This review is based on the first three episodes of Twenty Twenty Six.

Twenty Twelve and W1A aren’t just good comedies, they’re great comedies, and that’s not an overstatement… that’s an uberstatement.

Through the eyes of Ian Fletcher (Hugh Bonneville), our viewpoint character, these shows gave us a glance at the bafflingly weird world of corporate bureaucracy – first at the Olympic Deliverance Commission and then the BBC. 

Both series were deliberately infuriating, sharply written and surprisingly heartfelt even while satirising the institutional dysfunction that cripples so many UK organisations. 

So when John Morton, the genius behind this brilliant series, announced that he was working on a new show set in the same world, we were like ‘Great, yeah, cool’.

Sadly, though, his latest mockumentary, Twenty Twenty Six – which sees Ian helping organise the 2026 FIFA World Cup – struggles to escape the shadow of his previous work. 

Now I should say that I don’t think Twenty Twenty Six is a bad show; in fact, I think it’s quite a clever and funny show. 

The first two mockumentaries wrung a lot of comedic juice out of British politeness and prevarication. 

Indeed, a character’s inability to say anything without contradicting themselves three or four times in a single sentence was one of the joys of W1A. 

Twenty Twenty Six, however, is more of a fish-out-of-water comedy, with Ian now living in Miami and contending with American (and European, Canadian and Mexican) colleagues who may speak the same language but have a completely different style of communicating. 

It’s a funny evolution of Ian’s normal predicament and makes the series every bit as toe-curlingly awkward as its two cringey predecessors. 

There’s also plenty of servings of the usual delicious word salad, especially from David Tennant, who returns as narrator and the VP On Pitch Protocol Phil Plank, a former footballer who may be more out of his depth than even Ian. 

I also really enjoyed the way the series played with different American stereotypes, be it the slick East Coast lawyer or his more eco-friendly West Coast equivalent. 

It was a fun reminder that the US isn’t a monoculture. 

However, of the new characters introduced, my favourites are easily the World Cup social media team. I’m not sure what Morton thinks of social media, but if I were a betting man, I’d hazard a guess he hates it. 

Seriously, I’ve never seen such a withering take on the vapidness of social media journalism. It’s borderline cruel and all the more fun for it. 

Ultimately, though, what teased the biggest smile out of me, while watching Twenty Twenty Twenty Six, was when the series went to the well and reminded us that humanity only has one common language: incompetence. 

Yes, despite being set over the pond, Twenty Twenty Six embraces its predecessors’ prevailing spirit that if things can go wrong, they will go absurdly wrong, and it will somehow fall on Ian to fix things. 

Speaking of Ian, Bonneville may have spent the last decade cavorting with Paddington Bear and shouting at Butlers in Downton Abbey, but the former Head of Values hasn’t lost his baffled charm. 

He just plays bemused straight man so well, and his painfully patient form of exasperation never fails to make me smile. 

Yet therein lies one of my two main rubs with Twenty Twenty Six, aside from the change in scenery (although it was filmed in Wembley), there’s a slight sense that we’re just playing the hits. 

The jokes are still awkward, but it’s the same stuff Ian was dealing with in W1A, with a FIFA logo (or not as the case may be) glued over the BBC’s. 

It’s not bad persay it’s just a little safe. 

That’s perhaps most reflected in the decision to bring back Will – Ian’s personal assistant from the BBC. 

Now I love Will, but his reason for being in the series is inexcusably thin, and he’s basically there to be the butt of jokes about nepotism and ineptitude just like in W1A.

Funny? Yes. New? Not at all. 

What I think I find so disappointing about this, though, isn’t necessarily that they brought Will back; it’s that they didn’t bring Siobhan (Jessica Hynes) back. 

Siobhan was always the Yin to Ian’s Yang, the thorn in his side, the funny one to his straight man. 

They worked best when they had each other to bounce off, so the decision to have Twenty Twenty Six sing from the same hymn sheet as Twenty Twelve and W1A without her means you notice her absence all the more.

There are also a few jokes made about social politics – specifically the use of they/them – which I must admit landed with an absolute thud for me. 

It’s not that I don’t think you can joke about pronouns, but it felt like such a 2019 gag. 

All that aside, I did enjoy Twenty Twenty Six, and I’m looking forward to watching the last few episodes, especially as there are hints of a slightly deeper running thread teased in the first three episodes. 

It’s just that for me, right, in my opinion, and I’m not being funny or nothing I needed this to be a lot funnier than it is. 

Twenty Twenty Six episode one is available to stream now on BBC iPlayer and will air on BBC Two at 10pm.

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One of the fun things about Netflix’s docuseries Love On The Spectrum is that the show’s producers identify participants that are fan favorites and decide to follow up with them in subsequent seasons, whether they’re still looking for love or are in a relationship. Season 4 finds all of the returnees in relationships, with three new singletons being introduced.

Opening Shot: As with the other seasons of Love On The Spectrum, that season’s participants sit down and say hello to the producers and crew, then they’re asked what love means to them.

The Gist:  Also as with the second and third seasons of the U.S. version of Love On The Spectrum, the show follows around some returning cast members and some new singles looking to start relationships. All of the people being followed are on the autism spectrum, and have expressed a desire to find love but have had difficulty because of their neurodivergent natures.

The people returning are all in some stage of a relationship. There’s Abbey and John — who are basically the Lauren and Cameron of Love On The Spectrum — giving updates. John (not Abbey’s John, but the one from Boston with curly hair), who’s been around since Season 1, has finally found someone in Shelley (who is blonde, by the way). Connor, whom we started following in Season 2, is dating Georgie, but is concerned that her feelings for him run hot and cold. And Madison from Season 3 has been happily dating Tyler, and their relationship has gotten to the point where Madison has decided to move to an apartment in Florida with her brother Parks in order to be closer to her man.

Of course, there are always new single people to follow. Logan, 25, lives in Las Vegas with his mother and twin sister. He likes watching videos of toy trains crashing or falling into water; if the engine has a face like Thomas the Tank Engine, all the better. He goes with his sister to pick a jacket for his first-ever date, and picks a slick blue-velvet number.

Emma, 22, goes to a school for neurodivergent young adults in Utah, and is very outgoing. She definitely has had her crushes over the years. Religion is important to her, and she wants to meet a fellow member of the Church of Latter-Day Saints. We see her go on a date with Austin in Park City, and when she says conversation is important to her, we hear him say “Yeah” and not much more.

We don’t see much of Dylan, 22, in the first episode. He lives in Los Angeles with his mother and cat Oreo, and he is looking for his own Princess Fiona, like Shrek did in one of his favorite movies.

What Shows Will It Remind You Of? There aren’t really many shows like Love On The Spectrum, except for the original Love On The Spectrum Australia, which was from the same production team.

Our Take: One of the things we always appreciate about Love On The Spectrum is that the producers of the show treat the participants with the utmost respect. Yes, they show there is awkwardness on dates, and sometimes that awkwardness is played up a bit, even though difficulty reading social cues is a big part of many of the participants’ neurodivergence. Still, you can tell that they are being supportive of the participants and not exploitative. There’s a reason why participants come back for multiple seasons, even after finding a relationship.

We are happy that the experiences that returnees John, Conner and Madison have gone through when they were single have led them to being in mostly solid relationships, and it’s fun to watch them navigate the usual ups and downs of being in one. It’s especially gratifying to see John in a relationship, given that he’s been trying since the show started, and was the most socially awkward of the original group.

His experience is paralleled in Logan’s story, even though Logan is much younger than John was when he joined the show. In the second episode, the show’s dating expert, Jennifer Cook, pays him a visit and tells him that he should talk to his date about what she likes, “and a little bit about what you like, too.” It seems like obvious advice, but even neurotypical singles don’t adhere to it; imagine how tough it is for someone who can easily take a verbal deep dive into a subject without realizing how bored the other person is.

Performance Worth Watching: We enjoyed meeting Emma, who is probably the most outgoing participant since Abbey in Season 1. Her presence certainly shows that neurodivergence is not a monolith, which is always helpful to show viewers who may not be familiar with how autism presents is unique to the individual.

Sex And Skin: Some kissing, but that’s about it.

Parting Shot: After a romantic Valentine’s Day dinner of McDonald’s cheeseburgers and fries, Tyler sits Madison down and says he wants to give her something. She thinks “a question is going to be popped,” but we’ll have to go to the next episode to see what Tyler has in mind.

Sleeper Star: All of the parents and family members — or in Emma’s case, roommates — are putting in yeoman’s work supporting their loved one’s dating journeys.

Most Pilot-y Line: The awkwardness of Emma’s date is played up a bit, given what we said above.

Our Call: STREAM IT. Love On The Spectrum continues to balance giving viewers updates on the love lives of fan-favorite participants while introducing viewers to new people trying to find love.

Joel Keller (@joelkeller) writes about food, entertainment, parenting and tech, but he doesn’t kid himself: he’s a TV junkie. His writing has appeared in the New York Times, Slate, Salon, RollingStone.com, VanityFair.com, Fast Company and elsewhere.

In the age of binge-watching TV shows in a matter of hours before pressing play on something new to immediately fill the void, I started watching Babies, expecting to be done in one sitting.

But I wasn’t.

Instead, I found myself needing a breather after each 60-minute episode to process the weight behind what I’d seen.

And it was in those moments that I knew this was essential viewing, because it stuck with me long after.

Written by Stefan Golaszewski, the six-part BBC drama follows a married couple in their thirties, desperate to start a family.

But Lisa (Siobhán Cullen) and Stephen (Paapa Essiedu) enter uncharted territory after a string of miscarriages, forced to navigate unforeseen grief and fight to keep their hope burning despite unimaginable losses.

A concurrent storyline involves the honeymoon phase of Amanda’s (Charlotte Riley) and Dave’s (Jack Bannon) relationship. Well, it’s honeymoon bliss for him. For her, he’s a temporary fix for her physical needs and certainly not someone she wants lingering around for deep conversations once the deed is done.

So, when their fling takes an unexpected turn, and real adult responsibilities come into play, both their compatibility and Dave and Stephen’s friendship face the ultimate test.

Pregnancy loss is taboo. No two experiences are the same, so it can feel like crawling through a minefield trying to offer anyone comfort, as you’re afraid of blurting out the wrong thing.

But also, deep down, I think most of us don’t want to accept how grim the reality of it actually is.

When it comes to Babies, however, nothing has been sugarcoated. While it made for uncomfortable viewing at times, Golaszewski’s warts-and-all approach is completely necessary to hammer home the truth of how all-consuming the aftermath of a miscarriage can be.

You will see Lisa lying in bed, almost paralysed with grief. You will see her storm out on her in-laws before sitting down to devour the roast dinner they’ve cooked. You will see a woman transform from fun-loving and high-spirited to someone deeply spiteful and bitter for no reason.

She cries and wails, and none of it looks pretty. She yells at her husband for failing to express his own emotions after having to ‘flush their baby down the toilet’, and, as a viewer, I wanted nothing more than to take her anguish away.

Cullen’s portrayal of the hopeful mum-to-be is gut-wrenching. For many of us, our window to miscarriages is merely statistics and news reports, but with raw finesse, she broadcast that unthinkable trauma right into my living room.

Despite the bleak subject matter, Cullen’s performance shines throughout, having clearly been crafted with respect and an awareness of the responsibility to get it right.

It feels somewhat distasteful to say a drama about baby loss made me smile, not to mention laugh. But what also radiates is its hope and humour, which, after interviewing Golaszewski and the cast, I understand was their intention. Consider that box ticked.

Babies strikes the light and shade balance perfectly. For every tearful showdown or demoralising doctor’s consultation, there’s a sarcastic quip or niche British-flavoured one-liner. While laced with deep sadness and hardship, its warmth and tenderness never falter. Even in its darkest moments, the show somehow manages to resurrect faith, sending a powerful message to anyone with whom the story resonates that, even when your world feels like it’s ending, it will keep turning.

That’s not to say a positive mindset is always shown to be for the better. At times, Stephen’s reluctance to acknowledge his grief infuriated me. His optimism becomes much more of a hindrance than a help as he buries his emotions in favour of his wife sharing hers.

As a viewer, I hoped for him to open up with every scene, and yet time and time again, he dismisses his pain with laddish banter and the toxic ‘keep calm, carry on’ attitude so prevalent in male friendship circles.

But that is exactly why his character is needed.

When Stephen finally lets his guard down, it’s a tsunami moment, and it almost instiled pride in me to see him hold an earnest conversation without turning it into a joke.

Similarly, Dave’s character is one of the best on-screen examples I’ve seen of the concept of masculinity and how it can cause conflict where emotions are concerned.

His naiveties and foolishness make for entertaining viewing, there’s no doubt about it, especially when he’s the cheese to Amanda’s chalk, and she, quite frankly, would rather be anywhere else than listening to his rambles and answering his preposterous existential questions.

But beneath his comical exterior is a man who is drowning, not because he doesn’t want to open up, but because he doesn’t even know how. As his father is introduced, it becomes apparent that impassivity has been passed down through generations, and Dave has never known any different. It suddenly becomes unsurprising that, despite considering Stephen his closest friend, they hardly know anything about one another.

There is, however, a glimmer of opportunity in his own son, Daniel, from a past romance. They can barely hold a conversation, and Dave has no clue how to be a parent beyond sitting his kid in front of a games console, but in keeping with the hope woven into the fabric of Babies, eventually, something slowly begins to shift, culminating in some of the most poignant moments of television I’ve seen this year.

In the era of Adolescence and Inside the Manosphere, the importance of such storylines cannot be underestimated. We’ve seen firsthand how they spark conversations, and I’m glad to see a TV drama taking full advantage of its power there.

All in all, Babies is as heartening as it is heartbreaking. Is it slow at times? Yes. But I came to realise that the stillness can be essential. It’s not always about saying something. On several occasions, what isn’t being said matters even more.

Whether it’s going to rock the British TV drama landscape, I’m not convinced, but somehow, that’s irrelevant. Despite its bravery in tackling such a heavy story, there’s no pompous ambition or self-entitlement here, and there’s nothing preachy about Golaszewski’s writing.

I think what counts most is that, for one person, one couple, watching at home, it is going to validate their suffering in a way most people they know will probably be too nervous to even try to do.

You may argue that’s not enough, but sometimes, the simplest thing about something is also the most beautiful.

I didn’t find Babies easy to watch, but doing so touched me in ways I’ll be thinking about for a while.

All episodes of Babies land on BBC iPlayer from 6am on Monday, March 30, with the series airing on BBC One from 9pm that night.

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Australia’s brand of small-town mystery is different than we see from most other countries, mainly because the small towns are tiny and insular, and the people who live there wear their biases on their sleeves (they’re also full of crocs, but that’s another matter). It definitely helps inform Acorn TV‘s prequel series Mystery Road: Origin.

Opening Shot: In a marshy area, a child runs away from someone; he’s holding a baseball cap. He’s then approached by a man, and disappears.

The Gist:  “THIRTY YEARS LATER. EASTER 2000.” Detective Jay Swan (Mark Coles Smith) is driving towards the town of Loch Iris, when he almost gets sideswiped by a pickup truck driving erratically through a gate. He catches up with the truck, which crashed into a tree, only to find that the person driving it is a kid he later finds out is named Swayze (Aswan Reid).

This is his first day in Loch Iris, as he’s been transferred to that district by the territorial police. His wife Mary (Tuuli Narkle), who is pregnant with their first child, and 7-year-old niece Anya (Eloise Hart) have already moved there ahead of his arrival, and they’re living in a caravan park.

On the way to bringing Swayze to get checked out in the hospital, Swan stops at the local police station, to find out that the local police chief, Simmo (Robyn Malcolm) is at the pub. When he finds her, she says that she’s well aware of his new assignment, but warns him that he was sent to the “ass end of nowhere.”

After bringing Swayze to the hospital, he finally arrives at the RV where Mary and Anya are living. Anya is playing with her friend Scarlett (Scarlett Yarran), who’s under the care of a foster parent. He helps watch them while Mary goes to work at the hospital, where she’s a nurse.

Loch Iris is Mary’s hometown, and her mother grew up at the “home” that used to be associated with the local mission. A nun that works at the hospital, Sister Carrie (Helen Morse), used to work at the mission is surprised to learn that Mary is of Aboriginal descent, but is shocked when Mary mentions her mother’s name.

The next day, Swan finds the hospital’s social worker questioning Scarlett’s foster mother after she reports Scarlett missing. He immediately suspects Joey (Luke Carroll), a local handyman who the kids at the caravan park seem to trust, though Simmo vouches for him. Phillip Lloyd (Geoff Morrell), a chemo patient at the hospital, offers the Swans a house to stay in, rent free, which makes Jay suspicious. At the hospital, Swayze has a violent reaction when Sister Carrie comes in with prayer cards and some comfort. The posters for a child who went missing in 1970 still dot the town.

What Shows Will It Remind You Of? Mystery Road: Origin is a prequel to the 2018-20 series Mystery Road. Aaron Pederson played Swan in the original series and the 2013 film the series is based on.

Our Take: At this point, it seems that creepiness and violence follows Jay Swan around, and we see that in the second season of Mystery Road: Origins. But any mystery that he has to solve also involves overcoming people’s biases about Aboriginals. It’s something that both Jay and Mary, who are both of Aboriginal descent, have had to deal with in their careers and in their lives, and it’s a significant factor in the mysteries they try to solve.

One of the things we appreciate about this prequel, though, is that Jay isn’t a lone wolf. Although he may seem like a young guy who’s rocketed up the police ladder by playing by the book and being good at his job, Mary isn’t just there as a supportive wife. In this case, being in her hometown, as well as her mother’s history with the “home” that was likely a place where Aboriginal kids were mistreated, will very much factor into the various mysteries that Jay is going to look into.

The other part of the story is Jay continually having to prove himself due to his race. He’s already got an uphill battle with the police chief, Simmo, who calls him “that Black fella cop who had the speedy rise up the ranks” when they first meet. She knows he got his last boss thrown in prison, so her immediate mistrust of him already runs deep. That will always be a part of the narrative in Mystery Road: Origin, and it adds a dimension to the cases Jay works, because he has to be wary and suspicious at all times due to the biases of most of the people he deals with.

Performance Worth Watching: While Smith is appropriately stoic as Jay, we keep wanting to see more of Tuuli Narkle as Mary, given that she is more forgiving and less suspicious than Jay, but just as sharp.

Sex And Skin: None.

Parting Shot: Jay goes into Sister Carrie’s house when he sees something suspicious as he passes it in his truck. He finds the body of the nun in an overflowing bathtub.

Sleeper Star: Robyn Malcolm is appropriately a-holish as the proprietary police chief Simmo.

Most Pilot-y Line: None we could find. Mystery Road: Origin doesn’t tend to be a show that’s overly weighed down by exposition or reptition.

Our Call: STREAM IT. Mystery Road: Origin continues to give viewers compelling mysteries combined with Jay Swan’s determination to make his work speak for itself despite the racism that he faces on a daily basis.

Joel Keller (@joelkeller) writes about food, entertainment, parenting and tech, but he doesn’t kid himself: he’s a TV junkie. His writing has appeared in the New York Times, Slate, Salon, RollingStone.com, VanityFair.com, Fast Company and elsewhere.

Nearly 15 years ago, Steve Carell’s farewell episode of The Office aired on NBC and marked the end of an undeniably iconic era in comedy. Since playing Michael Scott, Carell has primarily pursued film roles while dazzling in small screen dramas. He co-created and starred in Netflix’s Space Force (canceled after its sophomore season) and recently appeared in eight episodes of Tina Fey’s The Four Seasons. But his new HBO series, Rooster, helps him find his sweet spot again. And it’s difficult to stress just how comforting it is to see him lead the charge in another comedy series specifically designed to showcase his strengths.

The half-hour workplace sitcom with a unique father-daughter dynamic at its core comes from tireless TV titan Bill Lawrence, who teamed up with longtime creative collaborator Matt Tarses while simultaneously reviving Scrubs on ABC and juggling new seasons of Apple TV’s Shrinking, Ted Lasso, and Bad Monkey. Joining forces with one of television’s most trusted comedy creators was long overdue for HBO, but the network is making up for lost time with a legendary leading man.

Taking inspiration from real-life novelist (and Bad Monkey author) Carl Hiaasen, Carell’s character Greg Russo is a best-selling writer of self-proclaimed “beach reads,” which feature a protagonist named — drumroll, please — Rooster! When we first meet Greg, he’s visiting Ludlow College as a guest lecturer, but he accepted the gig with an ulterior motive. His daughter Katie (Charly Clive) and her husband Archie (Phil Dunster) are professors there, but after learning that Archie cheated on his daughter with a grad student named Sunny (Lauren Tsai), Greg decides to check-in on Katie. She’s understandably spiraling, so when Ludlow’s president (John C. McGinley) reveals her job is at risk due to erratic behavior, Greg reluctantly agrees to extend his gig for the semester to save her career.

Returning collaborators in front of and behind the camera evoke the essence of Lawrence’s other shows, but fresh leads, an academic setting, and edgier HBO humor sets Rooster apart from the flock. If you’re a fan of either Lawrence or Carell, Rooster is undoubtedly a must-watch. But in teaming up with the prestige network, the men created a holy TV trinity that set the bar sky high. So the pressure to deliver is on…

Accepting the president’s ultimatum gives Greg a taste of the college experience he never had, inspiring him to act more like his bolder, cooler book character and embrace his inner Rooster. Becoming part of the campus community also challenges him and Katie to strengthen their relationship. Since Rooster’s success heavily hinges on the cohesion and charm of Clive and Carell’s characters, the fact that their roles feel so bespoke is the show’s most promising sign. Clive, a British comedian with a downright fascinating career trajectory, absolutely shines in her first American TV role. She plays Katie’s messiness, impulsivity, and raw emotions with ease, stealing scenes and evoking a balanced mix of empathy and laughter from viewers. The real-life experiences of Girl Dads Lawrence, Tarses, and Carell helped shape Rooster’s anchoring duo, but Clive’s effortless chemistry with Carell is what makes each interaction feel authentic, regardless of tone.

The show has its fair share of farcical aspects that invite the audience to suspend disbelief, often related to crossing social boundaries with students and a lack of accountability for adults. While it’s distracting at times, Carell’s winsome brand of humor wonderfully coalesces with his humanity in a way that will leave viewers feeling warm and craving more — like Greg after he downs hot chocolate from the college town’s year-round Christmas store. Rooster’s protagonist is endearingly awkward, predictably out of touch with Gen Z, and full of heart, but he isn’t always in high spirits…

As Greg and his daughter navigate her unexpected marital crisis, we learn he still hasn’t recovered from his own divorce or his ex-wife Elizabeth (Spin City‘s Connie Britton) cheating on him. Shrinking‘s “dead wife face” evolves to “ex-wife face,” and in the vein of the grief comedy’s therapists trying to help others while struggling to help themselves, Rooster sees Ludlow’s faculty members teaching students while struggling to learn about their own relationships, shortcomings, and lives. (At one point Greg even invites a student to live with him, which mirrors one of Shrinking’s unorthodox therapist/patient relationships.) The lovable series is less saccharine than Ted Lasso, and though it doesn’t capture The Office’s offensive cringe-comedy, it finds smart ways to tackle inappropriate humor. The soundtrack swiftly sets the mood by cleverly taking viewers back to Lawrence and Tarses’ college days. And as expected from the creator’s projects, Rooster also excels because of its strong ensemble.

Danielle Deadwyler’s Dylan, a poetry professor who quickly hits it off with Greg, is a clear standout. While Deadwyler is primarily known for dramatic excellence, we saw a lighter side of her in The Bear Season 4, and she flexes her comedic chops again in Rooster — while serving as one the show’s most sensible characters. Her sparks with Carell are instantaneous, and a shared scene in the pilot solidifies them as a compelling pair with potential for a seriously satisfying will-they-won’t-they slow burn.

As Ted Lasso fans know, Dunster’s nailed the handsome narcissistic asshole act, though it fails to be seen if Archie’s swelled ego leaves space for a Jamie Tartt-style redemption arc. As Archie selfishly handles his relationships with Katie and Sunny, Dunster explores drastically different, equally entertaining dynamics with Clive and Tsai, who pleasantly surprises as an aspiring biotechnology intern with a deliciously dry sense of humor. Rounding out the core cast is McGinley’s Walt, a hot sauna/cold plunge aficionado with frequent shirtless scenes and a big personality that clashes with more subdued characters. In another reminder of casting director Allison Jones’ sharp eye for terrific talent, guest stars like Annie Mumolo, Rory Scovel, and Robby Hoffman demand the spotlight whenever they’re on screen, and smaller players like Maximo Salas and the students — including Tarses’ daughter, Fiona — make the most of their screen time.

While the cast features masters of comedic timing, physical comedy, standup, and improv that brilliantly play off each other, it’s hard not to compare Rooster to Lawrence and Carell’s past projects. Though the series strikes the creator’s signature balance of humor and emotional depth, Rooster has yet to rival Shrinking, Ted Lasso, or The Office. That’s not to say the six of ten episodes made available for review weren’t a genuinely fun ride; rather, it’s a testament to the incredible heights we’ve seen both men reach. But some of the best sitcoms — The Office included— take time to build up to their full potential.

Even if it hasn’t exceeded the soaring expectations set right off the bat, the show feels like an instant comfort watch with a solid foundation and real promise. Rooster wastes no time spreading its wings, so here’s hoping the series soars higher and longer than its flightless namesake. 

Rooster premieres on HBO and HBO Max on Sunday, March 8.

Season 1 of Peacock‘s Ted prequel series laid on the gross gags pretty thick. There wasn’t a whole lot in the way of character development, and humor coming out of those characters. Sure, we don’t expect Seth MacFrarlane’s vulgar and racist teddy bear to get better — he’s a talking teddy bear! But we wish we saw more than what we did in the first season . Is the second season better?

TED SEASON 2: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT? 

Opening Shot: At the Bennett house, John Bennet (Max Burkholder) and Ted (voice of Seth MacFarlane) watch an SNL episode hosted by Patrick Stewart with Salt-N-Pepa as the musical guest; they try to come up with the most “fucked up” host-musical guest combinations they can think of.

The Gist:  After SNL ends and Showtime At The Apollo begins, John and his vulgar teddy bear buddy see an ad for a phone sex line. They know if they call a 1-900 number, John’s parents Matty (Scott Grimes) and Susan (Alanna Ubach) would probably blow their stacks (at least Matty will).

At school the next day, as they look for a place to smoke a joint, John and Ted find a phone in the basement. They call the 1-900 line from the ads and they get through. Success! They talk to a girl named “Shawna” who makes believe she’s having an orgasm almost as soon as they say their names. “We’re hurting her!” the inexperienced John says to Ted.

Days go by and many boxes of tissues are consumed. In the meantime, John’s cousin Blaire (Giorgia Whigham) tells Matty and Susan that her father — Matty’s older brother — Bernie (Scott Michael Campbell) wants to visit, and Blaire doesn’t want him there. Matty, who always believes he’s the king of the castle, insists. Of course, when Bernie does arrive, he spends time bullying his little brother with strong nut taps and other physical abuse. He also wants Blaire to come back home, mainly because Blaire’s mom left him and he needs someone to take care of him. Blaire, for her part, starts to call her father on his bullying of her uncle, but not before she’s confronted by Matty’s bare ass slung over Bernie’s shoulder.

Back at school the inevitable happens; the principal (Penny Johnson Jerald) tells the class that they got a phone bill for $5000 and they’re going to investigate who called this phone sex line with the help of determined Board of Ed investigator Mr. Lawrence (Peter Macon). The seniors are angry that the state-sanction “senior cut day” was taken from them and they chant for the “masturbators” to reveal themselves. In the meantime, John and Ted try to figure out how to get the heat off of them, including making up a student named Jeremy Schwarzfinger, who “liked Sublime before 1992.”

What Shows Will It Remind You Of? Ted is a prequel to the Ted movies that starred Mark Wahlberg. More than ever, it feels like a live-action Family Guy.

Our Take: We will say that the writing of MacFarlane, who directed the episode, and his writers was a bit tighter in the second season premiere of Ted than it was in the first season. There was more than one gag that made us laugh, and we didn’t get a whole lot of the signature MacFarlane “stretch a gag until it becomes unfunny, then funny again” schtick.

We kind of wish the story wasn’t about Ted and John as much as it is, though. Sure, the show is called Ted, and having a living, f-bomb-dropping, somewhat racist teddy bear is this show’s reason for being. But all we see Ted and John doing is stupid crap and getting away with it, while there’s actual stories going on with the rest of the Bennett family.

Blaire is actually the emotional center of the show, and it’s evident in the story where she tries to get her father Bernie to stop bullying her uncle Matty, and takes matters into her own hands when he won’t stop. We would love to see a show about how Blaire is making her own way in mid-’90s Massachusetts, and finding that living with the Bennetts, including her dopey cousin and a bear that wonders which order he’d sleep with the women from Friends, is still preferable to her own family.

We do get the feeling that most of the season will progress like this, with John and Ted getting into stupid crap and actual character development happening around them. That’s a whole lot better than what we got with the first season, so maybe sight gags like seeing a pile of used tissues get bigger is the price to pay to get to know the other Bennetts a little bit.

Performance Worth Watching: When we say that Blaire is the emotional center of the show, we mean it, and it comes through in Giorgia Whigham’s performance.

Sex And Skin: Surprisingly, nothing explicit except the sight of Matty’s bare ass. The rest is just talk.

Parting Shot: Matty and Blaire have a beer, and she says, “I’m glad I’m here.” Matty says, “Have you heard about this kid Jeremy?”

Sleeper Star: Scott Grimes has been doing this a long, long time, and he does a great job of showing how Matty pretends he’s in control, but knows he absolutely isn’t.

Most Pilot-y Line: Mr. Lawrence: “No one in Framingham was listening to Sublime before 1992, when their debut studio album 40 Oz. To Freedom rocked the charts!”

Our Call: STREAM IT, but barely. Ted is definitely more watchable in Season 2, more interested in character and story than it was in Season 1. But we just wish that, while Ted himself is pretty irredeemable, we got more growth out of John rather than just a series of gross shennanigans.

How To Watch Ted

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You can save a bit by subscribing to one of Peacock’s annual plans, which give you 12 months for the price of 10. These cost either $109.99 with ads or $169.99 without ads.

Peacock Premium Plus is also available to subscribe to via Prime Video with a seven-day free trial that you can’t get by subscribing directly on Peacock.

Joel Keller (@joelkeller) writes about food, entertainment, parenting and tech, but he doesn’t kid himself: he’s a TV junkie. His writing has appeared in the New York Times, Slate, Salon, RollingStone.com, VanityFair.com, Fast Company and elsewhere.

When Bridgerton hit Netflix in 2020, the dreamy adaptation of Julia Quinn’s steamy romance novels about a Regency family of eight gorgeous siblings looking for true love initially treated lead couple Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dynevor) and the Duke of Hastings (Regé-Jean Page) as its objects of obsession. Daphne’s seven other siblings were there, sure, but the show followed the sizzle of her early flirtations with the dashing Duke, the fun of their fake romance, the thrill of them admitting their true love, and their success overcoming their marriage’s first terrible obstacle. Subsequent seasons also successfully balanced Bridgerton‘s massive ensemble cast of characters while letting the new lead romance take center stage. That is, until Bridgerton Season 4.

Bridgerton Season 4 tells the story of how flighty and free-spirited second son Benedict (Luke Thompson) meets the love of his life first as a mysterious masked lady at a ball and then, in her true form, as the charming and clever ladies maid Sophie Baek (Yerin Ha). It’s “Cinderella” set in Bridgerton, finally opening up our understanding of the ton to include tetchy class politics. Bridgerton Season 4 is also the first time the series feels like it might have a “Bridgerton” problem.

There are so many characters vying for attention in Bridgerton Season 4 Part 2 that I sometimes felt like I was watching a Regency romance version of Adult Swim’s landmark 2014 sketch “Too Many Cooks.” Instead of Smarf and friends, though, Bridgerton Season 4 Part 2 has too many Bridgertons and not enough Benedict and Sophie.

Bridgerton Season 4 Part 2 picks up where Part 1 left off, with Sophie reeling from Benedict’s indecent (though period appropriate) proposal for her to be his mistress. In Benedict’s eyes, this is the only option available to them as a gentleman cannot marry a maid nor the illegitimate child of a nobleman. In Sophie’s eyes, being his mistress robs her of her virtue, ensuring she can never marry anybody else if Benedict later discards her, while setting her own potential children up to know the same hell she has endured being a bastard. Meanwhile, Sophie’s vile stepmother, Lady Araminta Gun (Katie Leung), has moved next door to Bridgerton House, ensuring a confrontation.

In Quinn’s novel, this is drama enough for the story, but Bridgerton continues to follow Lady Violet’s (Ruth Gemmell) romance with Lord Anderson (Daniel Francis), Lady Danbury’s (Adjoa Andoh) struggle to endear her chosen replacement, Mrs. Mondrich (Emma Naomi), to Queen Charlotte (Golda Rosheuvel), and Penelope’s (Nicola Coughlan) stress trying to be Lady Whistledon and Mrs. Bridgerton. Oh, and Kate (Simone Ashley) and Anthony (Jonathan Bailey) finally return from India with their new baby boy, little Bridgertons Hyacinth (Florence Hunt) and Gregory (Will Tilston) are tiptoeing into society with a cute recital, and Francesca (Hannah Dodd) is trying to understand why her husband’s sultry cousin Michaela Stirling (Masali Baduza) is forcing such a wedge between her and Lord Kilmartin (Victor Alli).

If this sounds like a lot — on top of maid wars, the return of a beloved side character, and Eloise (Claudia Jessie) experiencing her first bout of growth in ages — it is. All of this together is enough to overshadow the season’s central romance. However, halfway through Bridgerton Season 4 Part 2, something major happens that is yanked straight from author Julia Quinn’s books, only it’s from a wholly different love story. The implications of this event, along with its profound ripple effects, don’t just touch Sophie and Benedict’s story, but everyone’s.

After having only seen the first part of Bridgerton Season 4, I was utterly charmed by new leads Luke Thompson and Yerin Ha’s chemistry, but I was already concerned the show was trying to juggle too much material. Now, those fears have been realized, resulting in a season of television that feels more cozy family ensemble drama than top tier TV romance. The irony is that Bridgerton Season 4 saves its most passionate love scenes for Part 2. Benedict and Sophie’s sex scenes don’t just sweep the audience away, but illustrate in real time how the power imbalance in their romance adjusts and corrects.

When we first met the Bridgertons all the way back in Season 1, we were told that they were a “shockingly prolific family,” but the clan has exponentially grown into the point of barely controlled chaos. Now the Featheringtons are all legally Bridgertons, Lady Danbury’s Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story-era affair with Lady Violet’s father makes her their spiritual grandmother, and the Mondrichs are essentially acting as cousins. Everyone is a Bridgerton!!!

All of these characters are charming and all of these characters have their own stories to tell. However, you can’t really explore the sacred bond of a love story unless you’re willing to show how it feels when two people connect and the rest of the world — the overpopulated, overstimulating, overstuffed world — falls away.

Bridgerton Season 4 Part 2 is streaming now on Netflix.