FilmFan133

The Good Fight has all the makings of a compelling and smartly comedic legal drama, as good as or better than its predecessor, The Good Wife (or more specifically, its first five seasons). I have very high hopes for newcomer Rose Leslie, and look forward to seeing how this show will continue to explore the themes of innocence, ambition, honesty, and justice, as well as how the Kings will restructure their well-known world in Alicia's wake.

This show is fully aware of how silly, predictable, and outrageous it can be. And yet, Trial & Error spins all of these qualities into positives, with an ineffable charm and humor that builds throughout each episode. In the style of its many mockumentary and 30-minute sitcom predecessors, this show makes you grow to love (or at least expect) each character's quirks and flaws, along with its beyond-stereotypical, small Southern town. I can't say it reminds me of Parks and Rec, since this law-comedy's sense of humor is both goofier and darker, but I will say that though each installment of Trial & Error will leave you shaking your head, it will also leave you with an uncontrollable smile.

If you're looking for a show that makes you want to watch attentively and that doesn't shy away from complexity or enigmas, this is the one. As someone who frequently complains that "nothing happens" in many TV dramas, I assure you that Westworld never feels slow; there is never a moment that isn't setting up future plot points, delivering crucial character/world development, or pontificating on philosophical questions. Westworld avoids Game of Thrones' character overload while still delivering a multitude of separate but interlocking subplots, all with meaningful narratives (even if you don't realize it at the time).
I'm also someone who thinks she's seen all types of reveals and reversals, but Westworld again takes the serial drama genre to new levels. I can't even imagine the complexity of planning out the timing of the various clues, twists, and revelations, intertwined with elaborate character arcs and real-world questions about humanity and identity. Westworld's high caliber of acting, writing, and editing astounds me. Without giving anything away, I will only say that Westworld tells a superb, original story that reaches far beyond the park in which it is set.

Of all the sci-fi shows whose worlds I've wanted to join, Sense8 has to be near the top of my list. I am amazed by the level of investment I have in these characters after only two seasons; what began as deliberately slow plot development has blossomed into a comprehendible-yet-inventive interconnectedness of otherwise-disparate storylines. Sense8's greatest strength is its abundance of portrayals of positive, supportive relationships between both the main cluster and the supporting cast. With each episode, this show makes you cheer for moments big and small, balancing fight scenes and car chases with as-compelling personal anxieties, revelations, and familial tensions.

More than anything, Sense8 exhibits a rare yet refreshing diversity of race, sexuality, lifestyle, and worldview, where each character is a hero in his/her own way. Leave it to the sci-fi genre to inspire viewers to think of what the world could accomplish if we all felt so closely connected to our fellow humans.

You know how One Direction consisted of a group of solo acts that couldn't make it on their own? Yeah, Legends of Tomorrow is eerily similar to that. (Fun at first, then the unoriginality starts to show).
The cast is literally recycled from the rest of Arrowverse, with one-dimensional heroes who never quite fit in and villains who were previously defeated. With characters that fall perfectly into their stereotypical roles and a dysfunctional team that, two seasons in, still hasn't gotten its shit together, it is no wonder that a show about heroes-destined-to-be-forgotten is never more than the sum of its parts.

Proving that dark comedy and classical soundtracks can elevate legal dramas as well as political/sci-fi thrillers, Robert and Michelle King have once again created an enjoyable (though considerably wackier) show. From the outrageous-yet-engaging premise to the delightful Jonathan Coulton recap songs, BrainDead has crafted itself as a unique political satire, embracing the at-times laughable extremism of our political divide. Nevertheless, while the suspense and sci-fi elements are just bizarre enough to keep you watching, the depiction of our two-party system may not be as far-fetched as you would hope.

If I'm being honest, I only watch this show for Felicity. Now in season 5, Arrow still hasn't learned that rebranding its protagonist's hero name doesn't make up for his lack of actual character development. Oliver's irremediable guilt and angst, which drive just about every plot point in the show, are so pervasive that the writers would rather joke about it through dialogue than come up with a compelling reason to maintain his brooding persona. I will also note my frustration with how Oliver, though a master of seemingly all major fighting styles, still manages to get his ass handed to him on a regular basis.

Each season, I watch Oliver isolate himself from his team, rush to confront the "big bad," then realize the error of his ways, repent, and reconcile. The writers seem to know just how trite their main storyline is, which is why they refuse to abandon the accompanying flashback narratives (which have become just as repetitive, in their own way). Basically, if I wanted to watch a character stuck in a loop, I'd rewatch Westworld.