My conclusion is that Mad Men is abstract, like some of the art in the series.
The revolution may be televised, but it is also going to be packaged and sold back to us.
For all the attention it receives and the level of cultural relevance it assumes House of Cards ought to be a much better series than its aggressive promotion makes it out to be.
At every turn I sense potential in The Americans, always untapped, for a smart sitcom.
On this show, thriving on caricature as it does, the chasm between Amy and Sheldon stops laughter long enough to suggest poignancy.
Each John Oliver monologue takes a different weighty and urgent political issue and deconstructs it with wit, clarity and moral purpose.
The men are portrayed as comically irrelevant — and this is refreshing given the phallocentric alpha-male angst that has been TV fodder so often before.
Louie is a difficult show to advertise because it is the only example of art-television at the moment.
I love Saturday Night Live as much as the next guy, but Kids In The Hall did much more with much less than Lorne Michael’s comedy fiefdom.
One of the most remarkable features of Cosmos — and possibly its greatest public service — has been its matter-of-fact, understated championing of the scientific method.