If you’re a fan of Arnold Schwarzenegger; you’re going to love FUBAR. If you’re not, then it won’t do a damn thing to change your mind.

Volume 2 transcends that ambition to all Star Wars supporters, and more profoundly, those who have followed content that now lies outside of continuity. Each story stands apart from another while all carry a collective thematic element that binds the series to the official canon of the continuity.

'Sweet Tooth' delivers everything expected of it in a bigger, bolder, and more ambitious season 2, but it's lacking the spark that made its debut run such a runaway success.

If you’re expecting anything more than fast-faced, energetic, exciting breakneck espionage action on a grandiose scale, you may be left somewhere between disappointed and underwhelmed. For everyone else; Citadel is borderline camp, precariously cheesy, and a whole lot of fun.

The majority of the credit deserves to go to Lister-Jones, who avoids leaning into the overly-comedic or broader aspects of the performance that arguably would have been easier to play, but her fiercely committed turn still holds the whole thing together with style and substance in equal measure, ensuring that nobody will accuse the series of being a one-trick pony that’s got a cute gimmick with nothing much going on under the surface.

Midge has always been front and center, but a massive part of the show’s enduring popularity has always been the strength of the ensemble cast across the board, and that remains true in the fifth and final season despite the need to bring everything to a close by the time the credits roll on the finale.

Where Pretty Baby really shines is in the theoretical framing brought on by authors, journalists, lecturers, and sociologists. Names like Meenakshi Durham, Scaachi Koul, and Jean Kilbourne – author of The Lolita Effect, Senior Culture Writer at Buzzfeed, and media literacy lecturer, respectively – turn the whirlwind life of a child star into a case study for women’s position within the western patriarchal society, further twisted by the visual power of the last century’s consumerist turn.

The Power falls short of expectations dramatically. Not for any lack of commitment by the cast, and neither for any shortage of real-world locations, which help to ground the events which unfold. Failure on this occasion feels more fundamental and comes down to originality. Combined with some sluggish pacing and frequently fragmented narrative choices, audiences will be hard pressed to make it beyond the third episode, which is ironic since that is when things start to get interesting.

Swarm is an incredibly bizarre series that’s definitely going to split opinion, and it’s easy to imagine a lot of people failing to make it to the end. That being said, if you can get on the same wavelength of such a strikingly unique, relentlessly eccentric, oftentimes emotionally manipulative, and relentlessly singular approach, then cult favorite status surely beckons.

There is so much more this show tries to grasp in its minimal running time, and as a whole The Big Door Prize delivers some admirable drama. ... But irrespective of those whys and wherefores – The Big Door Prize ultimately falls short of greatness.

This is hardcore espionage with a mainstream sheen, headlined by a rock solid star of the genre. After 10 minutes, it will become the best thing on the streaming service alongside Jon Bernthal in American Gigolo, or anything at all with Patrick Stewart. Audiences will begin to mourn the passing of each episode, as it becomes apparent that their time with John Weir is dwindling.

With Bob Odenkirk on curmudgeonly form and academic hijinks in the offing, Lucky Hank proves to be precisely-paced pleasure from start to finish. Miss it at your peril.

Sometimes there’s absolutely nothing wrong in playing the classics, and what the TV series lacks in ambition or originality, it more than makes up for in sheer dramatic heft, showstopping original songs, and an ensemble cast that’s virtually note-perfect across the board.

Although it seeks to be contemporary in its examination of workplace culture, The Consultant occasionally gets bogged down by incoherence. Heavy-handed symbolism and dramatic distractions muddy the waters on more than one occasion, marring an otherwise intelligent show.

Across the board there are some genuinely excellent performances from a top-tier cast, hitting their marks and keeping things engaging. However, all the polished production values money can buy are no match for carefully crafted tension.

There is a whole bundle of talent with not much to do and no direction. As with everything Apple – the show may lack substance, but its production values are impressive.

Storytelling shortcomings once again cut Carnival Row off at the knees, yielding an ultimately frustrating experience when a massive volume of ingenuity, inventiveness, and ambition is undone by the simplest aspects of spinning a yarn.

At no point does the final season feel like a show running on empty, as characters are grounded, situations grow organically, and antes are upped as momentum is maintained.

Despite the extremely self-aware shift to this genre (no thanks to Badgley’s staple voiceovers), the essence of what enraptured audiences. It’s just as macabre, sexy, and absurd as ever.

With no sense of exaggeration intended, this show consistently hits it out of park, offering up characters who admit their flaws, embrace their foibles, and ultimately improve as a result. This might all sound a little bit safe for some, but have faith, because very soon Shrinking will be picking up Emmy awards – remember where you heard it first.

A show which once again confirms the storytelling prowess of creator Johnson, who yet again delivers something unique in this Peacock original, which showcases Lyonne and finally gives her a character which hits all the right notes.

Spencer creates a truly formidable foundation around which everything revolves. Not only ensuring that this series rarely drifts into cliché, but also stays true in its dramatic exploration of sex trafficking full stop.

That ‘90s Show is a comfortable watch that fans of the original should enjoy insomuch as taking an easy, if not a mostly forgettable trip down nostalgia lane.

By leaning just enough on the source material but not so much as to lose sight of the mission, which is to deliver a gut-wrenchingly emotional and poignant story, The Last of Us is not just the perfect adaptation; it’s an adaptation that has the potential to transcend even the original game.

Stonehouse really delivers a drama of depth, centered around someone with genuine failings, who eventually pays the price. It may lean towards tragi-comedy to a degree, but in the end, there is a sense of redemption which audiences will appreciate.

The two-season globetrotting curio ends its short-lived existence by never truly managing to maximize the boundless potential of its own premise.

What remains true of this final season is how solid that central cast have become. Although the plotlines might have become more convoluted, their ability to sell any amount of narrative abstraction continues to astonish.

In many ways, Roku’s Swimming with Sharks satirizes the entertainment industry as effectively as the original, but times have changed. Although this series adheres to the premise, remains faithfully constructed, and comes with a solid ensemble cast, George Huang’s film was held together by Kevin Spacey. By taking these characters beyond the confines of Fountain Pictures early on, Kathleen Robertson humanizes them too much.