Here's the setup: a young but accomplished social-media maven is in over her head in the professional world where she finds herself in a major European capital (for the sake of argument, we'll pretend England is still part of the EU).
She has a complicated romantic life, and she wants to be successful — just not quite as much as she wants to enjoy herself. We follow her as she learns to navigate often overwhelming circumstances and how to stick up for herself — with a lot of help from some close friends.
Now, as the Hollywood Foreign Press Association announces nominees for the 78th Golden Globe Awards, try to guess which of these shows just received two nominations... If you picked the one from Sex and the City creator Darren Star, starring Phil Collins' daughter — who happens to be just as white as all the other nominees in her category — congratulations, you've clearly encountered Hollywood before.
Unlike Lily Collins, Michaela Coel of I May Destroy You wasn't born into privilege and the nepotism of the entertainment industry. The daughter of Ghanaian immigrants to London, Coel made her own success as a writer and actress with her acclaimed Netflix sitcom Chewing Gum before creating her groundbreaking drama for BBC One and HBO.
Of course this may all seem like an unfair comparison. After all, Lily Collins and Emily in Paris received nominations for both Best Series and Best Performance in the "Comedy or Musical" category (which somehow manages to feel even more dated than the rest of the award show nonsense), while I May Destroy You was relegated to the limited series category — with some admittedly strong competition from the likes of Small Axe, Unorthodox, and The Undoing.
The two shows weren't even being considered for the same category. Isn't this a game of apples and oranges?
On the other hand, while no one could reasonably call I May Destroy You a comedy, at times it manages to be so much more cuttingly funny than Emily in Paris's one-note rehashing of fish-out-of-water tropes. And the issue is only marginally better when examined more closely.
Did Emily in Paris truly deliver a better comedy experience in 2020 than Insecure, Bob's Burgers, Superstore, Upload, The Good Place, BoJack Horseman,Truth Seekers, Solar Opposites, Woke, Space Force, I Am Not Okay With This, or a dozen other shows that weren't nominated? Definitely not. It doesn't belong.
And in the Limited Series category, the exclusion of I May Destroy You casts an unflattering light on the nominees.
For all its charm, was The Queen's Gambit's thin story and clumsy handling of addiction — solved by a Black savior character — really more worthy of recognition? It was certainly more approachable. Was Anya Taylor-Joy's stolid performance more affecting than Coel's defiant struggle to rebuild herself, or was it bolstered by the shows incredible ratings and by her performance in Emma — for which she was also nominated?
And were Normal People's familiar star-crossed lovers or Mrs. America's effort to humanize a reactionary political icon more groundbreaking than Coel's unflinching exploration of trauma? Or did they perhaps have more backing from their production companies, or creators with more industry connections?
What's more important than picking out any of these competitors to compare unfavorably to what Michaela Coel achieved in I May Destroy You, is the reality that — despite some half-hearted attempts to respond to criticism in recent years, Hollywood awards shows continue to prop up a whitewashed and sterilized version of art and entertainment — perpetuating entrenched power structures and content that's digestible to a mass audience.
Whether or not you accept that I May Destroy You is a better show than the nominees in that category, there is still a problem. It's fundamentally a problem that a show as unambitious — as competently mediocre — as Emily in Paris can be honored with two nominations for one of the most prestigious awards in the industry, while a show that pushes the boundaries of what television can do receives none.
These two shows are merely the most obvious snub and the most baffling inclusion this year. But they are indicative of a broader issue.
The way the entertainment industry chooses to award one work over another is broken. It's entirely possible that Michaela Coel just got on the wrong side of some powerful people. Or maybe her show was too intense — and too Black, and too female — for the HFPA's taste.
Michaela Coel on Turning Down a Million Dollar Deal with Netflix | Edinburgh TV Festivalwww.youtube.com
Is the solution to change that tiny group of journalists who select nominees and winners — to introduce some younger, more diverse voices? Make them somehow less susceptible to industry influence? Or is it to change the categories so there is more room when there's too much competition — and perhaps less room when an embarrassing filler seems like the only option? The answer is less clear than the fact that there's a problem.
But considering the power of these awards — and even the nominations themselves — to grant shows renewed popularity, and lend cachet to their creators the least we can do is call it out when a deserving show from a young Black creator is overlooked, and when formulaic, familiar pabulum takes a spot it doesn't deserve.
The famed artist Banksy, who has remained anonymous for decades, is actually the actress Jameela Jamil.
For anyone who's confused: This is a joke Jamil made because she has been the subject of a great deal of conspiracy theories and online vitriol lately. She was accused of having Munchausen's, which is an illness that causes people to believe they're sick with disorders that they don't have. But Jamil clarified that she actually suffers from Ehlers Danlos syndrome, a disorder that affects connective tissues in the body.
— (@)
"Being gaslit over your health for entertainment is a very specific pain and trauma that a lot of people with Ehlers Danlos/invisible disability have to face every day from people who don't understand our vastly under-researched condition. And to what end? Who wins?" she wrote. "If I was an oil tycoon destroying the planet, or a serial sex offender I would maybe understand this vitriol and effort to target and harass me. But I'm just a mental health/eating disorder advocate actually taking the time to change public policy and legislation to protect kids."
— (@)
The Good Place star has become noteworthy on the Internet for her dedication to anti-diet-culture activism. She's also spoken about mental illness and her chronic health issues, but every time she speaks out, Internet users seem to take pleasure in attacking her.
Her boyfriend James Blake came to her defense today, speaking out about how he has personally witnessed his girlfriend's illnesses, which some Twitter users were questioning.
This week, The Good Place star and self-proclaimed "feminist-in-progress" Jameela Jamil received a great deal of backlash for being cast as a guest judge on Legendary, a new voguing competition show to be aired on HBO Max.
Voguing is a style of dance that rose in popularity from the Harlem ballroom/drag culture between the '60s and '80s, and it's since become a crucial aspect of black and Latinx LGBTQ+ culture and history. Some participants of ballroom culture also belong to "houses"—or shared residences with friends who become more like chosen family members—as many of them have been alienated from their biological families. All of this is to say that voguing, as popularized by the Madonna hit song and documentaries like Paris is Burning,is much more nuanced than just a bunch of fun dance moves.
It's great that many of the hosts and judges of Legendary, like Jamil, are people of color, but critics were quick to point out that Jamil was presumably straight, thus unfit to serve as a judge. She countered these arguments by coming out as queer.
"Twitter is brutal. This is why I never officially came out as queer," Jamil wrote. "I kept it low because I was scared of the pain of being accused of performative bandwagon jumping, over something that caused me a lot of confusion, fear and turmoil when I was a kid...It's also scary as an actor to openly admit your sexuality, especially when you're already a brown female in your thirties."
— (@)
Nobody, Jamil included, should ever be forced to come out–but accepting the role as a judge on Legendary without having publicized her queerness seems hypocritical. Last year, Jamil turned down a role to play a deaf character because, although she was born partially deaf, she has since regained her hearing. "It wouldn't be appropriate for me to take that role and they should find a brilliant deaf woman to play that role," Jamil explained. "I think you have to make those choices and not be too greedy and make space rather than take space...I don't want to be part of erasure."
Ballroom is an incredibly particular subculture of the LGBTQ+ community, and as Jamil even admitted in her statement, her being queer doesn't automatically qualify her for a judging position, because she's not a member of that specific community. Still, she took the job, despite being completely new to the ballroom scene; is that not erasure?
Hustlers star Trace Lysette, a trans woman who used to work as a dancer, shared her feelings about Jamil's casting on Twitter. "Lol.. I interviewed for this gig," Lysette wrote. "As the mother of a house for nearly a decade it's kind of mind blowing when ppl with no connection to our culture gets the gig. [sic] This is not shade towards Jameela, I love all that she stands for. If anything I question the decision makers."
— (@)
In Jamil's defense, she's made respectful endeavors in promoting inclusivity and gender equality; her secondary Instagram account, @i_weigh, celebrates body positivity, and she spent much of her time in the public eye as a persistent LGBTQ+ ally before coming out herself. But as many users have observed, the timing and circumstances of her coming out feel, unfortunately, like queerbaiting.
Are queer people in hetero-presenting relationships, like Jamil, valid? Absolutely. Is it fair to gatekeep within the queer community, questioning whether or not somebody is "gay enough?" Absolutely not. But for Jamil, in her relentless pursuit of divine wokeness, to denounce erasure of marginalized voices only to end up doing just that? It's incredibly disappointing.
Thanks to streaming platforms like Netflix and Hulu, it was suddenly possible to watch multiple episodes of a single TV series in one sitting without the interruptions of commercials. As the way we watched TV changed, so too did the kind of shows we watched. Gone was the overabundance of vapid, sugary-sweet sitcoms, and in came the era of political satire, dramatic comedies, and searing commentaries on everything from abortion to Hollywood. Summarily, the 2010s saw a golden age of television. Here are our 50 favorites, with the top 25 and bottom 25 listed in alphabetical order.
The Top 25 TV Shows of the 2010s
Atlanta
Atlanta first aired in 2016, with Donald Glover's Earn learning that his cousin Alfred has released a hit song under the stage name Paper Boi. Since then, the show has followed Earn's struggle to navigate different worlds as he takes over managing his cousin's burgeoning music career while also trying to be a good father to his daughter, Lottie, and to prove himself to Van, his ex-girlfriend and Lottie's mother. The show uses varying perspectives to flesh out the city of Atlanta and the complexities of being black in America with surreal touches that highlight the real-world absurdity. Yet despite the heaviness of much of its subject matter, it frequently manages to be among the funniest shows on TV.
Barry
For anyone who ever wondered whether or not SNL-alum Bill Hader could carry a serious TV show, Barry answers with an overwhelming "yes." To be clear, Barry is technically a dark comedy, or perhaps a crime comedy-drama, but Bill Hader brings a level of unprecedented seriousness to his titular character that oftentimes makes the show feel like a straight tragedy.
Playing a hitman who wants to leave his life of crime behind in order to pursue a career in acting, Bill Hader imbues Barry with an earnestness that makes us as an audience truly want him to succeed. This likability serves to make Barry's violent acts all the more disturbing. Barry's greatest success is its ability to effortlessly fluctuate between the quirks of life as a struggling actor in LA and the violent inclinations of a man who murders for a living and can never really escape that truth. It's one of the best character studies currently on TV and is sure to cement Bill Hader as an extremely versatile A-list talent.
Baskets
Baskets premiered on FX in 2016, telling the story of Chip Baskets, an aspiring clown played by Zach Galifianakis, who is moving back to Bakersfield, California to live with his mother after a failed stint at clown school in Paris. Galfianakis' talent for melancholy slapstick makes the show by turns hilarious and touching, but it's his mother Christine Baskets—artfully portrayed by Louie Anderson—whose simple enthusiasm for small-town life makes the show one of the best of the decade. Watching Christine, Chip, and his twin brother Dale (also Galifianakis) heighten relatable family drama to exquisite absurdity never gets old.
Black Mirror
Nothing would be the same without Black Mirror. Though its later seasons have been inconsistent in quality, its earliest contributions were digital horror at its finest, with some of the episodes being downright visionary in terms of how accurately they predicted the near future. From the nostalgic visions of virtual afterlife in "San Junipero" to the eerie foresight of "Nosedive" and its digital ranking systems, Black Mirror made an indelible impact.
Bob's Burgers
Whatever you've heard about Family Guy or South Park, Bob's Burgers is the true successor to the golden age of The Simpsons. The Belcher family offers an update to The Simpsons' satirical view on middle class family life that reflects how America has changed since the 90s—slightly more urban, with less overt child abuse and a lot more economic precarity. And just as with the best seasons of The Simpsons, Bob's Burgers maintains a touching core of familial love and solidarity amid the absurd hijinks and veiled political commentary. Throw in the added value of the frequently hilarious, occasionally moving musical numbers, and Bob's Burgers easily secures a spot as one of the best shows of the decade.
Bojack Horseman
In terms of the quality of its writing, BoJack Horseman outdid itself season after season. What began as a parody of Hollywood's excesses quickly turned into a searing, and boundary-pushing meditation on depression, addiction, and what it means to change (or to be unable to). Increasingly self-aware and conscious of its hypocritical tendency to obsess over the misadventures of an evil but sympathetic celebrity, thereby glorifying them while criticizing them, BoJack Horseman is the political, devastating, timely, often hilarious show about an animated horse that none of us knew we needed. It's buoyed by the strength of its secondary characters, from the workaholic Princess Carolyn to asexual Todd to self-loathing Diane, and altogether the show takes deep-rooted fears that many share and refracts them in a funhouse mirror that's impossible to look away from.
Broad City
Ilana Glazer and Abbi Jacobson began producing an independent web series about their struggles to "make it" in New York City in 2009. Soon, Amy Poehler took interest in the series, and it moved to Comedy Central in 2014. The smash hit comedy was not only laugh-out-loud funny, but a beautiful portrait of a genuinely healthy, supportive female friendship—something TV has historically seen little of. Broad City can be credited for helping to usher in a new generation of female comedy creators and has become a cultural touchstone for millenials.
Catastrophe
Catastrophe, created and written by the show's stars, Rob Delaney and Sharon Horgan, is one of the realest, grossest, and funniest takes on love and the mess of life. Two people entering middle age meet and hit it off, they spend a reckless night together, and when she gets pregnant, they decide to make things work—not realizing how complicated that will be. It's a simple enough premise, but the cutting dialogue and the absurd comedy that plays out as two near-strangers build a life together make Catastrophe one of a kind.
Fargo
Anthology series like True Detective and American Horror Story can be really hit or miss, but in the three seasons that have aired on FX since 2014, Fargo has been consistently great. Maybe it has to do with the leisurely production schedule, the all-star cast, or the near-perfect movie that forms the basis for its tone, but whatever the cause, Fargo delivers murderous midwestern tragicomedy better than any show on TV—and nearly as well as the original. Season three, which followed the rivalry of the Stussy brothers—as played by Ewan McGregor—deserves a particular call-out, with season four due next year and featuring Chris Rock, Timothy Olyphant, and Jason Schwartzman.
Fleabag
Phoebe Waller-Bridge's stage-play-turned-two-season-TV masterpiece took the world by storm at the end of the 2010s. In the series, the viewer is made into the protagonist's (an unnamed woman played by Bridge) confidante as she uses sex to cope with grief and complicated family dynamics. As the show progresses, the closely protected inner life of the protagonist begins to reveal itself. Many consider the second season to be an essentially perfect season of television, in large part because of the hot priest (played by Andrew Scott). Fleabag is a funny, searing commentary on what it means to exist as a sexual, complicated being in a world with ever-changing expectations of women.
Grace and Frankie
70 is the new 30, or 20, or whatever arbitrary year of life we as a culture are deciding to glorify for no reason, because age is just a number. If you weren't aware that Jane Fonda glowed with money or that Lily Tomlin is our collective spiritual mother, then Grace and Frankie enlightened you. When two septuagenarian women are told that their husbands are gay and in love with each other, the best phase of their lives begins.
Haikyu!!
It's almost 2020, the world is upside down, and yes, an anime about high school volleyball is genuinely one of the best shows of the decade. Haikyu!!, literally "Volleyball" in Japanese, is about the trials and tribulations of the Karasuno High School Boys Volleyball Team. Unlike pretty much every other high school sports anime out there, Haikyu!! takes a relatively realistic approach to...well...high schoolers playing sports. In doing so, Haikyu!! translates the genuine passion that goes into high school sports and the real dynamics of teamwork, better than any other show I've ever seen.
The protagonist, Hinata, isn't a superpowered Volleyball God; he's an extremely short boy who can't reach the top of the net, but works his butt off because he loves the game. Likewise, all the other boys in Haikyu!! have realistic strengths and weaknesses (both on and off the court) that they work to overcome with help from their teammates. Haikyu!! is an exercise in wholesomeness––there are no villains, just other kids at other schools who love the same sport our boys do––and in a decade full of so much bitterness, it's a much needed dose of medicine.
Hunter x Hunter
For anyone who likes long-running shonen anime, Hunter x Hunter is, without a doubt, the pinnacle of the genre. While the original manga began publication in 1998, and a previous anime adaptation ran from 1999-2001, the 2011 adaptation re-started the series from scratch and, most importantly, covered the Chimaera Ant arc (or season––kind of––for you non-anime watchers).
The entirety of Hunter x Hunter is fantastic, featuring likeable protagonists, dastardly villains, and a brilliantly creative power system called "Nen." But there's a reason the Chimaera Ant arc is often considered the greatest shonen arc ever, and that's because it's a total deconstruction of the genre's tropes and conventions. Everything from the "always optimistic protagonist" to "the ultimate evil villain" is turned completely inside-out. The Chimaera Ant arc is intensely brutal and ultimately poignant, making us question the very nature of what makes us human.
Killing Eve
Phoebe Waller-Bridge can do no wrong, and even if she could and did, I'd probably still clap. The combination of Waller-Bridge's cutting wit and Sandra Oh and Jodie Comer's flawless performances makes for a TV show that never quite lets you find your balance before sending you spinning again. It's dark and surreal, while managing to still be deeply human.
Marvelous Mrs. Maisel
Being a professional stand-up comedienne is hard, but being Midge Maisel is wrapping chaos in a designer dress. Created by the fast-talking husband and wife behind Gilmore Girls, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel created a stage for Rachel Brosnahan to showcase her comedic timing and Alex Borstein to be a solid, deadpan pillar within Mrs. Maisel's world of quippy, fast-talking, energy. Also Michael Zegen (Joel) is dead cute.
Mob Psycho 100
While One Punch Man might be manga artist One's best known series (and is fantastic in its own right), his other series, Mob Psycho 100,is profound in a way quite unlike anything else I've seen. The show revolves around Mob, an awkward, unconfident middle school boy with god-like psychic powers. Any other shonen anime would use this premise as a gateway to epic battles (and there are a few, and their animation is absolutely incredible), but Mob Psycho 100 focuses far more on the coming-of-age angle instead.
See, Mob doesn't like his psychic powers because they make him feel weird. So instead of focusing on the one thing he's innately talented at but doesn't like, Mob tries to improve himself in the ways he actually cares about improving––making friends, talking to girls, working out with his school's Body Improvement Club. If anything, Mob's incredible psychic powers are a backdrop for the show's larger message––that no person, no matter what natural abilities they may have, is better than anyone else. Mob Psycho 100 shows that everyone has their own struggles, and that the only person you should ever hold yourself up in comparison to is the person you were yesterday.
The OA
Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij's labyrinthine show only ran for two seasons, but it managed to earn a cult following during that time. Deeply weird, profoundly earnest, and full to the brim with observations on the connections between the environment, parallel universes, and technology, the two seasons that we do have are irreplaceable and paradigm-shifting examples of what TV could become, if we let ourselves believe.
Orange Is the New Black
Piper Kerman's post-grad rebellious stage went from a felony to a cultural touchstone. As Netflix's most-watched original series, OITNB boasted a female-led cast and cutting commentary on race, class, and the industrial prison complex.
PEN15
Those who didn't have a gruelingly awkward middle school experience are, by scientific evidence, simply inhuman. Maya Erskine and Anna Konkle tell it best in Hulu original PEN15, which co-stars the real-life BFFs (who also wrote and executive produced together) as 13-year-olds. Here, there's no sugarcoating the calamities of tweenhood, whether they're as trivial as thongs and AIM messaging or as weighty as race identity. All delivered with Erskine and Konkle's razor-sharp wit, it's absolutely hysterical to anyone who's lived past the seventh grade.
Rick and Morty
"To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand Rick and Morty. The humour is extremely subtle, and without a solid grasp of theoretical physics most of the jokes will go over a typical viewer's head."
Okay, so first things first, we need to separate Rick and Morty from the Rick and Morty fandom. The Rick and Morty fandom is so annoying that memes making fun of them are barely distinguishable from the things they actually say. But, to be fair, Rick and Morty really is a great show full of smart writing, surprisingly deep characterization, and the exact kind of bizarre, abstract humor that lends itself perfectly to endless memes. No doubt, Rick and Morty will be the defining animated comedy of the 2010s.
Russian Doll
This tightly-wound and big-hearted thriller stars Natasha Lyonne as a jaded New Yorker who gets caught in a loop in time and has to relive the night of her 36th birthday party over and over again. A perfect blend of humor and seriousness, and riddled with quantum leaps and profound connections, it's as satisfying as it is provocative.
Shameless
We fell in love with the trainwreck family the Gallaghers when it debuted on Showtime in 2011. William H. Macy brought so much toxic charm to the abusive and neglectful father Frank Gallagher that we actually found him, if not likable, then good television. Emmy Rossum managed to cause tears and laughter within the same scene, and the entire cast was as impressive as their characters were appalling.
Shingeki no Kyojin (Attack on Titan)
After the first season of Attack on Titan premiered in 2013, it received so much hype that even people outside of the anime community were raving about it. The show featured an incredibly high-concept premise, following the last surviving humans as they tried to fight back against giant, man-eating monsters called Titans. Had Attack on Titan stuck to that premise, it would have been top-notch action-horror, albeit not necessarily one of the best shows of the decade.
But Attack on Titan turned out to be so much bigger than its initial premise. As the seasons progressed, Attack on Titan reshaped itself time and time again, leading viewers through an increasingly complex, expertly plotted narrative featuring some of the most compelling characters and intensely emotional moments that I've ever experienced in fiction. At its core, Attack on Titan is a deeply thematic contemplation on war, othering, and humanity's will to survive against impossible odds, alongside the moral sacrifices they oftentimes make to do so.
Shrill
It shouldn't be revolutionary for a show to feature a fat female lead, but it is. Shrill, the brilliant Hulu adaptation of Lindy West's memoir, Shrill: Notes from a Loud Woman, gave audiences a badly needed narrative about a woman who is actively seeking to change her life for the better, in ways that have nothing to do with her body. It's funny, it's heartfelt, and it shows a woman getting an abortion and finding it empowering. Woah. Hell yes.
Steven Universe
When Steven Universe first aired on Cartoon Network in 2013, it was a light-hearted and silly children's show with some super-powered action from the Crystal Gems and a lot of silly jokes from their sidekick—the childish titular character. Since then an entire galaxy has been fleshed out around the boardwalk of Beach City where much of the show takes place. Along with the alien gem creatures and their elaborate history, the show has introduced us to a cast of characters that have grown and changed—overcoming insecurities and facing complex questions of love and identity. While Steven matured and developed into a hero worthy of his last name, the show evolved to become one of the best of the decade.
Netflix comedy-bingers are being forced to diversify their comedy diets.
Despite the streaming platform's multi-million dollar deal to keep Friends, Netflix couldn't pull the same strings for the NBC classic The Office. Many fans took to Twitter to vent their dismay, while others praised the Lord, because maybe now people will stop basing their entire personalities on the show.
It's true; there are worthwhile shows other than The Office to fill the void of your empty, meaningless soul. Branch out and explore comedies old and the new! Find new friends through a fictional program! And finally, learn to let go when your imaginary friends outgrow you.
Mike Schur's Staples:
If you're truly an Office fan, then you will have checked out Mike Schur's other ingenious comedy projects. If not, then you're a fraud.
Parks and Recreation
This show is the obvious and safest choice to fill the The Office void in your life. With Parks and Rec, you won't miss the spectacular mockumentary format and the odd but lovable relationships that blossom in the workplace environment. Even better, the show is also set in the Middle of Nowhere, U.S.A. just like The Office!
Parks and Recreation: Chris Pratt Explains The Series In 30 Seconds | Entertainment Weeklywww.youtube.com
Runtime: 125 episodes of approximately 22 minutes.
The Good Place
Mike Schur debuted without his writing partner, Greg Daniels, as the only showrunner for The Good Place. The original sitcom king, Ted Danson, flourishes as the "architect" of the version of heaven Ellen Shellstrop (Kristen Bell) is accidentally placed in. Just when the show gets good, it gets better in ways one would never expect. Enjoy!
Runtime: 39 episodes of approximately 22 minutes. More episodes are coming.
An Oldie, But A Goodie:
Cheers!
Kids these days don't know about the Holy Grail of TV comedy. Ted Danson played the cultural phenomenon Sam Malone, a Red Sox relief pitcher who owned the bar, Cheers! This show practically founded the "will they, won't they" narrative with Sam's iconic on-and-off relationship with Diane (played by Shelley Long), a graduate psychology student turned barmaid. Cheers! became one of the first American sitcoms to explore love and loss while redefining the notion of family— it's simple and epic.
You'll never have to worry about Netflix originals disappearing off the platform. Choose one of their many original comedies to enjoy, and then petition after Netflix cancels it.
Grace and Frankie
Imagine, your husband of over 40 years takes you out to dinner with his longtime law partner and his partner's wife. You and the wife are hopeful and confident your husbands are going to announce their retirement. Instead, they tell their wives they are leaving them, for each other.
Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin shine as Grace and Frankie, the two wives in their '70s who have no one in their lives who understand their situation except each other. It's an absurd and hilarious effort to showcase the trials of aging women in the modern era, changing family dynamics, and sisterhood.
Grace and Frankie | Official Trailer [HD] | Netflixwww.youtube.com
Runtime: 65 episodes of a variation of 25-35 minutes. More episodes to come.
Big Mouth
You know that American Doll puberty book you read when you were 12? No? Does that only apply to women? Well, try to imagine a puberty book that came to life as an animated show starring John Mulaney and Nick Kroll. Are you intrigued? Are you already invested? I thought so. Also, Maya Rudolph voices the Hormone Monstress—I probably should've started with that.
Runtime: 21 episodes of a variation of 25-46 minutes. More episodes to come.
American Vandal
American Vandal took mockumentaries to a whole new level by deep diving into the world of high school investigative journalism. The show kicks off with the trial of Dylan Maxwell, a troubled high school senior, who is accused of vandalizing 27 vehicles with phallic images (dicks). The true crime satire showcases what it's really like to be a teen today, using social media to propel the story forward in a ridiculous fashion. Netflix may have cancelled the show after its second season, but American Vandal has already earned its cult status.
American Vandal | Official Trailer [HD] | Netflixwww.youtube.com
Runtime: 16 episodes of a variation of 25-42 minutes.
This year, TV killed. Literally. Between the final season of The Americans, the first of HBO's Barry, Killing Eve, and The Assassination of Gianni Versace, much blood was shed on the small screen at the hands of spies, hit men, assassins, and psychopaths. Atlanta and Succession took searing aim at American ambition, The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina and The Haunting of Hill House gave us the creeps, and The Good Place went to a very good place.
Here are the best TV Shows of 2018, according to Popdust staff:
The Good Place
Chosen by Rebecca Linde, Staff Writer
There exists in my memory a corner so devoted to TV moments that were either devastatingly meta or brain-freezingly clever that I've had to evict certain mathematical faculties and the names of several acquaintances to keep the space clear and untouched. Among them: The Wire's Nick Sobotka showing up for the first time in two seasons just to heckle Mayor Carcetti (that makes sense for his character!); Max Braverman name-dropping Friday Night Lights while talking to Michael B. Jordan's Alex, who was on Friday Night Lights; Andy Samberg saying, "Pizza? Now that's what I call a Taco!" Now, I may need to rent out an entirely new brain for the space required to house the meta-cleverness of The Good Place. Creator Mike Schur has consistently proven my theory that the best sitcoms have "head and heart:" jokes that are either so outlandish or so simple that they could only be written by incredibly smart people, and characters that genuinely care about one another. The show is constantly shifting its very premise while musing on the meaning of existence without missing a single joke or heartbeat. This season gave us two of the smartest moments on TV: Eleanor confronting her estranged mother with the perfect delivery of "No, Mom, ya basic," and whoever had the idea to spend most of an entire episode replacing each member of the core cast with a version of D'Arcy Carden's Janet as each character. It was a total delight that ended in a real, emotional turning point, and also unlocked a new secret for a successful sitcom: cast D'Arcy Carden in every role.
The Good Place Season 3 First Look Preview (HD)www.youtube.com
Barry
Chosen by Meg Hanson, Staff Writer
Despite telling Conan O'Brien that he forgot how to act while directing the first three episodes of HBO's Barry, Bill Hader is masterful as lead actor, director, and writer in the series. The first season follows Hader's character, a traumatized ex-marine, as he transitions from hitman-for-hire to bad LA actor in an effort to process his blocked emotions. With absurdly likeable criminals and infuriating civilians, Barry gives us Henry Winkler as a self-aggrandizing "acting coach" helming Barry's attempts to "find truth" in acting. The series balances on a razor edge between irony and empathy, levity and morbidity. Game of Thrones co-creator David Benioff even praised the series but remarked to Hader, "That was pretty dark."
Barry Season 1 Trailer | 'It's A Job' | Rotten Tomatoes TVwww.youtube.com
Barry
Chosen by Matt Clibanoff, Editorial Lead
Here's why Barry works: We live in an absurd time. Our president is a dementia-addled gameshow host. Russia are the bad guys again for some reason. The most powerful man in the world is a lazy-eyed, reptile phallus who amassed his wealth by... selling books? Nothing makes sense. 18 months ago, the White House Chief of Staff was a guy named Reince Priebus. THAT'S NOT EVEN A REAL FUCKING NAME. Barry, a show about a hitman/struggling actor, doesn't make the mistake of addressing its own absurdity. Characters involved in the high-stakes world of contract killing are cool and rational, while the wannabes in Barry's acting class are constantly in hysterics. As a character, Barry is a direct reflection of this dichotomy. He's weeping during a performance of Macbeth, but completely stoic while murdering Chechen gangsters. Sure, the point of the show is that he's using acting as a means of expressing his inner anguish, but this takes nothing away from the weirdness of it all. In fact, it just compounds it. Insomuch as art is a reflection of the time in which it's made, Barry is hilarious in a very 2018 kind of way. The characters are all super weird, but there's no sense of self-referentiality. The world spins and these weirdos exist in it. So while the plot is genius and wholly original, there's a feeling of familiarity. The strangeness of Barry, as well as the (lack of) response to it,perfectly reflects the current, peculiar (and dark) chapter of American history.
[Editor's note: D'Arcy Carden is also in Barry. Just saying.]
This list wouldn't be complete without at least a nod to the small-screen masterpiece that is Queer Eye. I didn't want to like it, I didn't want to buy into the sadness porn, but I did. I wanted to tear this show to pieces for the inauthenticity I was certain must be there. I wanted to be able to say with superiority at the conceptual cocktail parties that I conceptually frequent; "I just don't know what all the fuss is about," whilst swirling my conceptual martini. But in reality, I was completely sold after one episode. This show is pure, well-intentioned, and thought-provoking in a time when cynicism seems to be the norm. Reality TV as a genre is a scourge upon the earth, but Queer Eye proves that good can come from the most unlikely places.
Bonus: The 2018 Popdust TV Awards
Best Supporting Role by a Parking Garage:The Americans
Best Ponytail Despite Having an Arm in a Sling: Kim Wexler (Rhea Seahorn), Better Call Saul
Most Intimidating Teen: Amma Crellin (Eliza Scanlen), Sharp Objects
Tightest Tush: Andrew Cunanan (Darren Criss), The Assassination of Gianni Versace
Most Heavily-Handed Diversity Casting:9-1-1
Best Punch to the Boob:Haunting of Hill House
Most Unabashed Reliance on Studio Audience:Will and Grace
Deadest Eyes: Juliana Crane (Alexa Davalos), The Man in the High Castle
Most Charming Hairless Hit Man: Noho Hank (Anthony Carrigan), Barry
Most Relatable Child-Hater: Susie Myerson (Alex Borstein), The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel
Painfully Still on TV for Some Reason:Supernatural
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