Severance S2 (Apple TV)
The long wait for Severance season two has allowed for expectations to compound and the number of viewers to rise. However, these factors clearly didn’t pressure Ben Stiller and Dan Erickson into making them pull their punches as they delivered a towering achievement in television with this darker and more esoteric season.
The path between questions and answers is more scattered this season which can make viewing borderline frustrating. Whilst in season one moving from mysteries to answers was like following relatively straightforward pathways, the routes in season two to reach answers were more like wading through a foggy forest with how information and solutions were scattered about and then followed up by a bombardment of completely separate mysteries to divert your attention and obscure your burning questions. This destabilising method of answering the viewer will vary in effectiveness from person to person however I loved it. It made viewing more arresting as it made me feel more involved by making me scrounge together the show’s subplots and information, giving this season a more puzzle-like quality which was incredibly fun. Plus, almost every question is definitively answered by the finale, so the show does ultimately provide satisfaction.
The cinematography is a core element in building Severance’s ominous atmosphere, especially with its heavy use of negative space in its framing which will force characters into halves, thirds or even quarters of a frame. This framing effectively created a sense of dissonance which enhanced the show’s themes of corporate isolation and further emersed me into the show’s oppressive atmosphere. This season also became more experimental, particularly in episode seven which adopts many unique stylistic techniques such as the movement between filmic and digital aesthetics and the use of different frame rate and playback speeds which was gorgeous to look at.
Performance-wise, this season demanded more from its actors and everyone brought their A-game however the star performer is without a doubt Tramell Tillman as Mr Milchick. Tillman masterfully walks the line between the show’s cocktail of tones, one minute being a hilarious riot, the other exuding pure dread and intensity. Milchick’s company promotion this season also gave Tillman much more to chew on as an actor, with the character’s position not quite fitting in with his employees but also not with upper management either. Tillman excellently displays more of Milchick’s humanity here, showing the loneliness Milchick feels in this position and the realisation of the company’s lack of care for his individual identity, impressively binding the show’s themes of corporate isolation to his performance and character.
I also loved Theodore Shapiro’s score which feels like the show’s backbone. The score has a very foreboding sensibility to it in addition to a percussive melancholy which taps into the show’s exploration of depression from incomplete feeling lives. This makes Shapiro’s work feel integral, reinforcing the show’s ideas as well as being a key tone setter, particularly with the rising ominous texture to the score as the season progresses, building tension and urgency as the season approaches its nuclear crescendo.
As someone who has been intently waiting since season one’s devastating cliffhanger, I can confidently say Severance season two met my lofty expectations. Severance is now two for two in masterclass seasons of television, making it an absolute must watch for anyone.
Adolescence (Netflix)
Through four, hour long episodes, each their own extended single take, Adolescence touches on the state of Britain’s youth, modern masculinity, the impact of social media on young men’s self-worth, and on parenthood. It is a rather sobering watch, but is utterly compelling throughout. Every member of the cast is on top form, with Owen Cooper, Ashley Walters and Stephen Graham all delivering excellent performances. Graham’s work, as a father in pained incredulity at the events happening to his family, proves to be the show’s emotional core. Episode one is a barnstorming opening, guiding us through Jamie’s entire arrest process into a shocking revelation, all in one unbroken take. It is a feat to behold.
The middle two episodes detail the role social media has played in the formation of Jamie’s attitude towards women and the state of many young men right now. Clearly written by someone who does not fully understand the intricacies of online interactions, the discussions of how damaging these online spaces are for developing minds are told through adult characters also seeking to understand. The subject is approached with a sensitivity and open mindedness that means the show never comes across as talking down to its audience. Instead, it makes astute points that clearly deliver an indictment of what social media has done and is doing to young people.
The one shot conceit does much for the immersion of each episode. Episode three in particular becomes a deeply engrossing extended conversation, revealing endless layers as it progresses. However, this trick forces more believable groupings of characters together in the same space, limiting some of its ideas to narrower perspectives than I might like and preventing a broader interplay of the generational misunderstandings being discussed. The show is fantastic, but that limitation of setting in the middle episodes means it does not drill quite as deep as it could do.
Although consistently excellent, it is episode four that emerges as a singular masterwork. We see Jamie’s father, mother and sister try to live normal lives despite constant reminders of their son’s absence and his actions. It is the most technically ambitious of all the episodes in the range of locations and moods it captures in one take, but also the most emotionally harrowing, with a devastating emotional fallout. Graham comes into his own in a shattering story of the loss of innocence and a father’s perceived failure of his son. All three family members struggle in their own way, and all three performances are astonishing. A conversation shared between Graham and Christine Tremarco (as his wife) about how this all happened is utterly heartbreaking. The ending sees Graham reach levels of raw pain that very few actors have ever achieved. It is brutal and shattering, but the entire show is worth watching for that finale alone.
Even if I do not think it is flawless, this is an astonishing show in many ways. Incredible technical craft, emotionally harrowing and thoughtful in its look at modern youth and their parents, every episode is hard to look away from. At less than 4 hours in total runtime, it is impossible to skip. Gripping, heartbreaking television.
Apple Cider Vinegar (Netflix)
Apple Cider Vinegar concerns a real life, deeply obnoxious, insecure person; so insecure in fact that they lie about having brain cancer to gain popularity, build an online health advice empire, manipulate everyone they come across in life for their gain and reap every penny they can out of it. Belle Gibson is a character that is incredibly easy to hate, and the show does not dissuade our disgust towards her actions. Rather, it somehow drills enough under her skin that maybe we feel we can understand her. It does not ask for our empathy, but by diving into the life of someone so fake, it cuts through her lies to tell us the truth about her personality.
She is a woman whose compulsive, crippling need for attention is enabled by the arrival of social media proper at the start of the 2010s, a space where anyone can manipulate any story they tell into truth. It would be less likely to work without the ever fantastic Kaitlyn Dever who has continually impressed since her big arrival on the scene in Booksmart. Any moment she is on screen as Belle, her eyes tell a truth that her actions and words do not. She delivers a performance that subtly but powerfully draws attention to the fact that Belle herself is always putting on a performance. Her eyes appear to be performing separately from the rest of her body so as to tell us the truth and the lies simultaneously.
The show smartly takes in the impact of these lies in two other narrative strands. Firstly, the struggles of another online health guru who actually fights with cancer as she tries to build her own business. Secondly, those of a journalist and his cancer-fighting wife and how their disagreements over Belle’s online presence split them apart, driving him to pursue a story that will tear Belle down. The show jumps across time rather intensely to take in all these interweaving stories across roughly five years, and the first half struggles to give each story enough breathing space due to how quickly it moves between them.
However, it is in the second half when the events and characters of each strand start to link together more closely that the show hits its stride. As the toll of Belle’s lies really start to have tangibly-felt consequences, an engaging momentum builds as we hurtle towards the inevitable disintegration of her world. The show also frequently employs VFX to place Belle’s online world in her physical environment. This device feels a little overused, but effectively summarises how her head is forever stuck inside her phone, as she near totally neglects her duties towards her partner and son, both clearly struggling with how little she seems to care about them.
Even if at times the show can be a little overbearing stylistically, this effect is intentional, making the obnoxiousness of people like Belle (who now litter social media) absolutely evident. Its finale glosses over a lot of details rather quickly, but this tidiness is exactly what makes seeing the comeuppance of a woman this detestable so satisfying.
Big Boys S3 (Channel Four)
Jack Rooke got back to his laptop to continue the story of Big Boys with the shows third instalment in 2025.
Big Boys has always been good, and always presents itself as a show written by someone born and bred in the beating heart of the UK, with an intricate understanding of its working classes and kitschy popular culture. Season Three carries on in this vein and is littered with the same working-class characters and working-class popular culture references. Rylan even makes an appearance.
As well as knowing the pop culture religion of the ordinary people of Britain, Rooke has an uncanny ability to present nostalgia for the 2010s in his sitcom. It’s nostalgia and a throwback for an era we forgot had any distinctive features. But when you’re reminded of the level of cringe that the spoken-word poetry movement generated – you remember how different a time 2015 actually was.
There are some incredibly hilarious comedy performances in Big Boys. Harriet Webb who plays Cousin Shannon probably provides the best of them. In a show that bears homage to the stupid, hilarious and eccentric ways working-class British people sometimes think, Webb is allowed to thrive. Some of her one liners are delivered masterfully and her upset at missing her “Q2” deadline to launch: “Shanalanagans Party Planners LTD Incorporated” is laugh out loud.
Season Three of Big Boys even plays with genre and form when the writer of the show appears in the finale - as himself. The entire series is underpinned by the real life tragedy of Rooke’s best friend Danny (played by Jon Pointing) taking his own life. What emerges when Rook confronts this sadness, is a real celebration of his friend and the brief time they spent together. The pathos of the show is authentic and balances out the slapstick and zany humour well.
The real success of Big Boys is that it has what every good sit-com has: a group of characters and character dynamics that you root for, believe in, and come to love.
American Primeval (Netflix)
10 years on, the bear attack in The Revenant is still recalled as one of the most brutal moments in TV and Film. With this in mind, when Revenant writer Mark L Smith’s American Primeval landed on Netflix at the start of the year, audiences might have expected more brutality. They might not have expected quite this level of it, though.
American Primeval is one of the bleakest, most traumatic and violent things on Netflix. There are ruthless depictions of mass murders. Children are killed, women are sexually assaulted, and men are scalped. Dark and severe twists block out any ray of light that temporarily emerges from the show. Performances from the actors read as people who were genuinely stressed and terrified. We all know the frontier was a lawless and savage place, American Primeval remains committed to an unflinching depiction of it.
Due to its persistent brutality, American Primeval has faced criticism as misery porn. It is true that one scene of characters running away from murder bleeds into the next scene of characters running away from murder for all six episodes of the series. The action is comically savage at times, to the point where the shows creators could be found guilty of gratuitousness. But despite the stress and brutality and violence, American Primeval still emerges as a high quality, highly watchable drama.
The seismic inciting incident of American Primeval is a sequence based on the real-life events of the Mountain Meadows Massacre. It was a moment in history where the persecuted Mormons of the American frontier used violence to protect their self-proclaimed Zion. We see the massacre of a travelling wagon train at the hands of the Mormons in (of course) brutal detail. But the events are used well to trigger an enticing murder mystery strand within the series. The audience know it was the Mormons that killed the men, women and children of the wagon train. We crave everyone finding out the truth and them being brought to justice for what they did.
With this in mind, the other thing that American Primeval does quite masterfully is weave together multiple story strands and multiple character factions. You have the Native Americans, the Mormons, the American Government officials, and a central band of misfits united by the purpose of getting Sara (Betty Gilpin) and her son across the brutal West to their family in Crook Springs. The way all of these factions intersect and bump into each other feels adept and considered throughout the entire series. Something that isn’t easy to accomplish in an ensemble series like this.
The brutality of American Primeval is exhibited by each and every one of the factions and races mentioned above. Mark L Smith seems to believe in the mantra that the line between good and evil doesn’t run between states and nations, but through the heart of every person. Natives, Mormons and Government officials alike are capable of vicious acts in American Primeval. Above all, the series makes you reflect on the irreversible atrocities that underscore the formation of the United States.
SAS Rogue Heroes S2 (BBC)
SAS Rogue Heroes Series 2 reminds you of a time when TV was good.
2025 was ushered in with a raft of new TV shows, and there’s no doubt that the men of the UK were most looking forward to the second instalment of SAS Rogue Heroes, whose first series aired in 2022 to popular and critical acclaim.
Season 2 is definitely good. In a time of retracting TV show budgets and risk aversion from channels, it really does feel like proper prestige television with no expense spared on locations, stunts and SFX. It’s so gory and explosive that it feels more like a high budget Netflix show than a British creation on the BBC – perhaps a testament to the power and sway that Steven Knight holds in the industry (Maria, a feature film written by him, starring Angelina Jolie, was released in the UK in the same week).
Rogue Heroes S2 has an Inglorious Basterds feel to it. It follows a band of outlaws whose insanity has been harnessed for the good of the Allied war effort. Sardonic titles pop up underscored by electric guitars to introduce us to certain characters and moments, like they do for characters like Hugo Stiglitz in Tarantino’s movie. Jock McDiarmid (Mark Rowley) is made in the swashbuckling, fearless mode of Eli Roth’s Donny Donowitz. References to Inglorious Basterds is another thing that makes this show feel blockbuster rather than small scale.
The themes that Steven Knight is preoccupied with as a writer run heavily through this series. Peaky Blinders is concerned with toxic, unhinged men who will make war if it doesn’t find them, and Rogue Heroes marches along on this same well-trodden ground.
Jack O’Connell’s Paddy Mayne reminds you of Tommy Shelby: an ultimately broken man whose mental detachment make him an efficient killer and fearless man of action. He’s got a screw loose, but it’s working for him.
War induced PTSD ran through Peaky Blinders and it becomes a major theme in the second half of this series of Rogue Heroes, explored through the character of Reg Seekings (Theo Barklem-Biggs). There are some genuinely harrowing moments in series 2, namely watching a young Italian boy being blown up and be disembowelled.
This second series of Rogue Heroes is in part a great watch because it makes use of so many fascinating war tropes such as PTSD and insanity dressed up as bravery. This could also be levelled as a criticism against the series which didn’t really give you any fresh takes on any of these ideas. The PTSD storyline, in particular, felt like a collection of moments and scenes we had seen before. There was no new angle.
But things we’ve seen before isn’t always a bad thing and the show is genuinely so fun, so energetic and so enjoyable it’s easy to forgive it’s use of film and TV war tropes. SAS Rogue Heroes is a programme that reminds you of a time when TV was expensive, daring and bonkers. A time when TV was really good.
Baby Reindeer
Richard Gadd's utterly absorbing series earns its plaudits through outstanding performances, astute direction, and painstaking analysis of the trauma which shapes its characters.
Available on Netflix
It’s a little late for me to be waxing lyrical about Baby Reindeer, given that it bagged six Emmys at the end of last week. Alas, it’d be wrong of me not to after finally getting round to watching the Netflix sensation.
This seven-part adaptation of Richard Gadd’s award-winning one-man show, based on his own experience of being harassed by a female stalker, deserves all of the acclaim that has been bestowed upon it. As well as being one of the most nerve-racking viewing experiences I’ve endured for some time, it is an incredibly layered show that examines its subject matter in a painstaking amount of detail.
Jessica Gunning’s outstanding performance as Martha, Gadd’s disturbed pursuer, ensures that viewers can fully empathise with the ordeal of being stalked. However, it is Baby Reindeer’s thoughtful analysis of the trauma that shapes its central characters that elevates it. To speak too much of that would risk spoiling the show for the few readers who have yet to see it, but Gadd’s writing is certainly impressive, especially given that it is his own real-life anguish that is mostly being documented.
With Weronika Tofilska and and Josephine Bornebusch also providing astute direction, Baby Reindeer is undoubtedly one of the year’s most essential shows, an utterly absorbing affair that forces you to look beyond its surface level and consider the malignant forces which compel people to behave desperately. While its premise elicits memories of films such as Rob Reiner’s Misery, this is a decidedly more complex affair that rightfully puts both Gunning and Gadd on the map.
Colin from Accounts (Season 2)
Harriet Dyer and Patrick Brammall avoid ‘difficult second album’ syndrome and deliver a sophomore season that is equally as impressive as its predecessor
Available on BBC iPlayer
If you loved the first season of Harriet Dyer and Patrick Brammall’s hit series as much as I did, then you’d be forgiven for approaching its long-awaited return with an equal amount of excitement and trepidation. The ‘difficult second album’ is a curse that has befallen many shows over the years, and it’s therefore only natural to fear that a similar fate might befall Colin from Accounts.
Thankfully, Dyer and Brammall deftly navigate any potential pitfalls and deliver a sophomore season that is, at the very least, equally as impressive as its predecessor. While Gordon (Brammall) and Ashley (Dyer) are every bit as neurotic as they were previously, this season sees their relationship evolve as it transitions from the choppy waters of the so-called ‘honeymoon phase’ to some of life’s more profound milestones.
Once again, the strength of Colin from Accounts lies in its appreciation of the complexity of human relationships, be they romantic, platonic, familial, or human-canine. There are moments in this second season which are almost shockingly heartrending - particularly those that focus on grief - and there are others, such as Kevin Bacon’s unexpected cameo, that are side-splittingly funny, a juxtaposition which neatly demonstrate the show’s understanding of the absurdity of life.
With another expertly delivered cliffhanger ending in the bag, it would seem that there is plenty of life left in this most unexpected of televisual triumphs and, on this evidence, there’ll be no need for nerves next time around.
Terminator Zero
Netflix's latest anime series breathes new life into an iconic franchise.
Available on Netflix
The Terminator franchise has laid dormant since 2015’s Genisys, a film that was atrocious enough to be considered the death knell for James Cameron and Gale Anne Hurd’s once great series. Thankfully, Netflix’s burgeoning propensity for creating stellar anime series has breathed life into a tale that feels uniquely suited to our times, given its prophetic focus on the rise of artificial intelligence and the potential existential threat it poses to humanity.
Developed by Mattson Tomlin, Terminator Zero is free of the baggage associated with its live action predecessors (namely, Arnold Schwarzenegger and his iconic-but-wearisome catchphrases) but nonetheless serves as an adroit continuation of their legacies. Tomlin’s focus is predominantly on technology and how its differing usages elicit contrasting emotional reactions from those who are confronted by it. Similarly, the series posits the question of whether it is actually us who pose a greater threat to the planet than our robot counterparts, eliciting memories of the early seasons of Jonathan Nolan and Lisa Joy’s Westworld while doing so.
Like much of Netflix’s recent anime series, the show is also gorgeously animated and well performed by a voice cast that includes a number of household names. Although its connection to prior Terminator films means that some of its plot points occasionally feel rehashed, the new terrain the show inhabits, coupled with its well-considered narrative, means this is a highly rewarding watch for long-term fans and newbies alike.
Mary & George
D.C. Moore’s delightfully lewd Jacobean era drama is one of the most exquisitely performed shows of the year.
Available on NOW TV and Sky Atlantic
D.C. Moore’s delightfully lewd Mary & George provides plenty of the political machinations that were absent from the third and final season of The Great, another show we recently reviewed which examines an outsider’s improbable rise to power. That being said, the ascension of Mary Villiers and her son George to the inner circle of the Jacobean monarch James VI and I is a decidedly crasser tale than that of Catherine the Great, which perhaps renders the comparison null and void.
Nonetheless, history buffs are sure to either revel or recoil at Moore’s creative adaptation of Benjamin Wooley’s book The King’s Assassin, which recounts how the titular characters of this series manipulated their King to enhance their standing within society. In the case of George, here played by The Idea of You heart-throb Nicholas Galitzine, this entailed an illicit affair with James that allegedly played a determining role in him becoming the 1st Duke of Buckingham.
However, the driving force behind that quasi-coup was Mary, who is brought to life via a typically show-stealing turn from Julianne Moore. The presence of the Academy Award-winning actor definitely gives Mary & George a prestige drama vibe that it perhaps would not otherwise have, although there are some superb performers amongst its supporting cast, including Tony Curran, Mark O’Halloran, Adrian Rawlins, and the always excellent Niamh Algar.
Admittedly, the incessant bonking and backstabbing that characterises Mary & George does begin to feel a tad repetitive by the time we reach its endpoint, but it always remains an aesthetic triumph and one of the most well-acted shows of the year.
The Responder (Season 2)
Tony Schumacher’s dark and impeccably performed police drama continues to frustratingly deal with challenging themes in broad strokes.
Available on BBC iPlayer
The second season of Tony Schumacher’s dark police drama The Responder sees the former Merseyside Police officer continue to tackle some challenging themes, albeit in broad strokes.
Martin Freeman once again impresses as the series’ morally compromised protagonist Chris, although his character is frustratingly impossible to differentiate from the angry, self-destructive iteration we grew used to in its debut outing. Therein lies the problem for Schumacher’s show, which admirably attempts to shine a light on the hardships endured by Liverpool’s working class while also being the sort of high octane, unpredictable thriller that typically draws in large audiences.
Without doubt, The Responder is most interesting when it is focused on the former. Subsequently, the most absorbing character arcs in this season are those of Rachel (Adelayo Adebayo) and Marco (Josh Finan). Adebayo’s depiction of a young woman coming to terms with her experience of domestic abuse is often powerful, while Finan delivers a promising turn as an unequipped single parent that is desperately trying to kick his bad habits to the curb. Sadly, such depth is seldom seen and much of the show is focused on Chris’ implausible one-man crusade to save the city’s unfortunates from the machinations of its drug-dealing antagonists.
If you’re anything like me, you’ll find The Responder’s frequent, logic-defying plot holes hard to ignore, but those that can will doubtlessly be entertained by a show that is, at the very least, impeccably performed.
Batman: Caped Crusader
Bruce Timm's return to Gotham City is a rewardingly nostalgic watch.
Available on Amazon Prime
If, like me, you were a 90s kid and have fond memories of watching Batman: The Animated Series while growing up, you’ll more than likely enjoy the Caped Crusader’s latest small screen outing, which sees Bruce Timm make a triumphant return to the format that made him a household name among nerds the world over. With J.J. Abrams’ Bad Robot Productions and The Batman director Matt Reeves also involved, Batman: Caped Crusader feels as if it has been certified fresh before its opening credits have even stopped rolling.
Thankfully, that notion holds true throughout the majority of this debut season’s 10 episodes, which offer a noir-inspired take on Batman that is not dissimilar to the live-action version that the aforementioned Reeves introduced in 2022, albeit one that is understandably nowhere near as violent. Although Hamish Linklater’s performance as the Dark Knight is a little nondescript, the quality of the animation, coupled with the show’s serialised storytelling and mostly mature themes, ensure this is a rewardingly nostalgic watch that crucially leaves you wanting more.
The Great (Season 3)
The third and final season of Tony McNamara’s political satire falls flat, despite the best efforts of its stars.
Available on Channel 4
The third and final season of Tony McNamara’s adaptation of his own play about the life and times of Catherine the Great is beset with the same issues that made its sophomore outing only a fitfully entertaining watch. While Elle Fanning and Nicholas Hoult continue to serve up two stellar leading performances, their supporting cast are hindered by a sluggish story arc that means their character’s motivations are scarcely any different from what they were at the show’s onset. This is problematic and means The Great’s swansong is mostly a rehash of its greatest hits, that being a sardonic and, for the most part, wildly inaccurate recounting of history.
While this season mostly has the misfortune of being a political satire that is devoid of any genuinely unforeseen machinations, it does contain a shocking character death in the build-up to its final act. To reveal the identity of the felled individual would be to spoil the surprise, but it does leave a rather noticeable void that is only partly filled by a dexterous turn from Fanning, who seemingly grows in stature while everything around her wilts.
McNamara’s work with Yorgos Lanthimos on both The Favourite and Poor Things is ample evidence of his writing prowess, but here he sadly fails to evolve what was once an intriguing and humorous tale.
Abbott Elementary (Season 3)
Despite signs of fatigue, Quinta Brunson’s hit remains an easy show to love.
Available on Disney+
The third season of Quinta Brunson’s sweet-hearted hit is perhaps the first time it has shown signs of being fatigued, with some of its episodes feeling like a tad repetitive. Likewise, some of Abbott Elementary’s genial characters could be construed as being underdeveloped at this point in the show’s lifespan, with the quips of fan favourite Ava (Janelle James) not hitting as hard this time around.
Still, at its essence, this remains an easy show to love. Brunson undeniably possesses the gift that all great comedy writers have, that being the ability to make her audience laugh and cry in equal measure. Only viewers with a heart made of granite could deny the uncomplicated appeal of an episode such as ‘Mother’s Day’, where Gregory (Tyler James Williams) and Barbara (Sheryl Lee Ralph) bond over their grief for their late mothers, or the charming silliness of the penultimate ‘Smith Playground’.
That is because Brunson is fundamentally telling a story about ordinary, hard-working people that get a kick out of helping pave a better future for their students. In a world that often seems exhaustingly cynical, it’s an easy story to buy into. That’s without mentioning the series’ explosive finale, which finally delivers on something the show has been teasing from its very beginning.
Supacell
An ingenious premise and impressive performances from a fresh cast is enough for Rapman’s latest project to just about fend off superhero fatigue.
Available on Netflix
The latest project from Rapman, the British rapper turned writer-director, attempts to tackle the superhero fatigue that has coincided with the marked decline in the quality of DC and Marvel’s cinematic output. Its ingenious premise centres on five unrelated and seemingly ordinary South Londoners who discover that they have superhuman abilities on account of their respective family’s history of sickle cell disease, an ailment which is common among people of African origin. Before long, they are teaming up à la the Avengers to thwart a shady organisation that is seeking to control them and others like them.
Whether Supacell entirely achieves its perceived mission statement is a matter of personal taste. Personally, I enjoyed the show most when it focused on the respective arcs of its five main characters, which are all grounded in believable motivations and characterised by strong performances from a relatively obscure cast. There’s also a lot to admire about the way in which Rapman embraces his project’s geographical setting through a strong soundtrack and supporting roles for peers such as Digga D and Ghetts, the latter of whom is particularly impressive as one of the show’s chief antagonists.
However, like so many of its genre bedfellows, Supacell grows less and less interesting the more it embraces its fantastical elements. In particular, its finale is brimming with the sort of nonsensical character choices that are so synonymous with superhero properties, not to mention a whole bunch of garish CGI effects.
Still, the strong performances of its cast - especially that of Tosin Cole - and relatively modest runtime of six one-hour episodes suggests there is mileage for at least another season, which would be a great achievement for one of the UK’s most promising storytellers.
Iwájú
This effervescent animated series offers hope of a brave new frontier for short-form storytelling
Available on Disney+
This intriguing animated series is the result of a collaboration between Walt Disney Animation Studios and Kugali Media. The latter is a British-based company founded by African artists, who deviated from their original mission statement of ‘kicking Disney’s arse’ to co-create this charming tale about Tola (Simisola Gbadamosi) and Kole (Siji Soetan), two friends living on opposite sides of the wealth divide in a futuristic iteration of Lagos.
Although ostensibly a children’s show, Iwájú has enough of a social conscience to resonate with older and younger viewers alike. The wealth inequality that is sadly commonplace in countries such as Nigeria is shown cleverly not just through the respective arcs of Tola and Kole, but also the series’ antagonist Bode (Femi Branch) and Lagos’ contrasting mainland and island areas. Also of note is the show’s admirable use of the Yoruba language, which lends it its name of ‘the future’.
While the pacing of Iwájú’s narrative isn’t exactly a break from convention, the effervescence of its overall vibe and the innovative nature of the creative partnership that brought it life distinguishes it as something of a brave new frontier for short-form storytelling.
The Bear (Season 3)
Christopher Storer’s culinary drama has its Kid A moment via a fitfully rewarding third season.
Available on Disney+
Few shows have pervaded public consciousness as quickly as Christopher Storer’s The Bear, with its exquisite performances and razor-sharp dialogue making it easy for audiences to emotionally invest in the trials and tribulations of the chaotic Berzatto family. Subsequently, expectations are high for this third season, which was reportedly filmed back-to-back with its pending fourth installment.
It’s surprising to find that Storer has made the ballsy decision of concocting a third course that is perhaps best likened to Radiohead’s Kid A, an album which saw the English rockers follow a career-defining and radio-friendly album with 50 minutes of experimental and, in some cases, lyricless tracks. While that proved to be a creative decision that gave the band greater creative license in the long term, it left plenty of listeners scratching their heads and alienated some of their earlier fans.
Whether The Bear treads a similar path remains to be seen, but there is an undeniably different feel to this season, which begins with the challenging ‘Tomorrow’, an abstract collage of Carmen’s formative years as a chef. As well as showcasing Storer’s increasing willingness to tinker with the structural convention of his show, this opener makes it abundantly clear that Carmen and, by extension, Jeremy Allen White remains its most vital component.
The issue with that is that it’s debatable whether Carmen’s relentless and self-destructive quest for culinary perfection is The Bear’s most interesting narrative through line. It’s certainly easier to root for less self-absorbed characters like Marcus (Lionel Boyce), Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), and Sydney (Ayo Edebiri), whose respective arcs are frustratingly sidelined for the most part. That and the fact that the two standout episodes of this season (‘Napkins’ and ‘Ice Chips’) are Carmen-free-zones might suggest an awkward future lies ahead.
Nonetheless, when The Bear is good it remains one of the best series around. The aforementioned episodes (particularly the latter, which features an outstanding guest appearance from Jamie Lee Curtis) genuinely made me weep, and see Storer continue his penchant for admirably probing the human condition. Subsequently, viewers will find it easy enough to persevere through the more meandering elements of this season, although virtually all will be expecting a greater dramatic pay-off next time around.
Kin (Season 2)
This superbly performed Dublin crime series continues to be engaging, tension-inducing, and mostly rewarding viewing.
Available on BBC iPlayer
What Peter McKenna and Ciaran Donnelly’s Kin lacks in originality, it makes up for in entertainment. This sophomore season picks up shortly after its predecessor’s bloody finale, which saw the Kinsellas overcome the odds in their gangland war against Ciarán Hinds’ antagonist. Predictably, the sweet smell of success doesn’t permeate their corner of Dublin for long and new threats emerge, initially in the form of Öykü Karayel’s Turkish mob and then, more pressingly, the return of unhinged family patriarch Brendan (Francis Magee).
Once again, Charlie Cox and Clare Dunne excel as Michael and Amanda respectively, whose clandestine union continues to be key to staving off their family’s destruction. In particular, Dunne is impressive in a role which juxtaposes genre convention, albeit in a way that is far from groundbreaking. Aidan Gillen and Maria Doyle Kennedy’s roles are also elevated in this series due to the presence of Magee’s frightening villain, who proves to be the source of their previously unreferenced childhood trauma.
While anyone who has seen crime staples such as The Godfather trilogy will find it relatively easy to foresee Kin’s various twists and turns, the performance of a stellar cast ensures it always remains engaging, tension-inducing, and mostly rewarding viewing.
Doctor Who (Season 1)
Ncuti Gatwa and Millie Gibson shine as Doctor Who gets off to a totally fresh start with this exciting new reboot.
Available on BBC iPlayer
After an explosive set of anniversary specials last year, Doctor Who’s huge reboot has officially kicked off. Ncuti Gatwa and Millie Gibson are the new faces of the show and Russell T Davies is at the helm for this historic partnership between the BBC and Disney+. As such, this freshly regenerated iteration of the programme promised to capture the hearts of modern audiences and remain faithful to what came before. Anyone could tell you that a lot was riding on this season to be a success and, whilst some may lead you to believe that this hasn’t been the case, I thoroughly enjoyed this outing for the new TARDIS team.
The biggest reason for this run of episodes being so much fun is that no story feels the same. For a show like Doctor Who, this has been sorely needed for the past few years. It is incredibly refreshing that this season has delivered something totally different each week.
We open with a fairly standard sci-fi adventure in Space Babies, an episode that, whilst flawed, still has a fun premise and enough good humour to keep me engaged. However, we then take a sharp left turn into possibly the strongest three episode run I have seen from the programme. The Devil’s Chord is a musical romp with a villain so extra that they make the Kandyman look like Hannibal Lecter. Jinx Monsoon shines as the devious Maestro and the musical number featured at the end of the episode perfectly sums up just how crazy Doctor Who should be.
Steven Moffat then makes his return with Boom, a Hitchcock-esque episode where the Doctor spends the majority of the story stuck on a landmine. This is then followed by the Doctorless 73 Yards, which is almost indescribable in its atmosphere and mystery. Millie Gibson pulls out all the stops with her performance here, and Davies’ enigmatic adventure unfolds in the most stunning way, with pitch perfect direction from Dylan Holmes Williams. These episodes being back to back with each other is the perfect example of how varied the Whoniverse can be, and why this will always be its strongest attribute.
I must also mention how much of a great pair Gatwa and Gibson are. Whilst the latter’s character is unfortunately written as more of a mystery box than a properly fleshed out human being, the performance makes her more interesting than she would be had she been played by someone less energetic. Meanwhile, Gatwa is possibly the best modern Doctor and remains the strongest performer in almost every episode. Their dynamic together is totally electric and I can absolutely see them becoming an all time favourite Who duo. The guest stars this time round are also some of the best we’ve had in ages. Jonathan Groff’s Rogue is a fantastic alien bounty hunter who I hope we haven’t seen the last of, whilst Verada Sethu also makes her fantastic debut ahead of her companion role next year. The returning Bonnie Langford also gets to have a lot of fun in the finale, as Mel becomes a proper part of the team for the latter half of the story.
The finale itself I think is where the ball is dropped slightly, which is becoming commonplace for a RTD run of Who. Whilst The Legend of Ruby Sunday offers up a truly amazing cliff-hanger with the return of classic Who villain Sutekh the Destroyer, the preceding 40 minutes are spent with the main characters in UNIT HQ essentially discussing fan theories about the identity of Susan Triad (whose mysterious appearances unfortunately lead to the most underwhelming conclusion). The second part of the story, Empire of Death, is one that took me a couple of watches to eventually come round on. It is, for lack of a better term, quite wishy-washy with is answers to the various threads that have been woven throughout the series, but the character work and brilliantly exciting set-pieces help to make the episode an incredibly enjoyable end to it all. I particularly appreciated the twist of Ruby’s mother just being a regular person.
As a fan, I’m incredibly happy with this set of adventures. Doctor Who has gotten off to a totally fresh start with this new reboot and I cannot wait to see where it continues to go next season.
The Dry (Season 2)
Nancy Harris’ sitcom about addiction and co-dependency remains a puzzlingly absorbing watch.
Available on ITVX
The second series of Nancy Harris’ sitcom about the attempts of a recovering alcoholic (Roisin Gallagher) to stay sober while amidst the everyday chaos of her toxic family is as puzzling a watch as the first. This is because The Dry, despite almost all of its characters being contemptibly self-absorbed, is most often an absorbing and entertaining watch, one that causes you to go against your better judgement and emotionally invest in its interconnected narratives.
That is largely due to the strengths of Harris’ writing and the performance of a talented ensemble cast. With regards to the former, her dialogue is, in typical Irish fashion, often very humorous, although it is the treatment of the series’ subject matter and subsequent depiction of its characters which warrants greater merit. It is seldom easy to root for The Dry’s protagonists and this, whether deliberate or otherwise, is a creative decision which distinguishes it from many of its genre bedfellows and helps elicit an emotional reaction from viewers which may otherwise be lacking.
Indeed, this depiction of family trauma, although often amplified for comedic purposes, feels authentic because it seems to understand that people who have not achieved closure or, more commonly, do not understand that they are in pain, often are self-destructive and unknowingly abusive to those closest to them. We roll our eyes at Gallagher’s protagonist for her plethora of bad decisions, but know deep down that her unconscious co-dependency means that there is a plausibility to them.
While there are aspects of The Dry that are not easy to love, it is a show that remains steadfast in its commitment to delivering an honest portrayal of the human condition, and is thus deserving of credit.