Alexander Larman

Apple TV+ may be struggling to break through into the streaming mainstream with more than a handful of their shows (as I’ve written before), but one categorical success is the British comedy-thriller Slow Horses, about to begin its fourth series on the service this week.   Because Apple has a vastly lower take-up for its subscriptions than Netflix or Amazon Prime, it remains a niche, cult show, rather than a much-discussed behemoth, and this suits its admirers down to the ground, who discuss its fidelity to Mick Herron’s brilliant series of novels with the kind of revivalist fervor usually seen at the Democratic National Convention.  From one clapped out old has-been to another.

Lovers of Jason Sudeikis, British soccer — that’ll be “football” to you — and undemanding, if surprisingly curse-laden, comedy-dramas, rejoice. The third season of Sudeikis’s hit comedy Ted Lasso ended last year, with what seemed to be a fairly definitive conclusion to the show. The eponymous Ted returned home after seeing his beloved AFC Richmond come second in the league, the club’s dastardly former owner Rupert (Anthony Head, the show’s MVP in my opinion) was defeated and comic sidekick-turned-villain Nate “the Great” was redeemed and welcomed back into the fold. There were, admittedly, a few curveballs and loose ends chucked in there, but it was hard to see where a fourth season could go.   It now looks as if we will find out.

After a fairly barren summer movies-wise (I’m just waiting for the Alien: Romulus backlash to begin, and will be only too pleased to join in with it), there are more promising movies coming our way this fall. Yet the one that’s attracted more attention and interest than possibly anything else this year, maybe even this decade, is the grand return of Francis Ford Coppola with Megalopolis, a self-funded, wildly ambitious folie de grandeur that premiered at this year’s Cannes Film Festival to predictably mixed reactions and an overall consensus that, alas, the one-time visionary genius of theater is no longer a force to be reckoned with, however loopily wild his latest (and, one reluctantly assumes, last) movie is.

And so House of the Dragon has come to the end of its second season. It is fair to say that, for all the intrigue and fruity British character actors on screen (first place as far as I’m concerned: the great Simon Russell Beale as Ser Simon Strong, “the only gentleman in an ungentlemanly world”), the series is still finding its feet and has yet to provide the visceral thrills that might be expected of it. As my esteemed colleague Matt McDonald described it, “the second season was basically all foreplay. The first season ended with ‘wow, they’re about to fight some dragons.’ Then this season ends after one dragon fight and the promise ‘oh wow, now they’re really going to fight some dragons.’” There are undoubted improvements in this more confident second outing.

It’s never nice to be wrong. Last November, with the unwanted superhero sequel The Marvels about to flop, the would-be series starter Eternals already unpopular and with Marvel’s hotly tipped next star Jonathan Majors on the verge of conviction for assaulting and harassing his ex-girlfriend, thereby imperiling the Kang Dynasty that he was supposed to star in, I — and, to be fair, many others — began to wonder if Marvel’s once-golden touch had begun to desert it. After all, since 2008’s Iron Man, there had been countless films, television series and other spin-offs from the studio; it seemed inevitable that audiences would eventually lose interest.

Last weekend’s opening of Twisters saw the windy picture receive both critical acclaim — although not in this magazine — and commercial success, blowing to a wildly impressive $81 million opening at the US box office. This was by no means a given for the tornado thriller, as the original film, although a smash hit when it opened in 1996, is largely unknown to the millennial audience who make up the majority of moviegoers who will flock to see a film as soon as it comes out; many of them were not even born when it was released. Instead, its appeal lies another way, in the casting of newly minted megastar Glen Powell in one of the lead roles.

It’s been an unusually good year on TV, and the Emmy nominations reflect a quality of both breadth and depth. The likes of Shogun, Slow Horses, Ripley and, of course, Baby Reindeer don’t come along very often, but for them all to be competing against one another is going to give Emmy voters quite the headache. Obviously it’s all but impossible to compare many of these shows; the genre-bending black comic horrors of Baby Reindeer simply aren’t more or less deserving than the elegant noirish depravity of Ripley, both of which are up for Best Limited Series, but the nature of awards is that one has to be accounted the winner, and Richard Gadd’s none-more-hyped show is likely to walk away with several awards, and deservedly so.