I’ve got an idea for television’s next comedy sensation: Quirky, attractive, primarily white singles kind of struggling — but more often drinking — in New York (read: Manhattan or Brooklyn, NOT the Bronx). Now, if this sounds like every sitcom or comedy-drama ever made, that’s because it is.


That there is healing power in art and song is probably not news to anyone. And it’s pointed out several times over the half hour. But “Song of Parkland” is more than that: It’s an ode to everything that’s special about high school drama programs, those joyful, formative, underfunded spaces.

"White Dragon"

It’s hard to mess up shooting in Hong Kong. To the cinematographers’ credit here, they don’t.


It really is embarrassing to watch these two suspiciously youthful-looking women attempt to imitate middle schoolers.

"Russian Doll"

Was it the drugs she took that night? Could her friend’s apartment be haunted?


They explain how much of Deion’s life centered around travel. We see Primetime shuttled around cities in everything from helicopters to limos. But most importantly, just as he was back then, he does not seem intimidated for a moment as he plops down on a chair to explain his life.


Much of what “I Am the Night” does well are the standards of dark mysteries. The show is very good at piecing together the classic images of noir — like a polished version of “Chinatown.”


“Black Monday,” however prescient it could be, never manages to say anything insightful about the decade beyond big hair, Marion Barry, denim and “Let’s Make a Deal.”


It’s understandable that a documentary about Ted Bundy will focus on Ted Bundy. But by now, thirty years after his execution, his story is not new.


With a lingering and intimate focus on its characters, from their darkest moments to their greatest highs, “High Maintenance”’s third season looks to be as profound and remarkable as its predecessors, and it’s only the beginning.