Nancy DeWolf Smith

Unnervingly vivid and rich. ... Quibbles aside, it’s hard to imagine a more rewarding five hours of television than this encyclopedically detailed chronicle of an accused Nazi war criminal whose prolonged courtroom battles, which ended only with his death in 2012, said so much about the ineradicable memory of the history he represented.

You don’t need to have seen the two seasons of HBO’s drama “Looking” to enjoy the movie that wraps things up now that the series has ended.

If the series were only about the doe-eyed and inscrutable Naz, it would be interesting enough. But it is bursting with other characters and heart-ripping portraits and morality playlets with a life of their own. The main attraction is the disheveled lawyer Jack Stone (John Turturro, in a mind-blowing performance).

The task of holding things together under this assault and others will fall to the amiable tour manager, Bill (Luke Wilson, awkwardly cast as a Lothario) and the production manager, Shelli (Carla Gugino)--who are supposed to have some chemistry between them but don’t seem to spark. ... Almost crushed beneath the farce are small moments that seem genuine.

As summer indulgences go, Guilt--made by a team that includes the writers, creators and co-executive producers Kathryn Price and Nichole Millard--is like the paperback you avidly consume on the beach.

Watching Messrs. Hopkins and McKellen in the full expression of their powers--in a TV setting but stagelike enough to be a stellar showcase--is a treat as good as the play itself.

The Night Manager is a treat. ... For all its locations, the storytelling canvas is somehow small. And there are some ludicrous plot holes and twists which nudge the The Night Manager in a campy Bond direction. But it never strays near comedy, which makes the six episodes pretty much a nonstop fear-fest.

After the static and bloodless world of “The Girlfriend Experience,” the Showtime comedy Dice is like an explosion of heat and vigor and passion.

The characters are so vapid and thinly drawn that they glide like silhouettes through the minimalist stylings of a series crafted without affect.

Heartbeat does have moments that are satisfying emotionally. Yet the TV trope of the hospital with its motley cast of dedicated caregivers--the contemporary trajectory goes from “St. Elsewhere” to “ER” to “Grey’s Anatomy”--is difficult to riff on in a fresh way. So surgeon Dr. Alexandra Panettiere ( Melissa George) has to jump the shark by being a superwoman.

Inconvenient as that is, and fear takes many forms here, the first three episodes of Hap and Leonard sucked me in almost as easily as Trudy pulls Hap.

They [the black characters] are so well drawn and acted and so dramatically compelling that the others--like the casually cruel plantation massah and the kindly abolitionist lawyer and his wife--can seem like stock characters in a movie of the week.

There is a little less suspense about some of the baddies here, one of whom is easy to guess early on. Yet it is never tiring to watch Marcus run and leap and limp and dodge the police cars and foot-chasers that seem to turn up every place he tries to take refuge in or search for clues.

An often engrossing attempt to explore the way needful alliances between Indians and settlers may have had a transforming, even enlightening, effect on some of the English.

As the series proceeds, the scheming, criminality and even bloodshed that swirl around many of these objects and their acquisition becomes a mounting weight atop Graham and Roxanna in particular. Seeing the bad karma pile on is what makes The Art of More difficult to stop watching.

If German expressionism is your thing—and the sensation of emotional battering feels real here for the characters and viewers alike--the eight-episode series will be searingly satisfying. Everyone else, be warned and encouraged: This is a long walk on the dark side pierced by occasional moments of glittering, breath-stopping beauty.

Nobody (including James Earl Jones as the chief justice) plays openly for laughs here, which would spoil an already precarious illusion. Yet amid the high-voltage action, there is banter and always an open invitation to laugh if you want to.

To judge by the first episode, Wicked City compensates for some pedestrian dialogue and only-on-TV coincidences with bouts of genuinely scary intensity, and doesn’t default to eruptions of gore.

The truthful background of this high-stakes history makes it thrilling on a deeper level. Along with the battle scenes and other entertainments, the series reflects many challenges of today’s world.

After only one episode on preview, it is not clear how well or long this premise can work and still be so engaging. But so far, the new series works well in every way.

If the first hour is any guide, though, there will be enough action and interplay and people to feel safe around, or suspect, to keep it constantly entertaining.... So far, paying attention to all that is exciting.

The upside is that the first few episodes (of nine) may well draw you in, along with some wonderful performances.... If only there were more such gems in this particular crown.

While the graphic gore has no discernible artistic function, the tale is a classically compelling one, revolving around a man who is striving to stay moral (and alive) in a wild and cruel world.

The omniscient-narrator device works very well for a complex story spanning many years and varied sets of players.

Beautiful, painful, almost lovingly languid but never, ever boring.

Writers (and co-executive producers, among others) Mark Cullen and Robb Cullen have an uneven and not 100% original touch here. But sitcom magic is difficult to make, and at least Mr. Robinson has a few tricks in its bag.

The plot--absurd as it is that a handful of people would be alone and in charge of saving the world, or in an encounter between organizations named Section 20 and Office 39--has enough twists and momentum to keep you eager to know what happens next. What’s also cool, and helps further elevate Strike Back in its genre, is the artistic attention to detail.

This film seems to want to scream, but never does, taking instead a mildly passive-aggressive approach to the objects under its microscope while following a trail of inquiry that meanders without ever arriving.