After a brilliant first season and a muddled second season, Westworld's third outing keeps the mysteries intact, increases the thrills, and streamlines that feeling of deliberate confusion significantly.
Has there ever been a series as bafflingly beautiful, yet maddeningly nonsensical, as Westworld? The new trailer for the highly anticipated third season just dropped.
On the latest episode of AMC's The Terror, Captain Crozier fights for his sobriety, Silence lives up to her name, and the expedition's winter carnival becomes a fiery nightmare.
“The Spy” gets to the heart of the issue, whether it’s a version of the truth, an apology, a confession, a resolution of long-running sexual tension, or the warfare tactics of a giant shadow monster.
“No Future in the Past” crams a whole hell of a lot of plot and content into one episode.
With Victorian cannibal ghosts, time distortion, and pregnancy, “Whiskey Lullaby” will do anything but put you to sleep.
If HBO's Westworld wants its ambitious plot to matter it needs to give audiences better rounded characters.
It’s time to team up with parents and estranged siblings, it’s time to rob an evidence room, destroy an evil utility van, and make a sense-dep tank out of a kiddie pool. “The Bathtub” pulls together all the show’s plot threads into one propulsive rope of suspense.
There is a monster under every bed. There is a monster under everywhere. Chapter Six of Stranger Things is all about getting to know the faceless bad boy that haunts Hawkins.
“Church in Ruins” isn't going to change the minds of viewers who have turned to hate-watching True Detective but lovers of Nic Pizzolatto’s brand of nihilism porn will find it exhilarating.
What happened this episode of Orphan Black? Well, for one we’re finally getting somewhere with our clone mystery, and by “somewhere” I mean we’re at the equivalent of that one pit stop with the big ball of twine—nowhere near the destination, but delightful nonetheless.
“The Laws of Gods and Men” sticks with the season’s contemplative pacing, taking inventory of its characters past deeds while demonstrating how much catharsis a well written and performed monologue can evoke.
When Dr. Lecter is plucking the strings and writing the notes, Hannibal is thrilling, unpredictable and disgustingly beautiful to look at. In “Futamono” we get all of that, some meta humor, and the most disturbingly delicious looking human leg eaten on network TV. Also a fun dinner party.
Disguised as a lit trail of gunpowder leading to a jam-packed keg, True Detective is a thread of black yarn that continues to burn throughout the crowded firework factory that Nic Pizzolatto has made for us, expertly missing all the fuses and gas cans that lesser shows would ignite.
For the first time in True Detective’s run we have been left with an image, burdened with a heavy past, moving toward a future not known by anyone inside the show’s delicate clockwork collage. It’s no longer a matter of whodunit, it’s a matter of who’s-gonna-do-it.