Christina Izzo

It all feels so algorithm-driven that much of Off Campus plays like those “spicy” vertical dramas currently interrupting Instagram Reels and TikTok binges with soul-crushing short-form romance. That’s a byproduct of the show’s lifeless direction—even the on-the-ice action is surprisingly lethargic—and astonishingly bad acting.

There’s a lot of world-building across the season’s slow-moving ten episodes, which feels like a waste given how familiar even casual TV watchers are with the original series.

We’re not just getting the usual back-stabbing trio of Traitors this time around but also a fourth “Secret Traitor,” a red-cloaked phantom whose identity is shielded not only from us viewers but also, notably, the other Traitors. .... It’s a welcome shake-up for the show, adding an extra layer of gameplay and duplicity to the campy production.

The increasingly outlandish actions of our leads do keep things light, lean, and moving swiftly along, a plus when the mystery has largely been removed from the narrative. And while most thrill seekers might disapprove of the lack of startling twists and turns throughout the show’s six installments, The Girlfriend finds ripe drama in the interpersonal, offering up fruitful things to say about perspective, prejudice, and possessiveness.

It’s not just the supporting stars who are dulled in the new episodes, which are equally split by directors Tim Burton (who also serves as executive producer) and Paco Cabezas (The Appeared, Mr. Right). Ortega is an interesting performer whose goth-girl charms are reminiscent of Winona Ryder and Christina Ricci in the late ’80s and early ’90s, but season two’s Wednesday Addams isn’t just deadpan: She’s damn near soulless, all clipped deliveries and unblinking stares.

To the show’s credit, Ginny & Georgia has increasingly given more care and consideration to its various youngsters. .... Far less convincing, though, is the Georgia portion of the proceedings (no matter how many flashbacks or moody voiceovers are inserted in an effort to explain the mom’s genuinely perplexing and damn near pathological antics).

Wringing out any juiciness left over from that swinging scandal, season two of The Secret Lives Of Mormon Wives feels very much like a rehash. And with a cast that’s a bit too chronically online and self-possessed to really let the devil out, it’s hard to see these women leading viewers to reality-TV salvation anytime soon.

The dialogue is, as always, quicker than a chaîné turn; the takes are long and lush (with all eight episodes directed by the Emmy-winning duo, whose love of the master shot emphatically endures); and the settings and costuming are unsurprisingly sumptuous, especially in Paris. .... However, some of the more dance-focused cast members fail to pop against their fellow actors.

This time around, the expansions of this world come off like a ticked-off checklist, an assuage-the-readers inventory of settings, cultures, and villains, with our hero’s journey feeling certainly designed but not entirely earned. Rand’s story can either save this world or break it—and right now, The Wheel Of Time has a few spokes loose.

To be honest, the season-one finale isn’t much of a knockout, ending things on a low point for our challengers. But a “To Be Continued” title card and an action-packed teaser affirms that there is indeed plenty of fight left in this promising, bloody-knuckled bunch.