Anita Singh

For all its sci-fi stylings, Severance will ring true for anyone trapped in a job they hate.

If only the script were as delightful as the surroundings.

Prehistoric Planet is a stunning feat of CGI. The dinosaurs look as real as any animal you see in a wildlife documentary. ... Channel your inner six-year-old and enjoy.

It plays out like a passable Channel 5 daytime film, not a supposedly prestige series from HBO. The adaptation is so lazy that episodes begin with the lead characters reading lines straight into the camera, rather than anyone making the effort to work them into the script.

It all feels as dated as Miami Vice’s fashion sense.

Director Clio Barnard (The Selfish Giant) has always been stronger on atmosphere than plot. She and writer, Anna Symon, have produced something flat, in which moments of high drama or strong emotion seem overdone.

This is where the drama excels – showing us how overworked and under pressure these young doctors are, and how much they’re winging it with no experience and not much clue what they’re doing.

The series takes its time to uncover the problems going on beneath the surface of this family. Kathleen is played in flashback by Toni Collette, giving us a chance to understand the victim in a way that the documentary could never deliver.

For those who like to get into the nitty-gritty of history, this is illuminating stuff. And at the centre of it all is Roberts, flashing that megawatt smile and bringing depth to the depiction of a woman who in her day was often reduced to caricature.

What we end up with is an underdog story, as the Brits fight to defend their agency from a takeover by appalling Americans. By the end, you may even be rooting for them.

It is the relationship between the leads that keeps the thing going, and I’m only sad that Christie didn’t write more mysteries for them to solve.

Every episode needs to push further, either to embrace the weirdness or to deliver an emotional gut-punch. None of them do.

This six-part series strays into homage, right down to replicating the moment in which Palmer gropes for his glasses to bring the room into focus. ... Cole homes in on the character’s insolence and aloofness, but doesn’t deliver on charm.

About 20 minutes in, I wondered if I had missed the first episode and was mistakenly watching the second. ... Writer Sarah Solemani has described her show as “an exhilarating, suspenseful, sexy journey”. Not yet, it isn’t.

The couple’s amicable separation soon descends into rancour, in scenes which ring true. And if elsewhere it strains believability – how is this law firm functioning, with all the madness going on? – who cares. It’s enjoyable.

If only the show had committed either to OTT comedy – the kind of thing Reilly was born to do – or to serious drama (Rob Morgan, as Johnson’s watchful father, brings a rare dignity to his scenes). But McKay’s attention is on the flashy surface detail rather than the heart of the story.

There isn’t a single sympathetic note. ... It is effective as an invitation to gawp at the upper classes, and reassure ourselves that we are better than them. And it looks beautiful – the costumes, the make-up, the interiors. The high production values and the quality cast give the impression of a premium product. But the period tropes are lazy.

Language is no barrier when the drama is such a thing of beauty.

It’s solidly entertaining, well-acted and well-plotted. Little details from the books (such as Slough House’s Barbican location) are accurately represented.

I’d happily watch a show that just concerned itself with Rani (Rhianne Barreto) and John (Darren Boyd) and jettison the rest. Rani in particular has an interesting family life, shoplifting as a way of rebelling against her parents pressuring her to get into Oxford. But the others ­– Walken aside – are dull, with poor Myrna only present so she can act as a woke counterpoint to John’s diatribes about transgender vegans.

As played by Claudia Jessie, Eloise is one of the best things here, bringing a spark that is missing from some of the bigger performances. There are times when the central relationship between Anthony and Kate seems to drag on without much passion. But after bingeing the series - in the service of this review, dear reader - their romance swept me away in the end.

Shining Vale – which Horgan has co-written with Jeff Astrof – is billed as a comedy-horror but it hovers around in the space between the two because it’s neither screamingly funny nor remotely frightening. ... At least Shining Vale is attempting to tackle it in a light-hearted style, rather than bleak drama.

It’s not terrible, if you’d like to while away the hours watching a thriller that won’t tax your brain, and there are a couple of decent twists. It just could have been so much better.

The Dropout slowly draws you in, because the stakes are so much higher and Holmes’s rise is enthralling.

After a well-paced opening episode the plot starts to drag, mainly when it focuses on a female character, Freydís Eiríksdóttir (Frida Gustavsson), back in Scandinavia while the main action takes place in England. It is much better when giving us battle scenes, or the machinations involving Æthelred's callow son, Edmund, and shrewd widow, Emma of Normandy.

If you can tolerate Brosnahan’s mile-a-minute delivery, which doesn’t let up even when she’s arrested for soliciting, there are some great ensemble scenes.

Finally, a television thriller that doesn’t feel formulaic. ... Dornan plays the role just right: his man with no name is an enigma.

The programme-makers, including Smith as executive producer, aren’t sure where to pitch it. It doesn’t have Euphoria levels of hard-hitting content, but it doesn’t have any fun either.