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When Craig Ferguson left CBS’ “The Late Late Show” in December 2014, fulfilling a pledge made public the previous April, it was assumed by some that it had something to do with not being offered the chair being vacated by his illustrious lead-in, David Letterman. (Stephen Colbert, you may be aware, was named the new “Late Show” host.) Others simply couldn’t believe anyone would just walk away from such a job, which Ferguson had held for two weeks shy of 10 years, because, even in the less prestigious 12:30 time slot it seemed like a prize — but mostly because he was so good at it.

“That’s one of the odd things about that particular genre of television,” he told me in 2016. “The minute I started at 12:30, the question became when and do you want and how are you going to get 11:30? But I never wanted 12:30, never mind 11:30. Why is that a thing?”

Ferguson went on to other things. He’s hosted game shows (currently the CW’s “Scrabble,” with puckish energy); toured as a stand-up (he’s on the road into June); hosted a history-themed panel show, “Craig Ferguson: Join or Die”; launched “Joy, a Podcast,” which is as close as he’s come to the confessional freestyling of “The Late Late Show”; and published “Riding the Elephant: A Memoir of Altercations, Humiliations, Hallucinations & Observations.”

His latest show, premiering Saturday on CNN, is “American on Purpose,” which shares a title with his first memoir, a reference to the Scottish-born Ferguson becoming an American citizen. Timed generally to the 250th anniversary of the United States, it finds Ferguson in a five-episode crazy quilt of observations, interviews, inquiries, stunts, games and documentary vignettes forming a comical, but not unserious, somewhat wayward look at American ideas and ideals — freedom of speech, capitalism, patriotism, individualism and immigration. It’s a vision wide enough to include monster trucks, lowriders, underground comedy, Miami street art, Texas barbecue and haggis tacos, dreamed up by Ferguson and executed by celebrity chef Marcus Samuelsson.

Ferguson, a Scotsman, having haggis tacos on “American on Purpose.”

(CNN)

“You know me,” Ferguson said when we spoke over video call recently. “Less format is better for me always.”

His caveat to the producers was that he wouldn’t “make an anti-American show. I wouldn’t make a show pointing out everything that’s wrong. I feel that’s a market that’s heavily catered to. I’m not a f—ing idiot, I’m not making propaganda, I won’t make a jingoistic show. But I want to make a show which is celebratory,” Ferguson says. “And I want to be clear that the show I make for CNN will be the same as if I was making it for Fox News. It has to be my point of view, which is upbeat without being dumb — I hope. I feel like we got pretty close.” This conversation has been condensed and edited for clarity.

A good friend of mine, an Englishman, recently became an American citizen and had only wonderful things to say about the naturalization ceremony, the diversity of his fellow new Americans, and the graciousness of the people conducting it. What was your experience?

My ceremony was in Pomona fairgrounds in 2008. And I think it was 2,000 of us; I think it was 1,999 new Mexican Americans and one new Scottish American. And it was f—ing wonderful. And it is moving. I kind of wish it for my friends who are born here, American citizens, because you have to remove your everyday, “Oh my God, did you see the news today” cynicism, and remember what this place is about — freedom, second chances, third chances, escape, representation, individualism, different ideas coexisting in one country, wildly different points of view somehow managing to get along. That is f—ing beautiful. What I still feel as an immigrant American is a certain gratitude that doesn’t leave you. I’m not blind to the faults of the United States. Show me a country that doesn’t have faults. We talk about the bloody past. Show me a country that doesn’t have a bloody past. Humans have a bloody past. I’m not saying there’s nothing wrong, but I’m not looking at that in this show. I’m looking at what makes me feel great about this place, and it is a great place, an aspirational place. To my mind, we are still the big foam finger number one. I don’t think there’s anyone can touch us for … unusualness. We’re really unusual.

It’s a very optimistic show. Is that how you feel personally about the future of the country, and humanity?

Like most people, I have my moods. I got a real boost of optimism [hanging out] with very clever academics who kind of guard the Declaration of Independence in Philadelphia. And you say to them, “People say the country’s never been this divided.” They always laugh. They laugh at the idea it’s never been as bad as this, the rhetoric has never been this hateful. They’re like, “It’s always been like this. It’s always been an argument. The whole point of this place is that it is an argument.” The guys who started this country, some of them hated each other with just as much venom and outrage and indignance as political players hate each other today. I find that quite encouraging. Like I said, I’m not blind to the fact that there are issues and faults and deep things to worry about. But that’s not what this show’s about. It’s as if I was a musician, and I decided to write a happy song. People say, “Why aren’t you sad?” I’m like, “Well, I get that sometimes, but this song is a happy song, this is a rock song. I’ll do a power ballad later on.” It’s not terrible to to do something upbeat every now and again.

What did you discover in the course of making the show?

There were many things, actually. In L.A., I did a kind of run around with the guys who make the lowrider cars, and the community and the story of how that came about are really fascinating, a kind of parallel run of the rise of the automobile in America, but how it was taken on by the Mexican culture. Another that really stuck with me was in the Everglades, when I was with the Gladesman there, finding out that a large percentage of them [were descended from] displaced Scottish peasants, cleared out of the Highlands to make room for sheep for the landowners; they went to Canada, and they drifted all the way down to the southern tip of the United States. These guys there could trace their ancestry back to 100 miles from where I grew up. Americans would be kicked out of most of the countries of the world. So it makes us awesome. I mean, 40% of this country can trace themselves through Ellis Island, through that administration building in New York. That’s insane.

Ferguson at Venice Beach in a segment on the show.

(CNN)

When did you get interested in history?

In Scotland, we’re surrounded by it all the time. There’s a lot of stuff still lying around from a long time ago. American history became interesting to me because it was so attached to Scotland. The Scottish Enlightenment is really kind of the origin story of the Declaration of Independence. Knowing that the philosophy that was coming out of Edinburgh in the 1700s was directly feeding into what these guys were doing, it felt like the continuation of a certain strain of Scottish history. It didn’t end with “Highlander” or “Shrek.”

There’s a road movie element to the series. Do you take trips around the country on your own time?

All the time. I don’t think you can know the United States unless you’ve driven across it at least a couple of times. If you can take a car from New Orleans to Northeastern Maine, Florida to Washington state, it’s worth doing. One of the things that was in the engine for me when I started this [series] was, I’ve seen over the years a lot of — probably more in Britain than in America — lazy kind of pseudo-intellectual documentaries where somebody will say, “Well, you know, the thing about America is…” Well, which America are you talking about? And they will go and get some guy that lives on his boat in Fort Lauderdale with a hat that’s got “Who Farted?” written on it and tell you that’s America. That guy’s there and he’s awesome, but it’s not the whole story. You know what I mean? It’s like saying “Well, you know, Hitler was a vegetarian.” That’s true, he was. But it’s not really the whole f—ing story, is it?

“Pressure,” the new World War II movie from director Anthony Maras and writer David Haig, is a hyperfocused look at the days leading up to D-day with a special focus on the weather. It’s a one-setting thriller that unspools in the pressure-cooker environment of General Dwight D. Eisenhower’s war room at an English country estate. The movie works backward from a famous 1961 Eisenhower quip to JFK that attributed his success in Normandy, France, to the Allies having “better meteorologists than the Germans.”

If you’re skeptical about how exciting a movie about the weather on D-day might be, “Pressure” takes that as a creative challenge, an argumentative stance from which to start. For the next hour and 40 minutes, Maras and co-writer Haig, who also wrote the 2014 play from which the film is adapted, explain to us exactly how important the meteorologists of D-day were, beginning with the disastrous D-day rehearsal Exercise Tiger.

With the weather app at our fingertips these days, it can be hard to imagine just how difficult it was to forecast the weather in the 1940s, especially in Northern Europe. That was the predicament facing Eisenhower (Brendan Fraser) just 72 hours before the planned D-day launch of June 5, 1944. But we know that D-day happened on June 6, so the arrival at that date is part of the film’s narrative intrigue.

After a devastating glimpse of Exercise Tiger, red blood mixing with blue ocean waves and white sandy beaches, we’re quickly introduced to our protagonist, Group Capt. Chief Meteorologist James Stagg (Andrew Scott), in his cozy home with his pregnant wife before he’s swept into critical war planning.

He’s stern, terse and no-nonsense. Stagg is the kind of person who wants to be correct more than he wants to be liked and he insists on a careful collection of live data, using weather balloons, phone calls and mathematical charting. His foil is Col. Irving Krick (Chris Messina), a charming American meteorologist and Eisenhower’s chosen weather guru, a yes man who relies on selective historical data and a persuasive speaker whose approach rankles the fastidious Stagg. Eisenhower instructs the two men to come to an agreement and “Pressure” follows the ups and downs of their working relationship over the course of several days.

The movie becomes a two-hander between Scott’s Stagg and Fraser’s Eisenhower, the former convinced that a storm on June 5 will make conditions less than ideal, the latter raging at the uncertainty while simultaneously attempting to placate a phalanx of military personnel. The troops are requisitioned, the destroyers in place, the full moon just right, the secrecy of the invasion delicate. Fraser’s explosive performance underlines the immensity of the stakes, balancing every precarious element of this enormous mission.

Maras, who is known for another terrific one-setting thriller based on a true story, 2018’s “Hotel Mumbai,” both directs and edits and his films are put together like precision clockwork: propulsive and relentless, the pace italicized by Volker Bertelmann’s scores. “Pressure” is skillfully directed, sweeping us into this world with a kind of addictive immediacy, and is also beautifully lensed by cinematographer Jamie Ramsay. Maras and Ramsay make the wise choice to shoot the film with richly saturated color instead of the usual grayish, desaturated look often assigned to period pieces set in this era. It’s not gritty and harsh, but rather stunning and lovely — an eerie contrast to the terror and bloodshed of the day itself.

While Fraser delivers an external performance as the tough American general, Scott offers a restrained, mostly tamped-down depiction of the repressed and methodical Stagg. But when he finally bursts with a cathartic eleventh-hour speech about the inaccuracy of Krick’s historical forecast, Eisenhower listens. Scott, as seen in “All of Us Strangers” and “Blue Moon,” is so good at this kind of acting, processing every emotion internally but allowing just enough to show to let the audience into his character’s emotional state. It’s wildly compelling to watch.

In a quiet conversation with Eisenhower’s close confidant and aide, Kay Summersby (Kerry Condon), she jokes that weathermen are boring. Stagg reminds her that the weather itself isn’t. Weather feeds us, it can destroy us — it rules our existence, he says. “People ask, ‘When will the wind stop blowing?’ No one ever asks, ‘Why does the wind blow? What is the wind?,’ ” revealing himself as a sort of philosophical poet of the weather. His forecast was the crucial edge in D-day and the volatility of the weather is increasingly relevant in our lives, especially with our changing climate.

Boring? Never. Thrilling and history-making? Indeed.

Katie Walsh is a Tribune News Service film critic.

What do we have here? Some of my very favorite actors — Alfred Molina, Alfre Woodard, Clarke Peters and Geena Davis — starring in an eight-episode, B-grade sci-fi comedy-drama, “The Boroughs,” now streaming on Netflix.

Molina plays Sam Cooper, a retired engineer — that will be important — being brought grumbling to the Boroughs, a posh, city-sized retirement community plopped down in the middle of the Southwestern desert. Sam’s late wife, Lily (Jane Kaczmarek, in flashbacks and dreams), had planned the move, but she died suddenly, while they were dancing to Bruce Springsteen’s “Thunder Road,” which will become a kind of trigger and motif going forth. Still, fate — in the form of daughter Claire (Jena Malone) and son-in-law Neil (Rafael Casal) — has pushed him solo to the Boroughs and a house on a cul-de-sac. (Seen from above, the town is laid out in a series of concentric circles, as EPCOT was meant to be when Walt Disney was alive and it stood for Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow. That has no relation to this show; I’m just throwing it out to the fans.)

Before this happens, however, we get a preamble. Is that Dee Wallace, the mother from “E.T.: The Extraterrestrial,” as Grace, a former occupant of Sam’s new home? (Why, yes it is.) Grabbed one night by something clearly not human, she’ll leave the show before the first credit rolls; but we’ll know from the start that there’s a monster on the loose. And even before Sam has settled in, he’ll be attacked by her now-widowed husband, Edward (Ed Begley Jr.), who has escaped to his old house from the Manor — a memory care unit more reminiscent of something out of “Squid Game” than anywhere you’d want to park a beloved fading parent — muttering “The key is in the light, the owl is in the wall,” and thereby turning Sam detective.

The joint is run by young Blaine Shaw (Seth Numrich), who supposedly took it over from his father, who took it over from his father before him, with Hollywood-blond wife Anneliese (Alice Kremelberg) by his side. (It is perhaps no accident that we’re also served a background clip from “Double Indemnity,” featuring a blond Barbara Stanwyck.) They radiate a kind of vampiric smoothness, and it will take you no longer to realize that something’s up with these two than it takes to say “Something’s up with these two.”

Mired in grief, Sam is initially reluctant to interact with his new neighbors, until former weatherman Jack (Bill Pullman) breaks down his defenses. Judy Daniels (Woodard) used to be a reporter, her husband Art (Peters) is a pot-smoking old hippie who pretends to go golfing but heads off to a ghost town where he grows mushrooms, “searching for proof that there’s more to life than just knockin’ about and hangin’ out.” Wally Baker (Denis O’Hare) used to be a doctor, but now needs one. (It’s cancer, and terminal, though it doesn’t show.) They have complicated relationships, but there’s nothing better for ironing things out than creeping together through dark tunnels by flashlight, hoping that nothing jumps out at you, engaging in weightless banter as you go.

Davis plays Renee Joyce, a former music manager who came to the Boroughs to stay with her mother after Renee’s husband stole her money, and stuck around; I think she’s meant to be younger than the rest, but if you want to look up Davis’ age, I will wait here while you gasp in astonishment. She’ll hook up with friendly young security guard Paz Navarro (Carlos Miranda); he played drums in a band once, and they were both at Glastonbury in 2010 and love Barbra Streisand. (What are the odds?) He’ll have a lot to do when a Scooby Gang — that old, invaluable, incredibly satisfying trope — finally comes together.

The series was created by Jeffrey Addiss and Will Matthews, who were co-writers on the 2018 Henson Co. puppet epic “The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance,” from which they have imported a central plot device regarding vital essences and a magical matriarchal figure. (Called “Mother” there and here.) Their 2020 dying girlfriend film “Life in a Year,” directed by Mitja Okorn, has some thematic mirroring here, as well — death hovers over the story — and it seems probable that somewhere in the series’ gestation, they discussed Ron Howard’s 1985 science-fiction flick “Cocoon,” with its retirement home setting and senior-citizen heroes.

Sewn together from these and other scraps of previous paranormal adventure stories, “The Boroughs” is almost entirely predictable — not a criticism, in this context, since surprises in such a story are liable to bring bad news, and our affection for its heroes ought not to be sacrificed in the name of dramatic effect. That is not the kind of sacrifice the age needs, and this is not that kind of series. Nor is B-grade a pejorative, but rather an honorable tradition, especially when it comes to sci-fi and horror. (We’ll get a glimpse of Roger Corman’s original “Little Shop of Horrors” playing on a TV — cathode ray, of course.) Once you get on its wavering wavelength — sentimental, sincere, sweet, a little silly, not overly concerned with making perfect sense — and realize the show is not out to hurt you, it’s a very enjoyable watch.

SAN DIEGO — The Dodgers entered the late innings Monday in an unenviable position: trailing the Padres, whose biggest strength is their bullpen.

“When they have a lead they don’t relinquish it too often,” manager Dave Roberts said after the Dodgers’ 1-0 loss Monday. “You know the numbers — when they’re ahead in the seventh inning they don’t lose. You do have to be a little more aggressive and capitalize when you do get those chances.”

Including Monday, the Padres are 20-2 when leading after six innings, 21-1 when leading after seven, and they have a perfect 22-0 record when leading after eight.

Even when Padres closer Mason Miller got off to an uncharacteristically wild start in the ninth inning Monday, the Dodgers failed to capitalize.

He walked Freddie Freeman and Kyle Tucker on nine pitches. And the next three batters — Will Smith, Max Muncy and Andy Pages — all have proven their ability to do damage in clutch moments.

But it was Miller on the mound, a rare reliever who could actually challenge for the Cy Young Award.

“In this kind of series, you know you’re going to have close games,” Freeman said after the game. “And we just couldn’t get it done.”

Miller got out of the jam with a fly out, strikeout and ground ball, and notched his league-leading 15th save.

Shohei Ohtani dives back to first base in the fourth inning.

(Tony Ding / Ap Photo/tony Ding)

“We still had really good at-bats,” Freeman said. “There’s a silver lining to it. Scoring off Mason is going to be really hard to do. It’s going to take one of those kinds of innings where you can maybe walk a couple of guys and get a bloop. Not much squaring up going on against him.

“But we had an opportunity, maybe with him throwing a lot of pitches might make him be down next game. You just try to have little wins.”

The Dodgers could also avoid him by claiming a lead. On Monday, Dodgers starter Yoshinobu Yamamoto held the Padres to three hits and one run — Miguel Andujar’s first-inning homer.

But the Dodgers’ offense, which scored 31 runs in a three-game series against the Angels, only managed four hits off Padres starting pitcher Michael King, and only one in the first five innings.

“You’re trying to cover realistically 30 inches,” Freeman said. “Because you have ball-to-strike pitches — you’ve got backdoor sliders that are starting as balls coming back, you’ve got front-door sinkers for lefties. So it’s not just the whole plate you’re worried about; you’re going to worry about a whole lot of different things. … He had all of it working tonight.”

The Dodgers finally strung some hits together in the sixth. With two outs and Hyeseong Kim on first, Shohei Ohtani beat out a swinging bunt, and the throw from Padres catcher Rodolfo Duran zipped past first base.

Kim, who took off from first on contact, rounded third hard but slammed on the brakes when third base coach Dino Ebel held up the stop sign.

“It’s kind of the timing of it, where [Fernando] Tatis [Jr.] came up with the ball, and Dino’s got to make the decision,” Roberts said. “You don’t know that he’s not going to come up with it clean. At that point in time, to be quite honest, Dino had the best view of the runner coming in, Kim, and where they were at on the field. So it’s one of those things, I’m definitely not going to second guess it.”

Kim was stranded there.

Then in the eighth, he again made it to third on a single from Ohtani with two outs. And again, he got stuck 90 feet away from tying the score.

Dishing about what you’re reading is one of life’s greatest pleasures. Even better if your audience has read the same book. Reading with others also provides space to deepen community, ignite conversations and share moments of joy. Los Angeles needs that more than ever right now as we continue to shoulder a heavy 2025 marked by fires and ICE raids. But how to choose a book to get started? The best books to read in groups inspire a dialogue. They have sparkling prose and unshakable narratives. These were the guiding factors for compiling our recommendations for all kinds of readers.

We surveyed 200-plus luminaries in the book and journalism worlds to make this in-depth list. The voters included prizewinning authors, indie bookstore owners, a Man Booker Prize judge, Ivy League professors, literary agents, lauded journalists and several zealous book club members. To ensure an especially varied selection, the editors gave a final curatorial pass.

The list includes 10 categories for every type of reader, whether you reach for literary fiction or romance. We also crowned an “Ultimate Book Club Pick,” which is the title that received the most votes out of all the books by a landslide, and happens to be eerily prophetic (find it among the “Make-Believers” selections). Of course, we couldn’t include every worthy book. Let us know your picks and pull up a chair next to us. Why not read together?
— Sophia Kercher

If you buy books linked on our site, The Times may earn a commission from Bookshop.org, whose fees support independent bookstores.

Families, in their various flavors, have been essential to television since that light first flickered on. They may be ideal or nightmarish, or both, or in between, and we take to them — be they Waltons or Addamses or Simpsons — according to our own experience or desires, having known families of our own or wanted something other than what we had.

In “Schitt’s Creek,” Dan Levy co-created — with his father, Eugene, yet — one of the medium’s greatest family comedies. It was a show that grew over time from a basic premise about rich people who lose their money and are forced to live at close quarters in adjoining motel rooms to a paean to love, understanding and acceptance. It swept the comedy categories at the 2020 Emmys, including acting awards for both Levys, Catherine O’Hara and Annie Murphy and writing and directing trophies for Dan.

“To family” are in fact the last words spoken in the first season of “Bad Mistakes,” Levy’s noisy, funny new show, co-created with Rachel Sennott and now streaming on Netflix — though given what precedes it, it’s less a blessing than a curse. Levy plays Nicky, a pastor at a sparsely attended suburban New Jersey church of no evident denomination. He’s out as gay, but supposedly celibate; that he has a boyfriend, Tareq (Jacob Gutierrez), is known only to Tareq; this, of course, creates a secret, which will create pressure, which will create comedy.

Sister Morgan (Taylor Ortega) is an elementary school teacher, a job that doesn’t quite jibe with everything else we see about her — it’s barely represented, anyway, summer having come — and a very longtime boyfriend, Max (Jack Innanen), who has decided that now is the moment to propose. She had once tried acting in New York, which means that she lived a wilder life once and is something of an improviser. Their mother, Linda (Laurie Metcalf), who owns a hardware store, is running for mayor and the campaign is being managed by extra daughter Natalie (Abby Quinn).

The series begins as their grandmother is dying, and at Linda’s command, they rush out to buy her a present — Linda is trying to squeeze in an “early birthday” before her mother passes. And because she is that sort of person, Morgan shoplifts what she imagines is a cheap necklace from a convenience store. (Attendant Yusuf, played by Boran Kuzum, will have much to do.) The necklace isn’t cheap, it turns out, for no particularly good reason, and the convenience store isn’t just a convenience store, but a kind of waystation for stolen goods run by local Russian mobsters. As a result, Morgan and Nicky find themselves forced to run errands for them, under threat of death, or worse.

The show gets very complicated on its way to a circular semi-conclusion; there is a lot going on, with Linda’s mayoral ambitions and various relationship issues. (Elizabeth Perkins plays Max’s mother, bridging storylines.) But it’s a good ride, and classic in its way; searching the phrase “get mixed up with gangsters” brings forth a host of old comedies. Through the dodgiest situations, brother and sister do not hesitate to argue. Nicky would love to be anywhere else, while Morgan finds it invigorating. Though it is all improbable, the parts do mesh neatly; they make television sense.

Finally, the series rests on the shoulders of the three principal players, who are just a pleasure to watch; the camera obliges by moving in close. Levy brings a soft-spoken breathlessness you may recognize from his David Rose on “Schitt’s”; his softly muttered “OK,” which might just mean “stop talking,” is almost a trademark. Ortega brings a kind of poignance to her reborn wild child, while Metcalf plays Linda with a kind of small-town operatic intensity, eyes popped and pronunciation precise — she’s like a country cousin to O’Hara’s Moira Rose — as if she were onstage pitching to the back row of the theater.

Michelle Pfeiffer and Elle Fanning in “Margo’s Got Money Troubles,” premiering April 15, 2026 on Apple TV.

(Allyson Riggs/Courtesy of Apple)

In “Margo’s Got Money Problems, premiering Wednesday on Apple TV, Elle Fanning plays the title character, a college student flattered into bed by her married-with-children writing professor, Mark (Michael Angarano), despite my shouting at the screen for her not to do it. Soon she is pregnant, and soon after that the essentially single mother of baby Bodhi, unable to find work or the time to write. (As the heroine, we assume her talent.)

Presumably in search of some normalcy, Margo’s mother, Shyanne (Michelle Pfeiffer), a former good time girl — but still sparkly — has become engaged to Kenny (Greg Kinnear), Christian, square and sincere; the Ralph Bellamy of the piece, you are not asked to take him quite seriously (though Kinnear plays him straight). Shyanne’s ex-husband is Jinx, a former professional wrestler, played by Nick Offerman with the low-key affect of Ron Swanson, dialed down even further; depression and drug addiction will do that to you. Fresh out of rehab, he trades a championship belt for a motorcycle and joins the household; though he left Margo early, and unlike Shyanne, he proves to have a marvelous, easy way with Bodhi. (The baby himself, or babies — they use twins for this job — are themselves marvelous.)

Also in residence is roommate Susie (Thaddea Graham), a chirpy cosplayer — and coincidentally Jinx’s biggest fan — whose skills will become valuable as Margo, needing cash, sets off into the world of OnlyFans. First picking up tips describing followers’ penises in terms of Pokémon (no explanation has been thought necessary), she pivots to video, mounting increasingly elaborate sexy sci-fi productions alongside Susie (sets and costumes), Jinx (narrative advice, stunt coordinator) and OnlyFans veterans KC (Rico Nasty) and Rose (Lindsey Normington), a fabulous tag team to whom Margo turns for advice. (Margo does seem to take things over, but it’s her name in the title, so there you go.) This introduces an element of Mickey and Judy, my uncle’s got a barn, let’s put on a show comedy. More important, it creates a team, melding the family you make with the family you have.

It’s as sweet as can be. Apart from sleeping with one’s professor — students, do not do this! — the show is positive about just about everything: motherhood, daughterhood, professional wrestling, second chances, sex work, cosplaying and the way art shows up in strange places. Only Marcia Gay Harden, as Mark’s mother, Elizabeth, is an outright villain, and you will hate her.

The series was created by David E. Kelley (Mr. Michelle Pfeiffer), from Rufi Thorpe’s 2024 novel, once again under the umbrella of Nicole Kidman’s Blossom Films (following their collaborations on “Big Little Lies,” “Nine Perfect Strangers” and “Love & Death”), with its house style of well-upholstered capital-Q Quality (as distinct, in its pop-cult, way, from prestige). (Kidman has a small role as a wrestler-turned-lawyer and it’s been a while since I’ve seen her this well used.) “Margo’s Got Money Problems” can be terribly sentimental, almost corny — the climax is pure Hollywood — but undeniably effective. And if its mix of comedy and drama can be a little destabilizing, you won’t need to worry about where it ends up.