This is a series that unravels quickly, and that’s assuming that it was ever raveled (so to speak) in the first place. It boils down to a neat idea with lukewarm results, like so many podcasts and TV shows.

“The Idol” works well enough in its first half-hour, mainly because of the blunt satiric comedy delivered by Azaria’s Chaim, Jane Adams’ record executive, Nikki, and Da’Vine Joy Randolph’s Destiny, who’s another one of Jocelyn’s managers. .... Despite their comically over-the-top dialogue, it’s only when Tesfaye’s club owner named Tedros shows up that “The Idol” loses its tether to reality.

To say it isn’t as ambitious as what came before would be to as true as a gut feeling can get, but it would also ignore the bold imagination and earnest commitment that fuels one of TV’s most unpredictable experiences.

The answer that “Platonic” gives for most of its season is a playful shrug. It’s shaggy, and sometimes admirable, but if you’re going to take that approach, you better have a stellar, top-to-bottom hangout crew to take it from there.

What may, at times, feel like too much, always stays true to its own kooky vision, and as a showcase for Arquette (who also executive produces), “High Desert” provides an ample spotlight. It won’t be for everyone, but neither is a 75-degree Thanksgiving.

lease. Stop it with the multiple timelines. Of late, TV has a tendency to overindulge the structural device, but “Class of ’09” has enough on its plate already to bother with silly gimmicks. Or it should.

Throughout eight half-hour episodes, Pete Davidson the persona becomes a bit of a distraction. As the show takes on its own life, it doesn’t need to lean on him and could be about some other guy played by Pete Davidson. ... But for those who have delighted in his various personal highs and lows over the past decade, “Bupkis” captures that chaotic enjoyment while sneakily acquainting viewers with Davidson as an artist.

There are hints now and then — the clean language, the high school party where Jin fills up on… hot dogs — but the show doesn’t suffer for broadening its appeal. After eight episodes, the “normal” moments will stay with viewers long after the final battle.

“White House Plumbers” likely won’t go down as the definitive Watergate tale (though a voice in Episode 4 sure seems like a nod toward one classic film), and its tone may be too indefinite to attract average TV fans. (It’s a historical drama steeped in absurd humor, just as it’s a satire absent “Veep’s” laugh-a-minute leanings.) Still, each element is made with such obvious enthusiasm for the time, place, and central story that it’s hard not to admire how the five-hour oddity adds up.

Any of “Fatal Attraction’s” attempts to put Alex’s choices into perspective are limp and fleeting, especially compared to the full tapestry of the Gallagher family. That Caplan holds her own without anything comparable is a testament to what she’s able to add that remains unspoken.

“Citadel” isn’t exactly special. It’s a glossed-up action series with gadgets and twists and spectacle, but its conventional to its core.

With “Love and Death,” it’s clearer than ever that ground is wearing thin, and he [David E. Kelley] either needs to embrace the courtroom drama genre with renewed gusto, or try something totally different. There’s simply nothing worth seeing here.

“The Diplomat” makes a meal out of blending political parlance with office melodrama. It talks a big game — and backs it up.

“Mrs. Davis” earns your attention, and if it occasionally floods the zone with an abundance of imagination, a surfeit sure beats a deficit when it comes to new ideas in today’s TV. Even better, the limited series offers answers and closure.

It’s a show able to look beyond what happens and enjoy how it happens — whether that’s how it’s plotted, how it’s shot, or how it’s performed. “Barry” is hurtling toward an ever-narrowing conclusion, but it’s already so much deeper than a good guy/bad guy story. It’s more than a Hollywood satire, an antihero’s journey, or a morality play crossed with a comedy of errors. It’s “Barry,” and no matter how dark things get, I’ll miss it when it’s gone.

In Season 3, “Dave” is basking in the confidence earned from its exceptional prior entry, but it’s not resting on its laurels.

“Emergency: NYC” presents all of the realities of these jobs in a matter-of-fact way that serves both the show and the respect of the people they’re profiling. ... There’s intent here that takes “Emergency: NYC” beyond merely cutting together surveillance footage. Shatz and Barash find tiny symmetries in different operations or circumstances, showing how success in this field is a moving target.

That’s the goal, at least, for Jesse Armstrong and his talented creative team: to be remembered among the best, to end strong, to find a goodbye as fitting as it is stirring. Based on the first four episodes — as well as the three preceding seasons — there’s no reason to think such a finale is out of reach. And after these initial ending hours, it’s also clear that “Succession” isn’t slowing down.

The plot of the BritBox version is truly insane, apparently much like the book, and it’s only thanks to the solid, empathetic performance of John Simm (“Trauma,” “Dr. Who”) as Grace that things don’t go totally off the rails.

“Beef” remains eminently watchable (so long as your nerves can tolerate such needlessly risky behavior) and its riveting performances make the five-plus hours a worthy investment. The limited series may jump the shark in its back half, but in doing so, it also mimics the contradictory emotions tied to its core conflict.

Season 2 keeps moving forward… but the giddy buzz once driving “Yellowjackets” has been replaced by a snail’s pace. Through six episodes, Season 2 appears to be approaching aptly complex quandaries for its core cast members, but the path to their confrontation is padded in too much snow.

Seven episodes is maybe one more than we needed, and the finale runs out of steam. Episode 6, “Fallin Through the Cracks,” will certainly have its fans, though its loose construction needed further refinement to better justify such blunt (but effective!) choices. Still, with Fishback a riveting constant, well-deployed gallows humor, and more to the story than meets the eye, the buzz around “Swarm” is worth hearing out.

In 2023, the Oscars just had to save face. As the absent Tom Cruise once said — a bit preemptively, sure, but still true: “Mission accomplished.”

If the series wasn’t so brazenly reminiscent of better spy offerings — or if it showed a bit more pizzazz in playing off the old hits — its eight-episode first season could be a worthy investment.

As with any ensemble, some arcs are stronger than others, but Read balances episodes so even if the new focus isn’t perfectly polished, the core cast is there to keep things humming.

“I’m a Virgo” often feels like an elongated movie, intermittently chopped into episodic chunks. (With episodes hovering around the half-hour mark, its runtime should end up just over the three-hour mark.) It’s not subtle, which can be part of its charm, while still feeling redundant at times.

Through only two episodes, it’s hard to tell if “Lucky Hank” could use a bit more of “Saul’s” eagerness to gaze into the darkness, or if it’d be better off dialing up its softer side. The “everything and the kitchen sink” approach taken by co-showrunners Aaron Zelman and Paul Lieberstein leaves enough room to pivot toward what’s working as the season goes on, but also too many questions about an amorphous story that could be described any which way: Is it a dark comedy? A light drama? A mid-life crisis cringe-fest, or an inspirational everyman saga?

Hiccups in Season 3’s rollout don’t damper its spirit. ... And Ted, in all his glorious mess, holds it all together.