Kayleigh Dray

Despite the mammoth 10-year gap between seasons, they flow seamlessly into one another, which is no small feat considering the likes of the Duke of Norfolk had to be recast. The only real issue with this season, perhaps, is that it has to condense nearly 800 pages of Mantel’s fiction into just six episodes.

Weak spots aside, though, Love You To Death is a compelling twist on the classic boy-meets-girl formula, not to mention the sort of rom-com that truly gets to grips with the demands of its genre. It’s consistently funny. It’s occasionally swoony. And it’s poignant and aching too.

This isn’t highbrow television, obviously, but that isn’t what we want from Ghosts. Instead, we need it to be as cozy and comforting as a mug of hot chocolate—ideally served with sugary sweet marshmallows and cream bobbing enticingly on top—and that’s exactly what this new batch delivers so far.

It’s a pretty stellar season premiere, quite frankly, with more than enough rich narrative, scheming families, dragons, and sumptuous costumes to quench the thirst of any Game Of Thrones fan. .... Oh sure, there’s times when this episode feels like a crib sheet, hellbent on reminding us exactly who everyone is and what their motives are, but it’s been a hot minute since the HOTD season-one finale, quite frankly, and we could all use the help.

Come for the fun and frolics, then, and stay for the mystery–because we predict this season is building up to something big. And we’re pumped to find out what.

Perhaps one of the best things about Shardlake is also its worst: The series is a microscopically mini one at just four episodes long. On the one hand, this makes for tight storytelling, very little bloat, and an insatiable desire to binge binge binge like mad until you get to the very end. On the other hand, however, it all feels as if it’s over far too quickly.

Essentially, it’s Grey’s Anatomy as we’ve always known it: There’s complicated medical jargon being hurled around like nobody’s business, a series of highly improbable disasters taking place all around the hospital, and more than enough sexual tension and romance for viewers to get behind, too. [Here’s looking at you, Jo Wilson (Camilla Luddington) and Atticus Lincoln (Chris Carmack).] And, while we’ve yet to fall entirely in love with our new roster of interns (not that they subscribe to mononormative terms such as love, that is), we’re sure we will in time—especially when their collective fates are revealed in the last moments of the episode.

The Tourist season two is dazzlingly entertaining and impossible to switch off once you get started, despite the tension headaches it may spark among its more logically minded viewers.

Many will praise the series for offering up an ambitious spectacle, but we honestly believe that its success lies in its refusal to shy away from the humanity of war. Which is all to say: Watch this show.

Sure, it has a bit of a Disney sheen to it (make of that what you will). Sure, it’s aimed at a younger audience than those who originally grew up obsessing over the books. But the result is something that feels like it has some staying power—and like it will, just as the books did all those years ago, grow up alongside its audience.