As much as it loves a good zinger, the show’s greatest weapon is its essential kindness.
After a promising start, the series struggles to capture the propulsive energy of its beloved source material.
The series is like a Magic Eye picture in reverse: The more you focus your attention on it, the less there is to see.
The series has clearly been tailor-made for Stallone, playing to his particular brand of mealy-mouthed charisma.
The series puts a spiritual spin on the police procedural but struggles to uncover anything profound.
If you fed the jokes from early-2000s sitcoms into an AI generator, it would probably spit out Blockbuster.
The series suffers from a problem that is symptomatic of the streaming era: It should have been a movie.
AMC’s adaptation of Anne Rice’s novel embraces the opulence of the source material while adding a few modern flourishes of its own.
Andor has all the scruffy charm and boundless raw potential of its eponymous main character.
The series handles teched-up sci-fi concepts with the urgency of a conspiracy thriller and grounds them in a relatable family drama.
The series, based on Tyson’s one-man Broadway show, pulls a few punches but lands the big swings.
As the series unfolds, it homes in on the theme of empathy and skillfully connects its two seemingly disparate narrative threads.
Most of the show’s best moments come when it leans into its hellish premise and plumbs the depths of its own depravity.
The show’s struggle to find pathos in its characters’ predicament often comes at the cost of its comedy.