In the two decades since it hit airwaves, Survivor has morphed from a “social experiment” into TV's most complex competition.
The initial narrative groundwork that’s laid out is intriguing, but rumblings of societal discontent receive mere lip service.
The show’s true resonance lies in its exploration of the Chosen One trope.
The series is formally playful, deftly balancing its absurdity with healthy doses of sincerity.
The series takes itself a touch too seriously to succeed as a farce but draws its characters too broadly to achieve any real pathos.
The series seems content to recreate the events of the case rather than explore them in any deeper psychological or thematic fashion.
Like the David Cronenberg film upon which it’s based, the show’s biggest strength is its stylish sense of dread.
The show’s mixture of comedy and fantastical nostalgia is as intoxicating as ever.
The series embodies the “this is fine” meme, exploring the desperate impulse to shrug your shoulders as the world burns around you.
The show’s fourth and final season finds it in full Shakespearean tragedy mode.
In its second season, the deliciously twisty thriller continues to draw much of its strength from its confident ambiguity.
Only sporadically does the series explore the absurdity of transposing online interactions to the physical realm.
The series returns to its original formula of silly plus tender, multiplied by wickedly smart.
Like its bristly protagonist, the series has some work to do to turn things around.
In spite of its best intentions, the show's reach ultimately exceeds its grasp.
The show’s second season may be watchable, but it’s so much louder about saying so much less.
With its heart caught between a daytime soap and a gritty superhero drama, the series never feels as potent or as focused as it could.