Liz Shannon Miller

While Citadel might check an algorithm’s boxes, it fails at being distinctive enough to linger in the memory.

Mrs. Davis is big, bold, and loud in both its ideas and its execution, with some pretty stunning set-pieces across its eight-episode run. While there’s a fair bit of chaos in the mix, and maybe a sense that the show could have edited out one or two elements for greater cohesion, there’s a lot of joy to be found in the mess.

The knowledge that the end is nigh emboldens them to make huge swings from week to week, something which is a huge factor in making this season of the Bill Hader and Alex Berg-created series easily some of the best TV of the year.

The middle ground they landed in doesn’t work, which is a shame when this incredibly talented cast is on hand.

There are some dark corners of humanity explored over the course of the first season, anchored by strong characters in fascinating situations. But by trying to do a little too much at once, the impact is lessened. ... But there’s real reason to be excited for a second season, one unburdened by the need to set up the premise, and instead can focus on all these flying sparks, ready to set the world on fire.

The barbs sting as sharply as ever, while the drama escalates to the level one expects from not just a final season, but a final season of a show like this, one which has grown past its shaky early episodes to stand amongst the best series of the 21st century.

The comedy that comes in the English department’s interactions, or in the gentle wit of Hank and Lily’s conversations, makes the series a light and enjoyable watch. But it might, appropriately enough, be the television equivalent of earning a BFA — important in the moment, but unessential after the fact.

Season 2 is a far stronger season than the first, with the show never straying from its examination of how power and money corrupt the pursuit of pure and true justice. The only area where Season 1 has Season 2 beat is maybe in the storytelling.

The first two episodes of the season are not boring. ... However, things feel rudderless at the moment, in search of a destination beyond Din’s pilgrimage, in ways that seem to shout about how thin the show now feels.

The new episodes represent the platonic ideal of a series returning after a long absence: The old magic remains intact, but there are fresh new ideas in the mix, a sense of growth and evolution.

Because for all its wildness, the series remains fascinating not just as a character study, but what this character in particular tells us about our favorite stories, about the way we as a culture look at the line between love and obsession. The final word on that matter doesn’t feel like it’s been written yet.

As for Rodriguez, taking on a premise just slightly more implausible than the wild and beloved Jane the Virgin, she brings essential buckets of charm to Nell’s mopey outlook on life.

You could accuse Poker Face of lacking ambition by drawing so heavily on the past, but that would be missing the point. What Johnson, Lyonne, and the Zimmermans have done is identify what was so magnetic and crowd-pleasing about Columbo and his kin, and translate it to a whole new era, in ways that feel of the moment and fresh.

Although Season 2 is uneven and disjointed, the moments that work really work, with the final episode providing a pretty near-perfect ending.

The animation is bright, poppy, and fun, the cast is game, and some solid gags do emerge from what’s been seen so far. But even if it could get over its tonal issues in a second season, it’s hard to hope that it’ll have a chance to do so.

Woliner’s aim isn’t to deliberately prank Goldman; instead, what the series represents is the televisual equivalent to Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle. By engaging with Goldman, and helping him “tell his story,” Woliner, his collaborators, and even the audience are inevitably drawn into the experience; it’s one man’s tale, but by observing it, we’re all somehow a part of it.

What this Willow proves to be is a bold, engaging, and above all else fun ride.

It may not move the overall MCU narrative forward all that much, but it does deliver a sweet, if slight, morsel of holiday cheer.

The biggest question mark hovering over Tulsa King at this point is how deep and dark it’s capable of going, and whether Stallone (an actor who has always had a pretty tight grasp over his star persona) might be pushed outside his comfort zone into some truly vulnerable territory. The potential is there.

Few series have had the opportunity to truly capture the passing of half a century like The Crown has, and for that alone it’ll be remembered as one of 21st-century television’s most impressive achievements. And the all-star cast is as solid as the one which preceded it — it really remains impressive, how the show has consistently brought in such a high caliber of talent with each change-up.

Blockbuster features some inspired supporting performances, with Madeleine Arthur, Olga Merediz, and Tyler Alvarez standing out as cast MVPs. But the extremely forced will-they-won’t-they dynamic between Park and Fumero never comes together, due to a fundamental lack of chemistry between the two. In addition, character dynamics, exposition, and thematic messages are all delivered with blunt-force dialogue.

The guests are a lot more palatable as characters this season, with White having a very effective understanding of how to withhold their backstories in order to draw in the viewer’s interest. ... Half the fun of the early episodes is coming to understand who these people are and why they’ve come to this place together, and once those relationships are established, the season moves like lightning towards whatever trainwreck the finale promises.

In many ways, Part Two represents an impressive evolution on the original season, pushing further into the most uncomfortable aspects of the NXIVM saga and delivering some cathartic moments of justice for those whose lives were torn apart by Raniere and his lieutenants.

Think of it as a movie, because approached entirely as what it is on the surface, a low-key animated rom-com about two artists in New York, Entergalactic is a perfectly enjoyable, visually grabbing nugget of entertainment, with indeed a killer soundtrack that matches the vibes of the project.

This series is bristling with that potential, from moment to moment. Hopefully, it’ll eventually remember that, like it or not, it’s also a TV show.

Whatever’s happening with The Rings of Power, it somehow manages to put a fresh coat of paint on what came before — plus its own delicate flourishes, which might evolve into something truly fascinating.

As a Westeros history lesson, House of the Dragon succeeds, even occasionally to the point of fascination, but even after six episodes the story has yet to blossom into a true epic. Perhaps it can still.

If the rest of the season follows through on the promise of the first four episodes, with the strength of its clear and unique voice shining through, She-Hulk could prove to be exactly the sort of light divergence this franchise needs.