Allison Keene

It will be of little surprise from a Horgan project that the series’ women are written incredibly well and portrayed with humor and heart—the excellent cast shines in individual scenes and when they are together. But Claes Bang is also phenomenal as a man you not only want to see murdered, you’d like to do it with your own bare hands.

Only Murders’ second season feels more like a seamless continuation of its first rather than a whole new case, which—along with the show’s incredible sweaters, coats, and sports jackets—adds to the overall cozy and familiar feel. Essentially, everything you loved about the first season is still fully intact here, and while not perfect, it’s still a charm and a half.

Hotel Portofino makes for a relaxing getaway. It’s the kind of series that invites you to relax and spend some quality time basking in its well-coiffed drama—I simply wish we didn’t have to check out so soon.

Quiet, dark, staid, and familiar in many ways, Becoming Elizabeth may not win over any new viewers to the genre, but for the faithful it certain fills its niche well, guided by excellent dialogue and direction and full of satisfying turns.

There is a sense of rebirth here built on a new, enlightened, and empowered understanding of 21st century womanhood, wonderfully represented by the unlikely triumph of the group.

It’s like we the viewers are Anne Walker to Gentleman Jack’s Anne Lister—it knows we are prone to anxiety and melancholy, and therefore handles us lovingly and carefully, only providing what we can take on. And like Walker, it’s hard—even when faced with faults—not to fall in love.

Unfortunately, A Very British Scandal is a dull, lifeless retelling that wants very badly to say something but—just like Anatomy of a Scandal—delivers little more than banal cruelty from the extremely wealth.

Barry Season 3 is all about second chances. There are various seeds of revenge being planted, but also the powerful idea that forgiveness must be earned. Where Barry or Barry goes next is an exciting, if trepidatious mystery. But both the man and the show are earning every step.

Despite the genuinely good cast, the easily bingeable formula, and enough breadcrumbs laid out to make it seem like it’s going somewhere interesting, the show ultimately just… exists.

There are little twists along the way, too, but they come as genuine surprises rather than expected beats. Despite its familiar framework, The Outlaws manages to make its story unique in small yet important ways.

Threading in these many varied parts and themes into what is, once again, one of TV’s most intriguing pieces of performance art. But it’s also saying something in an artful way; this is not TV vegetables, there aren’t lessons to be learned exactly. There are thoughtful impressions, strange occurrences, exceptional happenstance. In many ways, Atlanta is creating its own folklore.

Ultimately, though Sanditon may have tamed down its more shocking sensibilities in a desire to be more Austen, it has sought to take the best of what she gave us and remix it for its own purposes to entertaining, if imperfect, effect. Or to paraphrase: disdain its every word, but as romance persists, keep watching.

Though there are interesting stories that play out around them [Claire and Jamie], and Season 6 introduces new faces and dramas thanks to the expansion of the local settlement, nothing ever shines quite as brightly as the two of them.

Without the strong foundational forces of previous seasons (the divorce, the Catskills, Shy Baldwin), the show’s shallow construction becomes uncomfortably visible. Season 4, so far, is a sandbox of great actors and great hats, but there has to be substance to match the style.

Inventing Anna is the perfect Shondaland series in that it is incredibly fun to watch but filled with issues. The first is star Julia Garner’s divisive accent. ... If you can get past that, though, Inventing Anna is undeniably engrossing.

It’s exciting, with each twist and turn arriving as clues to better understand this crazy place, from its smallest elements to its greatest themes. And yet, the answers to the mysteries always take a backseat to the interpersonal dynamics among the survivors.

The bottom line is that, once again, All Creatures is a delight. It’s cozy and beautifully made. It’s a throwback that feels familiar, and yet doesn’t always play out exactly as expected. Yet even when it does, it’s charming enough to make each decision work. ... It knows just what it’s about, and we love it for that.

The Witcher’s interpretation of its original text offers up something new—and that’s refreshing, both within this story and for fantasy TV at large.

The series is a strange, funny, ridiculous, trundling carnival of ideas, genres, and characters. It is great in both size and quality—ambitious, reckless, and always a joy.

Pike’s performance is layered and staid, grounding the show alongside other veteran TV actors, which helps the younger set of mostly unknown candidates for the Chosen One.

Frankly, this Chucky series makes plenty of good decisions when it comes to tone, walking a very fine line between self-awareness and self-consciousness in its storytelling—it knows what it is, but it’s not meta. The show is fully ridiculous, but it’s not trying to be anything else. It’s also creepy and gory and a slashin’ good time.

For all its faults and lulls, I wanted to keep watching. Every reveal is damning and essential.

Succession continues to be one of the best shows about royal in-fighting on TV. It’s the Wars of the Roses, it’s Machiavelli, it’s the last days of Rome. It’s addictive, but it’s also depressing. Because even in its most grandiose comedic moments, there is truth to Succession’s cynical world that makes us realize yes, these idiots are absolutely in charge of our world and no, there’s not really anything we can do about it.

Though the pacing of these six episodes isn’t particularly even in terms of its drama and revelations, the show’s overall take on this particularly tricky topic is enough to warrant wading in, especially for fans of Hawes (and really, who isn’t?).

Everything here is heightened for comedy, and yet it feels real enough to the spirit of small-town life and the awkward encounters and indignities faced, as well as the tiny, beautiful moments snatched in between.

What We Do in the Shadows is still very, very good—maybe even better than ever. But as for expectations, leave them behind. It’s so much more fantastic to not know, from one minute to the next, what awaits.

This is yet another series that wants to be taken seriously thanks to the trappings of prestige drama, but gives us nothing but dreck. And yet, it’s too boring and offensive to be camp, either. I wish it could be the kind of Lifetime movie-level story that one could cuddle up and cackle along with; instead it’s deeply miscalculated in its delusions of grandeur.

A show like this lives or dies on the chemistry of its cast, and Reservation Dogs has talent in spades. ... More than anything, Reservation Dogs is a perfect summer series, one that takes places on languid afternoons and moves at an unhurried pace.