Brian Lowry

Yet Platonic operates in such a minor key it’s hard to escape the feel of another vanity project to feed the hungry altar of streaming. The net effect is a show, perhaps appropriately, that’s easy enough to like, and almost impossible to love.

American Born Chinese feels like about three series crammed into one, which might explain why it takes so long to get into its story. Despite good moments and the benefit of fortuitous timing – featuring Michelle Yeoh and (briefly) Ke Huy Quan after their Oscar-winning work in “Everything Everywhere All at Once” – the intriguing mix of action, coming-of-age teen dramedy and fantasy never entirely gels.

“Muppets Mayhem” is an inoffensive addition to that library, but in terms of hitting memorable creative beats, its “Electric” characters don’t come close to catching lightning in a bottle.

“Silo” is an unfortunately apt name for a series that feels as if it’s slowly spinning in circles, set in another dystopian future where the lingering remnants of humankind grapple with how they got there and what they do next. Apple TV+ has taken some big sci-fi bets (see “Foundation”), but despite its provocative themes this series inspires a little too much curiosity about when and how to find the exit.

Bupkis is at times very funny, but when it comes to getting to know more about Pete Davidson, the show’s admirable qualities are more in spite of that than because of it.

A cleverly constructed prequel to producer Shonda Rhimes’ media darling. Reaching back to the origins of supporting players, the limited series offers additional insight to how this sumptuous society came to be, while showcasing its more mature denizens.

A Small Light takes its time in illuminating that source of inspiration, but by the time its eight chapters have concluded, its big heart should ensure that there isn’t (or at least shouldn’t be) a dry eye in the house.

Watergate meets “Veep” in “White House Plumbers,” an at-times-surreal HBO limited series that occasionally feels a little too over the top, mostly because the real-life characters actually were. At its best, it’s a lightweight companion to “All the President’s Men,” presenting the flip side of all that planning and frantic covering up by what amounted to Keystone Criminals.

Citadel has the feel of an old-fashioned spy show, dressed up with sleek leads (“Game of Thrones’” Richard Madden and “Quantico’s” Priyanka Chopra Jonas) and state-of-the-art action. The time-bending plot certainly won’t earn many points for originality, but it’s the kind of meat-and-potatoes series that should find an attentive audience on Amazon, which has already tapped into a similar vein with “Jack Ryan” and “Reacher.”

Complaining that such mystery series meander too much has become a familiar gripe, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Like “The White Lotus,” “Saint X” sets up provocative upstairs/downstairs themes in an inviting location, but unlike that HBO show, it’s a relatively poor destination for an eight-episode stay.

Fatal Attraction was very much a product of its time, so an attempt to cash in on the title – as Paramount+ does with a new version – absolutely needed to reconsider and reimagine the material. Yet the eight-part series awkwardly draped over its bones is a beyond-busy murder mystery, one that – with apologies to one of the film’s signature lines – can easily be ignored.

The dexterity of Weisz’s take-no-prisoners performance makes it hard to look away, but beyond that the show doesn’t make much of a case for feasting on it once, much less twice.

Mrs. Davis earns points for pushing boundaries and then some, while proving so out-there as to become frustrating and borderline impenetrable. Along the way, it says provocative things about religion, technology and the tensions between them, but keeping track of its intricate connections becomes more laborious as the show marches on.

Created by Debora Cahn (whose credits include “Homeland” and “The West Wing”), the series exhibits a savvy and timely ear for international relations, introducing tensions involving Iran and Russia along the way....Yet it’s told with the vaguely comedic spin of a “West Wing” walk-and-talk sequence that’s difficult to sustain.

The series has established itself as at best middle-of-the-road fare, delivering yet another reminder that in TV drama as well as newsmagazines, the first order of business is asking a whole lot of questions before saying “I do.”

At first blush another anniversary-timed Waco movie/miniseries/documentary seems unnecessary, especially because we had another docuseries addition to that last bucket on Netflix. But “Waco: The Aftermath” justifies its existence by spinning those events forward, chillingly portraying the Oklahoma City bombing and rise in militia movements that grew out of the standoff.

An even darker season that accentuates the show’s ensemble aspect while leaning a little too heavily on blurring lines with flights of fancy.

Watching these episodes, with their detours and digressions, it seems fairly clear that for better or worse, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel can’t stray too far from the comfort of its old routine.

“Unstable” plays a little too conspicuously like a father-and-son bonding opportunity for Rob Lowe and John Owen Lowe, yielding a breezy Netflix comedy series that’s so lightweight it could easily just blow away.

Danny and Amy might not appear to have in common, but they share a hidden bond in their seemingly inexhaustible supply of pettiness and hostility. “Beef” takes that dynamic, marinates in it, and somehow serves up a four-star meal.

Rising to the occasion, the show gives high-school life in the ’50s groove and meaning, in a way that’s as slick as it is fun.

This really is just a redo in a different era, and the story feels particularly slight in terms of serving as little more than the connective-tissue excuse for all those ripe musical parodies. A trip to “Schmicago!” isn’t bad by that measure, but to borrow from one of those aforementioned musicals, this is another case when one singular sensation, in hindsight, probably would do.

“Pretty Baby” isn’t always pretty in chronicling everything that Shields endured, but in terms of placing a spotlight on the media excesses that surrounded and defined her rise to fame, it is, with the benefit of hindsight, pretty amazing indeed.

For now, the series still feels at best like a sleeping giant, one that inspires the reasonable request to wake me when it truly starts getting somewhere.

If you are among those passengers who boarded Showtime’s mystery “Yellowjackets” and couldn’t get enough of it, fasten your seat belts for more turbulence in Season 2. As for others unmoved by the slow pace of revelations in the twin-track drama, the first four episodes offer little hope of reaching a clear destination anytime soon.

Blessed with an A-plus creative pedigree that includes the director of “Hamilton,” writer of “Tick, Tick … Boom!” and songwriters behind “Frozen,” “Up Here” joins the growing list of musical series, in what amounts to a young-adult version of “Inside Out.” The show, however, isn’t as good as its auspices, and the music can’t mask the thinness of the story, translating into a pretty flat episodic rom-com, just with a better-than-average beat.

Still, halfway through its eight-episode season, Rabbit Hole feels like one of those marketable combinations of talent and concept that, when it comes to execution, seems to be going nowhere fast.

Executive produced by “The Shield’s” Shawn Ryan, The Night Agent has more in common with “24” than just a principled lead enduring (and dishing out) lots of punishment, with a protagonist that’s credibly heroic but still a trifle overwhelmed and human.