Lucy Mangan

City on Fire is overall a quality product from Apple’s reliable conveyor belt.

The Muppets are great too. As funny and believable as ever, brilliant as an ensemble and apart – and there is even a small but monstrously touching backstory for Animal that may just start you crying again, even after all your hard work. Among the human elements, things are less successful (aren’t they always?).

Silo can be read as a lot of things. ... But before all of that, it is a fantastically made story that embraces classic tropes and cliffhanger endings as enthusiastically as it does delicate characterisations and deferred gratifications. Dig in.

The series is a rare exception to the rule of prequels (generally substantially worse than the originals and undermining all previous endeavours) and will hopefully set many of its younger stars on the road to success. Amarteifio does especially well.

It is basically televisual crack. Twists, turns, explosions, old-fashioned fisticuffs, the deployment of outrageous gadgetry from Acme’s Deus Ex Machina range, torture scenes, new locations (the Alps, London, all over the States, Paris, Spain, Iran – I may have missed a few in my delirious, glassy-eyed state), are parcelled out in one long, glorious stream.

Promises to be a rather magnificent drama, with a lean, dark, genuinely funny script by Alice Birch and two knockout performances by Weisz.

After a slightly turgid opening episode, The Diplomat becomes a hugely enjoyable ride and, while Russell rules the show, everyone around her is a brilliant addition and support.

It charms you into watching and thinking instead of pressing a foot on your neck and pushing your face into the mire. I for one am grateful.

The Night Agent is set fair to deliver a lot of bang for your 10-episode buck.

Everything we want and need is still here. ... The opening episodes of each season of Succession tend to subsume the family dynamic in the corporate intrigue, because there are always so many pieces not just to set up but to explain to a lay audience. This seems to have opted for a more equal balance.

The plot becomes rapidly and pleasingly complicated without losing any sense of narrative.

It cuts the sweetness with just enough vinegary exchanges to prevent the whole from becoming sickening. It keeps the main man just the right side of folksy rather than village idiot, and knowing that every tiny glimpse into Coach Beard’s hinterland is worth the price of admission alone.

It is clearly a heartfelt film, but not blinkered, and while his personality suffuses the whole, he makes sure to get out of the way of the women telling their stories and lets them own the screen for as long as they need.

There is less Willow (Renika Williams), so far, than last time, which is a great sadness. But the rest are all present, correct and adding to the general sense of a show bursting with good things: talent, energy and wit to burn.

The warp and weft of lives, of life, is as expertly woven as ever and you couldn’t wish for a better group of actors to bring it to you. Happy new year.

This latest offering from the crack team and Sir David accomplishes its goal as effectively as ever; it makes us, in the best way, children again. You cannot stay unengaged, you cannot remain unmoved by the sight of nature in all her glory, or unawed by the sight of creatures honed by countless years of evolution to survive the apparently unsurvivable.

It is as gripping, fun and stylish as the acclaimed Giri/Haji, without quite its narrative innovation. But it is stuffed with good performances, knotty problems and is compelling enough to keep even those of us who, much as we may wish otherwise, don’t quite understand what’s going on coming back for more.

An astoundingly tough, vigorous, sinewy thing without a wasted word or moment. Freeman – who must have fallen on it like a hungry dog – does every bit of it justice. ... The Responder is as fast and riveting as a thriller and as harrowing as a documentary.

It is not a series designed to dig deep into these issues, but it is rare that they are even touched upon as part of a grand sweep such as Planet Sex, and along with Delevingne’s unexpectedly strong presenting skills and directness, it lifted the whole. I love this for us.

It’s a thriller that takes a tremendous, hooky premise, then builds around it with loving detail – instead of considering that its work is largely done and relying on the audience’s basic need for resolution to keep them watching.

On its own terms it’s an absolute triumph. Warm, witty and accessible, with the factual sections and their fictionalised counterparts twining supportively round each other rather than cancelling each other out or annoying alternate halves of the viewership.

It loses something by not setting Wednesday against normality, as the films did, and by having a more fissured version of the Addams clan. The love and unity of the family against the world was always one of the great pleasures, in whatever incarnation you met them. But it has enough wit, charm and propulsive energy for that not to matter as much as it might have.

Blick’s script is as spare and gorgeous as the landscape. If he could have spent some of the time afforded the plot machinations on interrogating more intensively the myths of the Old West, the colonial impulse, the difference between retribution and justice and the other questions his western raises, the ambition that is everywhere in it would have been even more gloriously realised. But it remains a sweepingly wonderful thing.

It’s great fun. Its many, many pieces – which if they gel will make it a great show in all sorts of other ways – are currently held together by Raine’s absolutely storming performance.

As rich, complex and satisfying a comedy-drama as you could hope. Enjoy another five-star stay in this luxury place.

With all three episodes under my belt, I can confirm that the twists and turns continue to ratchet up the suspense before the whole thing is satisfyingly resolved.

Suffice to say that it is a bravura rendition of Gibson’s tale, told with confidence by people I suspect will keep the plotting tight and the internal logic – whatever that may be – consistent. Those who can follow it at the deeper levels will no doubt find it immensely satisfying. The rest of us can enjoy the ride, and the distraction from the decidedly untightly plotted present.

Candy is intelligently scripted and directed. It also has two phenomenal performances. ... Female rage is an under-explored topic – whether or not it culminates in murder. If Candy concentrates on that, rather than the 41 Lizzie Borden-esque blows, it could add something to the sum of human knowledge, if not exactly happiness.