Robert Lloyd

The show stays fascinating less for the plot than for the performers. Rossum attacks her role as if playing a Greek tragedy. (The hair redoubles the impression.) McNairy, one of TV’s most likable actors, brings warmth. Petticrew evokes broken innocence. Bernstine finds new notes in a role that typically runs to cliche.

“This is all a little goofy,” I thought more than once watching “Out of Time.” Which isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy it greatly.

“The Hawk” is sentimental and juvenile — that isn’t a criticism — its pee and poo and erection jokes delivered with great vigor. There are, of course, the sort of improvised passages that have left their mark on a quarter-century of film comedy, so that now and again a scene spins into irrelevance, as if life were just a series of skits — and maybe it is — but this does tend to be funny and what we come for, after all.

It can be quite violent, but it’s not off-putting — not for more than a couple minutes at a time, anyway — and even at seven episodes, the flow is so well arranged as to remain engaging.

It can be preposterous and complicated to a fault. The barely developed but welcome romantic subplots, of which there are three, are lighter than air; indeed you will recognize them before the characters do. Yet it’s a straightforward narrative on the whole — all text, no subtext. You know who to root for.

A 2005 miniseries, shown as part of “The Wonderful World of Disney,” was generally faithful to the letter and spirit of the text. The record shows that I liked it. The new “Little House,” created by Rebecca Sonnenshine and streaming on Netflix, is fairly faithful to its spirit, and less so to its letter.

The younger cast is likable across the board. Written by Laura Kittrell, “Elle” is lightweight, often obvious and oddly, refreshingly innocent.

A thoroughly original and quite wonderful take on the material; it’s one of my favorite new shows this year, possibly the one that made me happiest.

While there’s nothing particularly novel about that plot, it pulls you along, and the series as a whole is orchestrated to make one care about the characters and worry over their fates. Vivid minor characters — there are pro turns from Shea Whigham, Laura San Giacomo and Mireille Enos — make the story live. All in all, a good meal that leaves no bitter aftertaste.

You can look for metaphors and social comment here — there are references to conspiracy theories and industrial noise pollution and such — but it seems to me to operate most effectively as a beautifully rendered mood piece and character study, and, certainly in the case of Hall, whose story this is, a platform for some exquisitely subtle acting.