Alan Sepinwall

Blindspotting the movie may not have seemed a natural a choice for spinoff treatment, but nothing in this smart new series feels off.

As before, Betty remains a mix of gentle comedy and unexpectedly potent drama.

It’s a lot to squeeze into a short season with short episodes, and parts of it can’t help feeling rushed. But much more of it works than would seem possible under these conditions, and in many ways the second season is even more satisfying than the first.

There’s probably a more spiritually faithful adaptation of the comic that could be interesting in our own pandemic-altered world, but it would be hard. Filtering the material through Gus’ (occasionally glowing) eyes creates just enough distance from reality to make the YA-style adventure feel like its own often thrilling thing, rather than yet another awkward reminder of the world beyond our quarantines.

This is a very funny show, with a cast of versatile and game performers. Anjana Vasan is a particular delight, with an innate understanding of how to get laughs just from small changes of expression, intonation, and posture.

Is In Treatment still a niche show a decade after Paul Weston disappeared into a crowded New York sidewalk in the Season Three finale? Yes. Is it still a great show? Absolutely.

The 55-minute opening episode effectively sets a mood and the state of the marriage, but can feel self-indulgent next to the second and third episodes, which both clock in at less than 30 minutes (albeit at times feeling longer than that). But those viewers willing to be patient will find reward in the penultimate episode. ... “Moments in Love” is a gamble that doesn’t fully pay off, but it’s great to know that after years apart, Ansari and Waithe were willing to try something both so different and yet so true to the larger spirit of what the show was before.

Every now and then, the miniseries finds a burst of inspiration. ... But Halston the TV show feels like something you’d find on the clearance rack at Penney’s, rather than the bespoke tribute that such a singular vision deserves.

The episodes move briskly, though Run the World suffers a bit from the protagonist problem, where Ella’s stories tend to be less compelling than what her friends are dealing with. But even that’s not a huge issue, since Davenport largely treats it as an ensemble, with Ella simply our initial way into the story rather than our guide throughout.

Hacks really sings when it puts its two leads together to annoy, insult, and occasionally learn from each other. Would it help if the jokes the two work on were stronger? Sure, but Hacks also talks a lot about how hard good joke-writing is. It gets everything else right, so it deserves the extra time to figure that last part out.

The Underground Railroad is an imperfect take on a painful, sprawling subject. But its emotional highs and lows are stronger than anything you are likely to find on TV this year, just as those images are more gorgeous and nightmarish. Don’t look away.

It is a stultifying mess of a show on pretty much every level. It’s meant to be viewed with utmost seriousness, yet it feels like a parody where someone forgot to insert the jokes.

Sitcoms, [unlike dramas] though, have more of a learning curve, which is why the second seasons of shows like Always Sunny or The Office are so much better than their first. Mythic Quest fits neatly into that tradition, having translated a lot of its potential energy into real, kinetic laughter.

It’s all endearingly daffy, even if keeping up with the logic behind each joke can sometimes feel like work. ... But the show nicely scratches a particular comic itch, even before Fey herself pops up for a cameo, doing a celebrity impression that rivals her best SNL work. Fey didn’t create Girls5Eva, but it feels enough like her work to get by.

The Mosquito Coast mostly left me impatient for the show it’s eventually going to be, rather than the one it is at the moment.

Rutherford Falls feels like it’s still figuring itself out in these early episodes provided to critics. But until it gets there, Reagan’s best friend may try your patience as much as he does hers.

Big Shot, while perfectly amiable in most respects, often fails to sweat the details in the way that a tough coach would demand.

Mare mostly does well treading over territory as well-worn as the fictionalized Easttown itself, but without that extra creative spark that’s elevated similar projects like True Detective and Top of the Lake above the grim story at their hearts.

Them: Covenant, on the other hand, has a lot of promising things going for it, including strong lead performances and unnerving atmosphere in every scene. But it’s hard not to notice that the show spends 10 episodes dragging out a nearly identical story to what Lovecraft efficiently told in one. And after a while, the new show’s individual strengths crumble under the weight of its sheer size.

[Chad] seems to have nothing but contempt for its title character, who says and does the wrong thing in very situation, then find ways to keep doing that again and again. [Apr 2021, p.75]

The Nevers still feels like a Joss Whedon show, for good and for ill, with most of the downside that comes from his work and only occasional glimmers of what made him beloved before he became toxic.

The real question with Gangs of London is just how much loyalty should be engendered by one fabulously orchestrated bit of ultraviolence in each hour. Because outside of those big set pieces, it’s a competent but unremarkable crime drama with a pretty good cast.

Magnussen and Romano are fun, too, and the show does interesting things with depicting how terrible the world has gotten under the shadow of men like Byron (in one scene, Hazel walks past a wall with the graffiti message, “Every morning, I wake up on the wrong side of capitalism”). But Milioti is the main attraction.

Graham is charming as always even with thin material, and it’s not hard to see that Game Changers is just slow-playing Gordon’s emergence, in the same way that Cobra Kai treated Daniel LaRusso as a minor character when it began. These early episodes are pleasant if a bit dull.

While Amazon is billing this as an “adult” animated series, that’s only in the sense that there’s ample gore and profanity. The designs (modeled on Walker’s art from the comics) and most of the characterization and plotting feel more suited to an all-ages show — a very good one, at that — but then someone’s head will burst onscreen. ... Still, it’s fun, and Yeun, Simmons, and Oh make for a strong central ensemble.

Generation is comfortable just following the kids around and letting them exist. It’s a bit more uneven when things get plottier or when the focus shifts to the grown-ups.

The differences in narrative style and tone between Gilmore Girls and Ginny & Georgia are striking enough that the attempt to feed the algorithmic beast could backfire. But for those who don’t mind their heaping spoonfuls of small-town drama mixed into a much pulpier stew, this new series may satisfy as much as the older one.

Tragedies in theory shouldn’t be much fun, but with It’s a Sin, the parts that will make you smile are at least as important, if not more so, as the ones that will make you cry.