Alexis Gunderson

The Star Wars Resistance premiere is a fun watch, and as good a reason as any to tune into Disney late on a Sunday night. Where it goes from there, we’ll just have to wait and see.

It is extremely good. Stars Lesley Manville, Conleth Hill, and Tim McMullan are compelling in their respective roles as crime editor-turned-chance sleuth Susan Ryeland, her nightmare star author-turned-murder victim Alan Conway, and the coolly meticulous post-war detective Atticus Pünd at the heart of Conway’s award-winning whodunnit series.

While Dillahunt’s Jack is the beating heart of the series, there isn’t a weak link in the entire ensemble.

It’s a very weird show, something AMC+ has started to become a home for, and yet it is so singular in its voice that the goofiness is like an unexpectedly warm blanket. I was baffled by every episode; I enjoyed every episode; I wanted a hundred more.

Sure, there’s always a hard edge underlying these frothier elements—this is ex-L.A. Times crime reporter Michael Connelly’s Los Angeles, after all—but aesthetically, it’s those frothier bits in The Lincoln Lawyer that rise to the top. Given how dark the four central cases of the series’ first season are, this frothy aesthetic proves a nice counterbalance.

The benefit of The Wilds treading so much of the same glittering narrative water this season as it did in the first is familiarity, one that gives viewers a rock-steady structure to hold onto as they work to make sense of what are (now that Leah’s in on at least some of Gretchen’s sociopathic secrets in the post-island timeline) even twistier games of cat-and-mouse. ... I’m telling you now: it’s magic.

An economy of dialogue and a protraction of plot serve Outer Range well, as the mystery of the big spooky hole in the Abbotts’ west pasture isn’t the point of the series so much as its psychological fulcrum.

While Winning Time hasn’t invented the sports docudrama, I can’t see a future in which it doesn’t set a visual standard by which all sports docudramas (at least in the near term) will be compared.

Barnes-Cowan and Collins are just so arrestingly good, both together and apart, that they’re a treat to watch even when the story is dragging.

And yet, with the inevitable arrival of both the Civil War and Sue and Austin’s first baby, this third and final season of Dickinson nevertheless finds new ground to tread. Now, whether that ground is always emotionally consistent—well, that’s another question, entirely. ... That said, Emily herself continues this season to prove a constant wash of genius and heart.