Love on the Spectrum is a trailblazing docuseries that dismantles myths about autism and romance.
To its credit, this “true crime” documentary treats the tragedy of each victim with empathy and respect.
During a period when we are facing a ferocious pandemic, the biggest Civil Rights movement since the ’60s, and the possibility of flying snakes, it is the perfect time to remake the cheery The Baby-Sitters Club.
As a potentially thoughtful drama (hey, this is PBS) set during a revolutionary and colonialist era, Beecham House falls as flat as papadum.
Maybe Space Force will figure out what kind of comedy it is and launch into a rejuvenated second season turn. Though that assumes it will get a second season.
Much of the fun of Ramy comes from its deadpan embrace of heightened absurdity.
In The Great, Tony McNamara proves that period pieces that pit conniving yet sympathetic women against tyrannical men can make for a kind of refreshingly cathartic entertainment.
Maybe being quarantined for so long has taken its toll, but Hollywood satisfies well enough as a vibrant escape to glamorous parties filled with scheming executives and hot-to-trot actors on the make.
Never Have I Ever suffers from an identity crisis: the show doesn’t want to face that it is just another Netflix teen comedy, albeit with its share of engaging moments.
Mrs. America is well written and beautifully acted (generally), but its real power stems less from its entertainment value than in how it reveals how little has changed for women since the ’70s.