Season three of True Detective plays to the first season’s strengths, but it also feels like an admission of defeat.
Whatever assemblage of parts make up an individual viewer's experience of Bandersnatch, it represents the best and worst of Black Mirror.
Almost all of these shows—even the most joyfully escapist among them—seemed preoccupied in 2018 with the forces which make us who we are.
The Kominsky Method‘s broad, formulaic humor undercuts any poignancy in the show’s portrayal of men in their twilight.
Homecoming‘s visual ambition is complemented by its intellectual curiosity.
Wanderlust arrives at the underwhelming conclusion that the grass only seems greener on the other side.
Camping focuses primarily on why things happen rather than merely striving toward hijinks.
The Romanoffs, an anthology series co-written and directed by Matthew Weiner, is ambitious but disappointingly inconsistent.
While impressive for its detailed and certainly imaginative world building, Maniac rarely dares to truly confound its audience.
The Haunting of Hill House is a kind of riff on madness in its many forms, a sojourn of loss and regret.
Kidding is a capital-E earnest drama that just so happens to star comedians.
In season nine, The Walking Dead concerns itself with the nitty-gritty of ensuring an egalitarian system of government.
It’s a tangle of plot threads, almost all of which are either underdeveloped or overly intricate.
As the season approaches its conclusion, it becomes harder to ascertain what exactly American Vandal finds funny.
Change looms over The Deuce, as the series focuses on the far-reaching effects of urban transformation.
More than any other prestige TV offering, BoJack Horseman is simultaneously edifying and infantile.
Despite humanizing its characters, Jack Ryan is mostly interested in a broad battle between good and evil.
Ghoul is ironically impersonal and perfunctory, suggesting the work of a polished propaganda machine.
In season two, Ozark dramatically quickens its pace, as if it’s brought a gun to a chess match.
Disenchantment feels instantly familiar, unmistakably a product of Matt Groening’s well-honed house style.