Critic Reviews

The point is, it works. From the get-go, we’re prompted to acclimate ourselves the notion that, like the man or woman upstairs, Preacher works in mysterious and unpredictable ways.

Pulling it all together is the cast. Cooper is fierce and weathered, Negga is spunky smart and Gilgun is just a joy to watch and hear, with that thick Irish accent of his.

What you need to know going in is that the show is funny, sexy, offbeat-as-hell and, with Sam Catlin (Breaking Bad) as showrunner, divinely dark.

The episodes move so smoothly while creating so many unexpected events, it's hard to deny this show has that indefinable quality needed to boost a new series above its many, many competitors.

Alas, Banshee's geometrically progressing body count is bringing it to an end this weekend. The good news is I may have found a replacement. AMC's Preacher, a preposterous goulash of drunken vampires, exploding clergymen, and small town psychosexual kink, seems to share the same cheerily bedlamite DNA that made Banshee such a hallucinatory good time.

It brings something fresh, bold and thrilling to prime time.

Jesse’s arrogance is tempered by a desire to do good, and there’s no better place for charity to begin than at home. But his misguided efforts ultimately set the stage for the first of many showdowns, a fact that, if he acknowledged it, might actually make him sympathize with his maker. All of these choices, when combined with the sumptuous visuals, make for a successful adaptation, though they will probably be criticized by longtime fans for making the material more palatable or too accessible.

A hodgepodge of different genres, this series is flat-out fun.

The story drags a bit, but at the early episodes' dizzying best, they feel like Wes Anderson was mistakenly given a Quentin Tarantino script and decided to film it anyway, standards of taste be damned.

It’s a mind-bendingly expansive show, packed into a tiny, 60-minute slot.