Amanda Whiting

Are there too many storylines? Probably. But if you’re still watching Ted Lasso in season three, you likely have too much affection for its lovable band of misfits to want anyone cut from the squad.

Butterworth’s script loses tautness, unfortunately, when focus shifts to Lue, Jamie’s gloomy sister. Sally Hawkins is among the most enchanting actors working today, but even she can’t imbue a loopy storyline that sees Lue imagining herself as Coco Chanel’s assistant – a coping mechanism for her ill-defined ennui – with emotional resonance. More successful are Mammals’ more straightforwardly surreal moments.

The sinister image collage is evocative, but ultimately a show like The Devil’s Hour is only as good as its pay-off. I, for one, am convinced enough by the early episodes to stick around and find out exactly how creepy a kid we’re dealing with this Halloween.

The series’ pleasures are unchanged by the years: impeccably choreographed fight scenes, quick-twitch pacing, and clever, immersive direction that takes suspense as its watchword.

If you really like true-crime dramas, you’ll probably like this one. But if you like true stories – ones that create layered versions of real people and use them to illustrate something universal about the human experience – Candy won’t hit the sweet spot.

The sharp, chummy world Horgan creates here would make a terrific binge session. Honestly, if it meant I could spend more time in their warmly murderous clutches, I’d watch the Garvey girls go after the Road Runner next.

Industry is the same show it was the first time around, with the same pleasures and pitfalls. The dialogue is so laden with financial jargon it occasionally becomes unparsable. ... If you found something to like in its bleak worldview and blistering pace in season one, you’ll be glad to follow Harper back into the office.

He may be the producer’s most relatable protagonist to-date, but, to the disappointment of this Star fan, his dream is no laughing matter.

Keene’s book has been deftly adapted for television by first-time showrunner Dennis Lehane.

The series resists the urge to humanise Travis’s selfishness, but it also fails to extrapolate what super pumped guys like Travis mean for Silicon Valley and the rest of us. The result is low-calorie entertainment of the highest order, as flashy and empty as Travis’s self-serving rallying cry.