Roger Moore

By generously sampling Cosby’s greatest hits, by praising Cosby’s philanthropy, Bell masterfully builds us up in between damning indictments. He reminds us of the “monument to Black excellence” that was “The Cosby Show,” its cast and even its set, and of Cosby’s place at the center of American culture. Remembering how high the man rose, how trusted he and his “brand” became makes his fall more disheartening, the reluctance to believe his accusers and the whispers easier to understand.

The House may be the most delightfully strange project Netflix has ever put its money behind.

It may get better as it goes along, but “Book of Boba” is starting out so stale and puerile it’s hard to see daylight and/or originality peeking through even eventually. If you’re not tired of seeing these “Star Wars” beans fried, refried, refrigerated and refried again, this must seem like a Golden Age to you. The rest of us know the only “golden” thing here is what’s spilling off the screen.

A Beatles buff won’t need any salesmanship to know Disney+ is the place to be this weekend. And even a more casual fan might want to drop in on “Get Back,” just to get a peek at what all the fuss was about and why they still seem relevant over fifty years later. Because “where they once belonged” is where they’ve always been.

Qualley and Metzler give us a heroine too smart to ever mistakenly believe that the abuse is her fault, that her circumstances cannot be overcome and that if the supportive strangers surrounding her could do it, that there’s any reason she won’t be able to either.

It’s all more a series of chuckles and surprises than farcical big laughs, with only as much melodramatic menace as Woody Allen’s similar “Manhattan Murder Mystery.” But this trio clicks, and everything “Only Murders in the Building” lightly mocks — New York living, New Yorkers, modern “relationships,” podcasters, podcast fanatics, snooty celebrities, snootier wannabes — is funny because we’ve been laughing at this or that for decades.

But Byrne makes it worth a watch, and once you’re in, it isn’t just nostalgia that keeps you coming back for more.

“Flack” isn’t necessarily great TV. More of a guilty pleasure. But it is, undeniably, great fun.

There’s little pretense to social satire here, so “Loki” is easier to get into the spirit of this than “WandaVision,” although I’m of the minority opinion that none of these Marvel small-screen spinoffs pack enough wit, action, pathos or what have you into them to justify “series length” treatment. But Loki and Hiddleston — in all their many colors — are fun enough to bring one back to the stream to catch each new episode to see what that “scamp” is up to now.

I found the series to be somewhat unmoored, lacking the subtexts of the original source material. Here it’s all about the violence, “MacGyver” ish escapes. It’s also jumpy and disjointed.

Bloated or streamlined, unbalanced or “She said, he said,” and even with a “Let culture off the hook” equivocated ending, “Allen v. Farrow” still manages to do what Connecticut and New York justice didn’t. The provable lies we hear Allen tell, the evidence that we either never heard or don’t remember reading about, leave no doubt.

The best endorsement for “Framing Britney Spears” might be the fact that it opens the floor for questioning, forcing the public to reconsider her and the courts to look at her situation through the eyes of other known abuses of involuntary hospitalizations and conservatorships the way her fans and the general public have. It’s not just Lifetime Original Movie villains who manipulate that system.

It’s still an eye-opener for any casual art buff, realizing that a lot has happened in that scene since Basquiat, and an awful lot happened before David C. Driskell had the gumption and the thick skin to dare to suggest there was a Black art aesthetic, and that there were more than 200 years of African American art that was too good and too important to ignore.

If you’re deep into this universe and have been keeping up on all the creator and staff commentary “explaining” what they’re aiming for, you’ll get more out of “WandaVision” than any casual viewer. The end product on the screen is comedically wan, the double-takes broad and all the Olsen/Bettany/Hahn charm squeezed into those tiny dabs of screen time doesn’t add up to enough to make the whole worth the investment in time, even if you change shows as the endless closing credits start.

The show is new to Amazon, but the British audience for this blend of gossip, sex, drugs and “issues” ate “Flack” up.

Waiting for “The Mandalorian” to get better is like waiting for nostalgia to finally get old.

Here’s to hoping our and Sarah Cooper’s “tomorrow” is better than today, and that Cooper lands a third act to a career that has flourished, online, this year, after being off the radar for too long before we found her.

First scene to last, she makes this a character with her nose to the ground as she sniffs out weakness and vulnerabilities, in all the men she faces off with, and in herself.

The performances, the production’s gritty authenticity and the high stakes struggle mixed with droll observations about the committed but flawed people engaged in it makes “The Good Lord Bird” the TV event of the fall, and one of the best limited series of the year.

It’s wearing and exhausting to go over all this again. But that’s nothing, the film suggests, to how alarming we should be that millions of our fellow citizens don’t look at Russia today with revulsion and fear — that they and we and Trump are remaking our democracy in Russia’s corrupt, autocratic image.

It’s a lovely travelogue – 13 countries worth. Hyper-miling to do it with electric bikes adds bits of suspense and touches of drama.

Sudeikis, playing against type, may be the big surprise here. He is, if not charming, at least disarmingly grating in this In-over-his-Head turn.

Suspense shows up in the “secrets” that are inevitable in stories this soap operatic. Because that’s what this is, mysteries, conflicts and relationships teased out over eight hours — no cliffhangers — building back towards that opening blaze. And “on the nose” or not, even if the parts don’t much in the way of “She’s really stretching here,” there’s something to be said in very good actresses taking a pitch, right in their wheelhouse, and belting it.

The chat, peppered with statistical graphics and illustrative video of slums, climate catastrophes, abortion, “round trip migrants,” drug violence and the like, is generally enlightened, if limited in scope. And then there’s a chef — Enrique Olvera, Alexander Suástegui — serving up another course and describing the molé or what have you as she or he does. It’s jarring and grating at the same time.

Epix has a series (Sunday nights through August) that makes a fine companion piece to Tarantino’s tale of the end of one era and “the coming darkness” of another, “Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood.” It’s a good primer on the time, the crime and the criminals that Quentin Tarantino liked to imagine “Old Hollywood” could vanquish, like the villains in the third act of a TV Western.

Disney and Henson Co. might be on the right track with the Muppets. But judging from the early episodes, they may have to beef up the writing and deliver some blunt “notes” to the performers. For “Now,” they’re just not getting it done.

A slick, engaging, well put-together documentary series that neatly skims the surface of Federal efforts to bring down the Five Families who made up The Commission — the organizers who made “organized crime” a phrase all of America was all too familiar with.

The plot, conventional as it is, may bring us to “Japan Sinks” and keep us watching, all the way through its ten episode story. The animation, however, is nothing to write home about. It’s flat, faces and characters and locales with little definition or depth. The color palette is washed out and the action TV “on the cheap” jerky, far more pronounced than you see in high quality, more elaborately animated anime.