Clint Worthington

Much like Vandal, the real thrill of Players isn’t just the deadpan perfection of its joke delivery, but its ability to build the real-world stakes and characters of the best sports docs on top of the gags.

It’s a riveting one. ... A heartfelt and accomplished thriller that doubles as a proof of concept for Camel Rock Studios’ ability to tell Native stories in popular television genres. It’s a stellar showcase for McClarnon.

Irma Vep is a quirky showbiz dramedy with some of the most deceptively smart writing on television, and that’s worth tuning in for.

“The Boys” has grown up a bit, but it’s also grown outward, to the point where it becomes nearly impossible to truly keep track of its expansive cast of characters and the myriad politicking they have to navigate. ... “The Boys” is A Lot to take in, and the surface-level cracks in the façade of its superhero and social critiques become ever more visible.

Despite having to wrestle with some boilerplate spy-thriller tropes from time to time, the show around it (and the strength of its players) is more than enough to make up for a little repetition.

It’s hard not to get swept up in the warm, cozy blanket of these familiar settings and endearing characters, and the sweeping blockbuster nature of the thing.

“Angelyne”’s true strength lies in its nuanced embrace of the lie, reveling in the hot pink happiness she gives herself and her fans for merely existing while acknowledging the hurt and confusion she inflicts on those in her wake.

As historical fiction, as sleepy Gothic romance, as an understated showcase for its cast and crew's talents, it's impossible to escape The Essex Serpent's unexpected charms.

If you grew up in the 1990s, a latchkey kid glued to the television waiting for that signature surf-guitar riff from The Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet, there’s little doubt that the revival will give you those same feelings all over again.

It’s a bummer that “Conversations with Friends” only threatens to show us something new in the last three or four episodes when we’ve had to sit through four hours of its far-too-hazy presentation (Abrahamson’s direction is impactful, but dutiful) to get there.

Biel’s stuck playing too many conflicting notes: jealous housewife, traumatized child, Ryan Murphy-level camp queen. And really, it’s that disconnect between the low-wattage horror movie and the John Waters-y camp trappings of the story that keeps Candy from feeling consistent or all that complete.

In its painterly flourishes, and its willingness to poke at the moroseness of true crime stories from time to time, The Staircase proves gripping television.

Watching Joanna is like watching a bad improviser get picked from the crowd to go on stage with Second City, but Bayer knows exactly how to balance the go-for-it resilience of Joanna with her crippling uncertainty in the moment. It’s a real showcase for her.

As a methodical, unblinking account of the ways that the criminal justice system is designed to keep poor and minority citizens marginalized, it’s certainly an eye-opening one.

It’s this effortless juggling of tones and stories that keep “Barry” from wearing out its high-concept premise this far into its run.

As an example of the well-worn genre of true-crime docs, it's decently well-structured, moves fast at a mere three hours(!), and accurately pins down the societal ills that Gacy's predation highlighted.

The show is mostly about how the hole’s very presence affects the Abbotts and the Tillersons, and the way their animus ripples down through generations. Its ambitions are subtle but powerful, and I can’t wait to see how deep the rabbit hole goes in future seasons.

The results are hit-or-miss, as any anthology tends to be, but the overall effect is charming and incisive (even as the show as a whole suffers from some frustrating blind spots).

Slow Horses hardly reinvents the wheel, mostly comfortable with recycling spy-story archetypes with a few minor twists here and there. But when it’s this entertaining, and you get to hear Gary Oldman curse people out with ridiculously-complex bon mots in between fish-and-chips toots, it’s hard to complain about the end product.

Don’t let the stranger-in-a-strange-land story (and Elgort’s presence) put you off Tokyo Vice; it’s as moody and atmospheric as any Mann-led tale you’ll see. Equal parts journalistic procedural, fish-out-of-water story, and Beat Takeshi-esque crime thriller, the first five episodes provided to critics for review set us up for a welcome slice of lurid thrills.

When it’s focused on Michelle and Connor’s doomed romance, and the grief of those in Connor’s immediate orbit, “The Girl From Plainville” is intriguing.

Unfortunately for “Bridgerton” season two, much of the novelty has worn off the Chris Van Dusen-run Shondaland series, which struggles to replicate the recipe while missing a few key ingredients.

What we’ve seen of “Minx” is downright addictive, from its groovy period-appropriate costumes to the careful balance of sleaze and satire.

If nothing else, WeCrashed is a testament to just how long money — or the illusion of it — will insulate narcissists from consequences, and the slow burn of its progression makes the show all the more tantalizingly agonizing

For all the individual highlights “The Dropout” offers, it fails to cohere into a streamlined whole, which is more than a little frustrating.

Some of the shorts are absolutely fantastic, playing with the trappings of the show’s world to create funny or heartbreaking stories that stand on their own. Others? Well, let’s just say 12 minutes is often not enough time to tell a story.

What a sendoff it is. ... “Better Things” understands the agony and joy of these tiny chapters—the “ephemera” Phil so quickly wants to toss aside—and plays them for all their under-appreciated importance. Adlon remains one of TV’s most fascinating performers, and Sam one of its most compelling protagonists. ... But for all its ruminations, “Better Things” never forgets to be funny, suffusing even tearjerking moments with a sly, droll warmth that cuts through the waterworks.

“The Girl Before” is content to lean on its twin-timeline premise and a cool-looking house and fails to do anything interesting with either.