A concise disclaimer runs at the beginning of the new documentary The Pickup Game, premiering in New York on Nov. 8. “This documentary includes a number of ‘pickup’ techniques and strategies,” it reads. “These have been included for discussion and illustrative purposes only. The Producers and their affiliates do not endorse or approve of these messages in any way.” The Pickup Game is based on the controversial bestselling book by Neil Strauss called The Game.

That Back to Life kept being called “the next Fleabag” had to do, in part, with the fact that it was literally the next Fleabag. The series took over Fleabag’s time slot on the BBC when it premiered in the U.K. earlier this year. When Daisy Haggard’s half-hour comedy—though it’s as much a “comedy” as Fleabag was—premieres Sunday on Showtime, viewers in the U.S.

When comedian Shane Gillis was hired and then quickly fired by Saturday Night Live back in September, most of the conversation surrounded the anti-Asian slurs he had expressed on his podcast. But there was a lot more where that came from.

“Age is rarely kind to anyone. Nothing we can do about it. One just has to get on with it.” With that, so too does The Crown, the Netflix series dramatizing the lives of the royal family inside the gilded cage of Buckingham Palace. The third season of the award-winning drama arrives later this month—November 17—with an audacious gimmick.

I have not read any of Philip Pullman’s books, but a friend has told me the British author is known—and sometimes criticized—for his commitment to world-building. His Dark Materials, the new HBO series based on Pullman’s trilogy of the same name, clearly abridges the books and prefers to delve into ideas, relationships, and atmosphere in real time rather than history or background, to varying affect.

Like people, wildfires aren’t born coherent or fully formed. They rarely have one direction or one goal. Fires are fluid and disparate, made up of smaller blazes and embers, some of which might merge into irrational explosions or veer off in different directions. (Scientists have dubbed this odd meandering, not “fire movement” or “fire patterns,” but “fire behavior”). Today, Los Angeles, like Sonoma County, is on fire.

One of the finest segments in late-night television is “Between the Scenes,” an interstitial bit wherein The Daily Show’s Trevor Noah speaks candidly to his audience about a particular hot-button issue. And on Tuesday night, the comedian addressed the latest drama concerning rapper Kanye West, who’s positioned himself as a money-chasing prophet of sorts on his new Christian-tinged album (and accompanying IMAX film) Jesus Is King.

Over the weekend, Louis C.K. returned to the email inboxes of countless former fans who no doubt forgot that they still subscribed to the disgraced comic’s mailing list. An email announcing C.K.’s plans to go on tour, as well as to revive his long-defunct website, made the rounds on Sunday, nearly two years after he was accused of serial sexual misconduct in a damning New York Times story.

There are arguments to be made that The Morning Show is the biggest and most important series there is right now. There is its status as the flagship program from Apple TV+, ushering in a wave of new streaming services that will multiply the already untenable number of TV options to a paralyzing quantity—and what its success could mean for these untested waters of abundance.

It’s certainly not unusual for critics and the general public to have differing opinions about TV shows and movies. But it’s a whole other thing when a series like Watchmen gets near-uniform critical praise, with some going so far as to call it “one of the best pilots ever,” and earns a 98 percent fresh score from professional critics on Rotten Tomatoes, yet the site’s audience score comes in at less than half that, at 45 percent rotten.