with an ironic twist.

A cut above "Harper's Island," which started off amusingly, but ended badly, "Happy Town" boasts some serious mojo in Sam Neill.

Animals that presumably form attractions based on factors other than sense of humor might indeed think it idiotic to like a guy just because he puts himself down, but there's something undeniably endearing about Louie.

I will, however, admit to being surprised by the pilot's ending, something I took as a sign that The Glades might be a fun spot to spend some summer Sundays.

The language is occasionally anachronistic, McShane's bishop is perhaps a bit too Snidely Whiplash to be believable and I'm not sure there's a subtle moment in the entire eight hours, but The Pillars of the Earth is nevertheless the television equivalent of a page-turner: Once I'd stuck the first DVD in my player, I could find time for little else until I'd finished it.

I'm not sure how many belly laughs Linney will be able to wring from The Big C, but I can't imagine a more perfect mouthpiece for a woman who's literally dying to be heard.

Mike & Molly, a romantic comedy about two people (Billy Gardell and Melissa McCarthy) who meet at Overeaters Anonymous, is, like most Lorre shows, a conventional-looking sitcom that manages to be very funny in a format that's been around for more than 50 years.

It's too soon to tell if The Event, the latest entry in the networks' race to find the next "Lost," isn't merely the next "FlashForward," since, by the end of an intriguing-enough pilot, you won't know much more than you did coming in (including whether NBC's willing to hang in there long enough for us to get some answers). But the cast is good.

It may not be an original setup, but the cast is good and the writing's better than you might expect from a former "Friends" writer who went on to produce "Joey."

Lighter than "Alias" but not nearly as much fun as "Chuck," it's serving up a couple who are maybe a little too good to be true, whether they're freeing a fellow spy or heating things up in the bedroom.

I'm not yet crazy about the formula, but it's good to see Tierney back in a series and though Truth has a different look and feel than some of Bruckheimer's other series, the polish remains.

Tonight's episode is one of those typical season openers where the writers have to undo most of what happened in the previous season's finale, but Bones fans won't want to miss it.

There's nothing earthshaking happening here, but as someone whose extended family includes both lawyers and cops--and a lot of other argumentative types--I felt the family dinner-table conversation rang true, and so did the people. For people who like their family dramas mixed with crime and a bit of conspiracy, it's a solid choice to end the workweek.

While I, too, had and continue to have doubts about the experiment--or about any unscripted show that puts minors on camera--I found the first hour of Teach to be surprisingly responsible. Maybe even a little bit educational.

I can't promise I'll make it to the end of Season 2 with Chance and company (my DVR bears witness to the fact that my eyes are, well, bigger than my eyes), but at least I'll know where Target is.

Episodes mines Hollywood absurdities for dependable laughs, it's LeBlanc, playing himself, or more accurately, a character who shares his name and resume, who elevates the seven-episode first season above simple parody as the actor forced down the writers' throats. He might even be the most interesting character in the show.

Given that the show largely consists of the animated Gervais and Merchant sitting around a table with the notoriously round-headed Pilkington, disabusing him of one oddball notion after another, it's strange that Gervais would've chosen this show to carry his name. But true believers--or fans of "The Life & Times of Tim," whose second-season premiere follows at 9:30--may well have a yabba-dabba-do time.

I liked the original and also like what little I've seen of the remake so far, but won't know until it expands beyond the original stories - as American series generally must do - whether it's worth sticking with.

It's Shahi, whose Kate may be grumpy but who somehow gets to smile more in one episode than she might have in an entire season of "Life," who lights up the screen and makes Legal a keeper.

The formula may be hokey, but Traffic Light's execution of it is charming, and funny in a way that doesn't seem to be trying too hard, thanks to some happy casting and scripts that appear to have been written with real people in mind.

The play's conceit doesn't work particularly well on film and it doesn't help that the performance took place at the Kennedy Center's Eisenhower Theater before an unstudent-like audience. But as static as the staging sometimes feels, Fishburne is more animated than he's gotten to be in a while, delivering a performance that's as funny as it appears to be heartfelt.

Bower's not the most compelling hero--and Fiennes can be a bore--but the story, however twisted, remains amusing.

This is undeniably an important story, told in a relatively no-nonsense fashion, about a complex set of events that even people who watch PBS' "Frontline" regularly may still be flummoxed by. And it's one we really do need to understand. As boardroom dramas go, "Too Big to Fail" is bigger on intrigue--and backbiting--than "Celebrity Apprentice." And, yes, it's a disaster movie. I just hope you're not expecting special effects. Or a Hollywood ending.

As USA dramas go, Necessary Roughness is about halfway between "In Plain Sight" and "White Collar" on the believability scale, but it's summer and I like Thorne, whose character is feisty and funny and shrill only when shrillness is absolutely justified.

If you're one of the people who've so far managed the suspension of disbelief required to accept that Close's Patty Hewes could yet again find a way to pull protege Ellen Parsons (Rose Byrne) back into her orbit, Season 4 shouldn't disappoint.

When I come back it's not because Rescue Me can be insanely funny--though it can be, particularly when it sticks close to the firehouse--but because I still believe that buried under layers and layers of Leary's nonsense, there's an actual story that's dying to get out.

Jenna being actually pretty adorable. And so is Awkward, which, like "Glee," deals gently and semicomically with issues of sexuality and bullying but never really draws blood.

While The X Factor may not on the surface offer anything that can't be found on "Idol," "America's Got Talent" and "The Voice" or their many cable imitators, it does have a level of showmanship that makes me want to believe again, whether it's in 13-year-olds who sing like established stars three times their age or in recovering addicts whose lives just may be about to change forever.

My favorite so far of the fall's two "Mad Men" wannabes and a show with more moving parts than a jumbo jet.

A clever send-up of life in the land of triple strollers from Emily Kapnek ("Parks and Recreation," "Hung") with just enough heart to keep viewers living there from wanting to slit their wrists.

Mos Def, Colin Hanks and Edward James Olmos play characters with a religious bent in a season that doesn't yet feel as compelling as the one dominated by John Lithgow but allows Dexter to remain the way his fans most want him--alive and killing.

Living in the Material World finds plenty to say, though, particularly in the final two hours, when Olivia Harrison's honesty contributes mightily to Scorsese's portrait of an artist more interesting than some of us may have realized.

Compared with (sigh) "American Horror Story," the tale itself makes a certain amount of sense and like any good thrill ride, spaces out the scary parts just enough to make them truly scary.

The second series, as they call it in Britain, shows signs of strain, as creator Julian Fellowes throws one obstacle after another between his sets of star-crossed lovers (some upstairs, some down).