Koreans, at least the southern variety, might be the most romantic folks in the world. They are perennial romance-drama gold medallists in a competitive field, finding love wherever they look. And they find it again in Love Alarm , whose eight-episode first series is now binge-ready on Netflix. But there’s more to this young lovers’ starry-eyed heartstrings-puller than starry eyes and young love. True, there are a couple of straightforward-sounding, impossibly complicated and bitter love triangles. And, yes, girl loves boy, but new boy arrives who’s far too cool for school – literally – and the world falls off its axis. But, propelling such timeless problems is that curse of the modern world: the dating app. Surely within the capabilities of smartphone software already (if not actually out there), the Love Alarm pings with soppy heart-shaped graphics when someone within 10 metres loves (or at least has the hots for) the user. How handy, you might think, with everyone in the entire country falling under the spell of this infernal piece of kit. Not so independent-minded Kim Jo-jo (Kim So-hyun), who can address the whole dating malarkey on her own terms, thanks, and doesn’t need the mutual bleeping that comes with imaginary, overlapping Venn diagrams of desire. And anyway, she’s too busy concealing family secrets. The script and even soundtrack can be pure, melted cheese, but that shouldn’t obscure the pertinent questions Love Alarm addresses when it hits its stride: those of digital privacy, gay rights, how lovelorn victims of unrequited passion might be driven to suicide and how a small, usually black, oblong box can be everybody’s boss. All you need is love (alarm). The Deuce returns to HBO for its third and final series Different types of love, but especially lust, in all their multi-hued splendour come consumer-ready packaged in the eight-part, third and final series of The Deuce . Created by hard-boiled-television royalty George Pelecanos and David Simon (of The Wire fame), the show brings us right up to date for 1985, just as the miracle of VHS is helping to reinvent American culture, doubling as a medium for the production and distribution of pornography. Sex, lies and lots of videotapes make for a high-stakes drama of not just, er, high-quality artistic endeavour, but of corrupt police and even less benevolent criminal gangs. Times Square is gradually driving out the seedy fleshpots of old but the mobsters and grubby video stores are filling the gaps. The porn industry is drifting over to sunny California, but east coast or west, it can’t outrun the spectre of Aids and a booming drugs scene. Nevertheless, new technology is the big thing in the recently legalised pornography sector. “That’s where we live now, in everyone’s living room,” announces one industry big shot extolling the virtues of video cameras and cassette players. Candy Merrell (Maggie Gyllenhaal) wouldn’t disagree: the former New York prostitute is sticking to her quest to become a video director and porn entrepreneur, while twins Frankie and Vincent Martino (both played with his usual swagger by James Franco) sink deeper into their mob job of grabbing a piece of the porn action for the mafia. “The Deuce” refers to a stretch of West 42nd Street that, in the Golden Age of Porn depicted here, made Wan Chai look like Coney Island. Some miss it – although if you squint hard enough you can still see flickers. Says Vincent: “The Deuce is like a cockroach … gonna be here long after [we’re] gone.” The Deuce is back on Tuesday at 9am on HBO Go, with new episodes at the same time each week.