The Leftovers

Some of the best acting, directing and ephemeral atmosphere on television. There's so much to say about every episode of The Leftovers, much less to say about the first six episodes of a new season collectively, but the easiest thing to say is that it's not too late to tune in and be awed and confused.

Between the prospect of a definitive ending, the looming fear of catastrophe, and the continually exceptional performances, it’s bravura television that somehow follows the model of earlier seasons while subverting expectations. You might think you know where something is going, only to be completely disoriented a minute later.

Breathtaking. ... Great visuals, complex themes, incredible performances—maybe there are ways to write about The Leftovers. And yet there’s still something about this program that can’t be put into words. There’s something almost religious about in the way you just need to see it, feel it, and believe.

The show has entered full-blown mania as twisted, thrilling, and devastating to watch as a person speaking in tongues.

When I say The Leftovers is awesome, this is what I mean: It fills me with awe.

What it accomplishes in its third season is a triumph of concept, entertainment, provocation, cinema, acting, and often even fun that trumps any and all genre- and content-related turn-offs.

A show operating at the peak of its powers. ... It feel[s] very much like a series that has found its moment in history.

You’d be hard-pressed to name a work of art, let alone another TV show, that balances such enormity so playfully, without also being glib about the ponderous questions at its core.

On top of the phenomenal performances, stellar narrative structure, and compelling/emotionally devastating writing, the show’s thematic relevance all but secures it a lauded place in TV history. Buckle up and grab the tissues, folks--this is one hell of a sendoff.

The new season of The Leftovers is spectacular, in every sense of that word.

Superb final season of The Leftovers. ... Suffice to say that Lindelof, Perrotta & Co. have continued to think about ways to make the fantastic seem mundane and vice versa.

The new episodes don’t represent another radical leap forward in style or quality the way season two was, but whatever’s lost from the shock of the new (nothing here is quite as weird or surprising as the cavewoman prologue or “International Assassin,” though a joke in the second episode and a party sequence in the fifth come close) is gained in how much more we know all the characters at this point, and how aware they are of their proximity to their story’s end.

Season 3 is no less than a coup, wrapping up a wild narrative with ambitious new threads and honing in on each character’s fundamental spiritual and psychological beliefs.

For fans of The Leftovers, the third season looks like the best yet. It’s funny, horrifying, strange and baffling.

The Leftovers grasps an outlandish idea with absolute emotional commitment: The performances in this final run are spectacular throughout, but especially Ms. Coon’s and Mr. Theroux’s. The final season sometimes repeats the first two, from the use of dream imagery to specific story beats like a business trip Nora takes (recalling “Guest,” a Season 1 standout episode). Because it depends so much on callbacks, it’s designed more to cater to the show’s faithful than to expand its flock.