Brian P. Kelly

An illuminating bird’s-eye view of the past half-century of Black art in America. ... The film never dips into saccharine platitudes, and it is unafraid to examine the defects within artistic movements that, while fighting for racial justice, had their own blindspots.

Woody Allen projects are all walking and talking, so they rise or fall based on the strength of their ideas. This one has none.

The show is so infectiously fun—in its up-tempo numbers, production design (all high-waisted, polyester pants and vinyl-topped cars) and the historical characters who pop up (from DJ Kool Herc to Ed Koch)--that it rises above its shortcomings. Add to this the shining performances of Ms. Guardiola, Mr. Moore and Mr. Smith and it’s hard not to be charmed.

Matt Duffer and Ross Duffer, brothers and the show’s creators, have done their homework when it comes to ’80s cinema. Whether you’re a fan of John Carpenter’s “The Thing” or “The Goonies” is more your speed, there’s plenty to like in Stranger Things.

A lack of originality isn’t its only weakness. Overacting--and at least one abysmal attempt at a Boston accent--results in a soapy atmosphere. This isn’t necessarily a problem, but it becomes one as the series fails to grasp its tone.

While the show shoots for Sorkinesque commentary and the hilarity of “Veep,” it doesn’t come anywhere close to either. Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Danny Pino, Aaron Tveit, Tony Shalhoub and other familiar small-screen faces don’t have much to work with, given writing that’s as weak as the excuses offered during high-profile sexting scandals.

This is a more intimate series, with extended looks at the personal relationships of the characters (the connection between Kizzy and her master’s niece, who grew up together, is just one example). It’s also a gorier series—yes, showing all the abuse put to slaves, but also showing many of the perpetrators of that violence getting their comeuppance. Added to flashbacks and spiritually charged dreams, this lends the show an occasional shade of magical realism.

While Trollope’s writing is filled with morally complicated creatures, the miniseries’ characters too often are monolithic types, mostly devoid of nuance.

One wishes that PBS had let the program’s grand ideas stand on their own, with Prof. Hawking as an optimistic guide; those looking to be wowed by the mysteries of the universe should search elsewhere.

Marc still has all the bite he did in the past, still doesn’t suffer fools gladly, and still neurotically struggles with pride, masculinity and maturity; all this tinged with a new sadness that comes after a fall from success. For those who don’t know the show but appreciate comedy that doesn’t shy away from reality’s occasional harshness, add Maron to your watchlist.