The Best TV Shows of 2017

Image via Complex/Jonathan Fouabi

Network: AMC

Starring: Dominic Cooper, Ruth Negga

With the first season of the twisted AMC show playing as a prequel to the cult favorite comic book series, Preacher stepped in 2017 with new locales (New Orleans, Hell) and an insane road trip for its three protagonists. And now that we knew more about Jesse, Tulip and Cassidy, it was time for their freak flags to fly at full mast, which meant the ability to ramp up the humor, action, and gore. While Preacher can be tough for many to dive into, it’s well worth the effort, especially if you’re questioning God as heavy as Jesse is.—khal

Network: Netflix

Starring: Jonathan Groff, Anna Torv, Holt McCallany

Have you ever found yourself going down a serial killer Wikipedia wormhole at two in the morning? If so, Mindhunter is the manifestation of the History of Serial Killers section. Now, serial killers weren’t invented in the ‘60s and ‘70s but the term “serial killer” was, which is basically what Mindhunter is about. FBI agents Holden Ford (Groff) and Bill Tench (McCallany) work for the bureau’s Behavioral Science Unit and are tasked with figuring out patterns between similar murder cases. “How do we get ahead of crazy if we don’t know how crazy thinks?” is what Tench told his boss Shepard (Cotter Smith) to convince him to take their unit seriously. The series takes off from there as its protagonists travel to maximum-security prisons across the country. Each episode delves deeper into the minds of some of the most notorious serial killers of our time such as Edmund Kemper and Richard Speck as Ford and Tench interview them in hopes of stopping heinous crimes before they happen. If you dig a good serial killer wiki page, this series is most definitely for you. —Angel Diaz

Network: Hulu

Starring: Elisabeth Moss, Joseph Fiennes, Samira Wiley, Alexis Bledel

Hulu's release strategy is weird. I love it, as someone who is, for the most part anti-binging. But dropping the first three eps at once so we can binge like the times demand before scaling back for more traditional weekly programming can create whiplash. In an age where 500 series are vying for our attention, three episodes is more than enough to build out a definitive opinion about a show. Seven more episodes, though, is still a ton of story—plenty of opportunity to expound on those things you loved about episodes one through three, change your minds about the aspects that turned you off, or in the case of The Handmaid's Tale, unscrew a tightly-made critical darling powerhouse into something looser, shakier, and soapier.

Over the course of episodes four through 10, the music cues became anvil-level subtle, we were saddled with not one but two male-gaze pivots that simply did not work at all, and certain plot points and interactions felt more common with a CW melodrama than "prestige-level writing." Not to mention, mantras like, "Don't let the bastards grind you down" or the slo-mo Handmaid's f**k-yea walk in the finale felt like undermining the stakes for the sake of meme-able "go-girl defiance" as Emily Nussbaum memorably categorized it. By the time the show claimed top honors at the Emmys three months later, the tenor had changed largely from adoration to scoff. Whiplash.

I think we're being too hard on it. "Offred" through "Late" are greater than the sum of their later parts, sure. But to dismiss everything after as a majorly unstuck landing feels reductive. Even perfect shows stumble, especially in season one. The highs were still worthwhile. I'm thinking of Yvonne Strahovski continuing to deliver the show's (and the year's?) most underrated performance as the multi-faced, complicit-victim Serena Joy and the villainous peaks she soared to in the finale. Or, how the episode before it, "The Bridge," felt just as inevitably horrific (and cause-for-pausing for a breather) as "Late". And of course, how Elisabeth Moss bodied everything before her with tour de force flair—we were all in agreement, at least, that she deserved that Best Actress statue. The resistance elements may hint at season two getting even hokier but for now, let's all reassess the difference between flaw and nitpick. Mediocre prestige television evens out to pretty good, still. —Fraizer Tharpe

Network: Netflix

Starring: DeWanda Wise, Anthony Ramos, Cleo Anthony, Lyriq Bent

Spike Lee made his debut into the television series format with She’s Gotta Have It, an update to his classic 1986 film. With a nod to his brilliant cinematic eye, and a reimagining of his seminal characters (especially the talented DeWanda Wise as Nola Darling and Hamilton’s Anthony Ramos taking up the mantle of Mars Blackmon), Lee found a way to not only retell the film’s original tale, but dive into the art of relationships, blackness, sexual assault, identity, and more topics relevant to the world we live in now. Even when the dialogue gets a bit heavy-handed, the underlying message is a vital jumping off period for today’s America. —khal

Network: ABC

Starring: Tracee Ellis Ross, Anthony Anderson

Sleep if you want, but black-ish is providing some of the best social commentaries on regular television today. Not too many sitcoms have the stones to address everything from America's reaction to Trump becoming POTUS to the reality of post-partum depression with a mix of humor and real shit like Kenya Barris and crew do. The show is chock full of shining stars, and knows how to ease into LOL humor one moment, then hit you with deep AF reality another. Who among us was ready for The Roots flipping "I'm Just a Bill" to break down the realities of being a slave in America? Or, black-ish backdoor piloting the upcoming Freeform series grown-ish? No matter how you slice it, black-ish is America on display right now, and needs to be recognized for its greatness on the reg. —khal

Network: Hulu

Starring: Gregg Sulkin, Virginia Gardner, Lyrica Okano

All teens hate their parents, but the kids in Marvel’s latest offering have good reason to. What would you do if you found out your parents were part of a secret supervillain cult? That’s the premise of the Runways, which is arguably the strongest comic book show on television, mixing classical superhero stories with magic, dinosaurs, and teen angst. Thanks to source material from Brian K Vaughn (Saga, that comic your friend who likes comics has told you have to read), the series feels fresh in the way that most shows based on comics do not. The juxtaposition of magic with Southern California aesthetics, brought to you by the creators of The O.C., only serve to further separate Runaways from the pack. —Madison Hartman

Network: Netflix

Starring: Justina Machado, Rita Moreno

With 100 new shows on Netflix you might have missed this gem, a remake of the 1975 Norman Lear show by the same name. One Day At a Time follows three generations of Cuban American women living under one roof. It’s a modern day after school special featuring EGOT (Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony) winner, Rita Moreno, that tackles subjects like alcoholism, PTSD, and what to do when your daughter comes out (Google "Autostraddle"). You can’t help but smile when the theme song (performed by Gloria Estefan) plays, and every single time the iconic Moreno appears on screen. The show is a balm for the spirit in these garbage times—and reminds us all to just take it One Day At a Time. —Madison Hartman

Network: Netflix

Starring: Jimmy Tatro, G Hannelius, Saxon Sharbino

Listen, I didn’t think I’d be writing about a true crime mockumentary centered on the question of who spray-painted dicks on a few high school teachers’ cars at the end of 2017, but like a lot of shows on this list, this one came as a surprise. Depending on who you are, the pitch for American Vandal either sounds genius or dumb as hell, but the magic of the series—which takes its stylistic cues from Making a Murderer and Serial despite its trivial subject matter—is that it’s a series that’s determined on winning you over regardless. Whether it’s star Jimmy Tatro’s hilariously dull Dylan, the painfully accurate skewering of SoCal teen culture, or the surprisingly compelling mystery at the series’ center, Vandal’s clearest strength is its undeniable likability. Is it wrong that the year’s best true crime series isn’t true at all? —Aubrey Page

Network: Netflix

Starring: Aziz Ansari, Eric Wareheim, Lena Waithe, Noël Wells

Master of None is an oddity in that its outstanding moments don’t come from the storyline of leading man Dev, played by show co-creator Aziz Ansari, but instead from the peripheral plots and supporting characters surrounding him. In fact, one of the best episodes of the season, “New York, I Love You,” hardly features him at all. The episode follows the intersecting lives of various New Yorkers in the span of a day, resulting in a perfectly wrapped tribute to the humans of New York and the beauty of life’s little moments.

What Ansari lacks in developing Dev’s story, he makes up for in creating vivid odes to people, places, and things, whether it be the romance of Italy or the excitement of being "in" with the cool kid, and by spotlighting lesser told stories, allowing gems like the Emmy-winning “Thanksgiving” to come to fruition and shine. Lena Waithe, who co-wrote and was the main actress in the episode, describes the it as the story of “a little Indian boy from South Carolina and a queer black girl from the South Side of Chicago.” Though it may be inconsistent in its quality at times, allora! The good points are great, and make the show worthy of a top 25 slot. —Isabel Naturman

Network: HBO

Starring: Emilia Clarke, Kit Harington, Sophie Turner, Lena Headey, Maisie Williams, Peter Dinklage, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau​​

Thrones might be a streaming universe's last One TV to Show to Rule Them All, having slashed and scorched its way to weekly Super Bowl status, and it carried itself as such this year. HBO’s seventh go-round—The One Where Jon Meets Daenerys—followed its best season with such prolonged confidence in the beginning that even when it walked sternly in the wrong direction, it wound up in the right place. Points docked for brevity (seven episodes? Seven hells!), points then un-docked for weaving in six years worth of characters naturally and significantly. —Zach Dionne

Network: HBO

Starring: Larry David, Cheryl Hines, Jeff Garlin, Susie Essman

It would've been a lot easier to defend this season of Curb had it not ended on what easily stands as the weakest finale to date. "Fatwa!" has hilarious moments. It's also an exercise in weird bits that go nowhere (Lin's relatives); wasted grade-A comedic talent (ugh, Casey Wilson); story seeds that don't explode the way they would've in Larry's prime (the stand-in, the signer, hell, even the wedding); and most disturbing, bemusing punchlines that fall flat (Jeff basically storyboards the ending in an earlier scene). All symptoms that ailed much of Curb's big comeback either individually or in concert.

But GOATs aren't hailed as such because they buckle under mortal flaws. In lesser hands this season could've been a complete and cautionary waste of time. So yeah, we didn't really get any classic episodes this season. Larry still gave us "foisted" and "lampin" and "disturbance in the kitchen." Lauren Graham in a multi-episode arc. Giving Chet Haze as Sammi's vet fiance retroactive PTSD. Elizabeth Banks comparing a cat to a missing child. Fashioned Lin-Manuel from lovable dork to power-drunk dickhead. A f***ing cameo from Salman Rushdie. And even the season's only true stinker, "Accidental Texter," still had laugh-out-loud moments (tap water!)

It's hard to diagnose what went wrong here precisely. Too much time off? Writing partners too familiar to help him tighten up or tone down? Mismatched priorities angled towards satisfying the mainstream Curb fan who knows "Chat n cut," thinks Leon has been on the series in its entirety and never saw "Beloved Aunt." Maybe all of the above. The best thing I can say about this finale is although each one is written to function as a series ender as well, this one didn't have that feeling at all. Larry's charged up, the post-season interviews show it. Curb season nine wasn't the comfort food we'd hoped it would be, like when a restaurant's chef randomly alters the recipe on your favorite dish. Hopefully LD (LVid?) doesn't keep us waiting too long for seconds. —Frazier Tharpe

Network: Netflix

Starring: Drew Barrymore, Timothy Olyphant, Liv Hewson

As far as I’m concerned, anything that gets queen Drew Barrymore on screen nowadays is worth peeping. It just so happens that her latest project (which she stars in and executive produces) is the weird and wonderful Santa Clarita Diet. Existing somewhere at the intersection of quirky family comedy and over-the-top gorefest, Santa Clarita Diet is a zombie series that’s as odd as it is inventive, centering on a maladjusted suburban mom (Barrymore) whose life is turned upside down after she develops a taste for human flesh. The series has all of the joys of a horror-comedy you’d expect, and Barrymore mows on more than a few unsightly body parts, but the show’s biggest joy is the family drama the viscera unfolds around. You’d be hard-pressed to find another show that’s as game for a heartfelt mom-and-daughter chat as it is a shockingly over-the-top puke session—and I mean shocking. —Aubrey Page

Network: TNT

Starring: Niecy Nash, Karrueche Tran, Carrie Preston

Who was expecting Claws to be as awesome as it ended up being? Sure, Niecy Nash has been and forever will be a national treasure, but a black comedy/crime drama starring Nash, airing on TNT, with Karrueche Tran as one of the main characters? Oh, with Dean Norris’ insane portrayal of crime lord Uncle Daddy? All based in Florida? It probably shouldn’t work as well as it did, but with such a dynamic cast and a setting that allows for the ratchet meter to be turnt all the way to 11? Claws ended up being a sleeper that many should invest their time into before it returns for round two. —khal

Network: NBC

Starring: Jerrod Carmichael, David Alan Grier, Amber Stevens West

We’ll never forgive NBC for canceling The Carmichael Show before its time was up then replacing it with Marlon, which at times felt like the wrong kind of 180 degree turn for that time slot. How many shows could openly and honestly discuss rape, stripping sisters, assisted suicide, drug use (and abuse), and threesomes with as much hilarity as Carmichael and company? Plus, they did it with a cast featuring budding talents like Tiffany Haddish, Amber Stevens West, and Lil Rel Howery, as well as vets like David Alan Grier and Loretta Devine. The old saying might be that all good things must come to an end, but when it comes to diamonds in the sitcom rough like The Carmichael Show, that end shouldn’t be as abrupt and frustrating. —khal

Network: HBO

Starring: Issa Rae, Yvonne Orji, Jay Ellis

Finally, a show in this day and age that portrays black people as, well, black people. This revelation isn’t new. Once upon a time, black television shows were prevalent, especially during the early ‘90s. No doubt Insecure drew inspiration from the likes of Martin, Living Single, and A Different World. It's evident in the way Issa Rae's series depicts honest portrayals of young Black adults as they deal with everyday life. Each of the main characters has been fleshed out in two seasons leaving the audience (looking at you, Twitter) to chose sides and argue for a week until the next episode drops. The show works because young people see so much of Issa and co. in themselves. Whether it be in our professional lives or in our personal ones, Insecure holds the mirror up to how bad we are in this game we call life. Issa, Lawrence, Molly, and Daniel are all pieces of shit in one shape or form, and so are you, him, her, and me. I’m really looking forward to Twitter being wrong about relationships for another season. —Angel Diaz

Network: FX

Starring: Pamela Adlon, Mikey Madison

In a world where damn near every man in Hollywood (including Better Things creator and now-former executive producer Louis C.K.) is being forced to get the f**k out of dodge, a series like Pamela Adlon’s Better Things is needed more now than ever before. Its first season was already a joy, but the second felt like a breath of fresh air. Season two walked a difficult tight-rope: the series was able to have beautiful one-off episodes addressing everything from relatives you’ve never met to how to deal with a man who quickly goes from doing sexy shit to turning into a complete pile of trash. It’s a testament to Adlon, who’s the quirky mom we all want, and the magnificent director any television series would be lucky to have. Bring on season three, with hopes for more of the realest, most foul-mouthed parenting we’ve seen in years. —khal

Network: Showtime, ABC

Starring: Kyle MacLachlan, David Lynch, Sheryl Lee

After a run of revivals that ranged from the disappointing to the just plain bad (lookin’ at you, X-Files), anxieties were high that David Lynch’s ambitious, 17-episode return to television could turn out overlong, incomprehensible, or worse, underwhelming. As it turns out, it was none of those things—but it’d be almost misleading to call The Return a proper continuation of the beloved series. Instead of our iconic Dale Cooper, Kyle Maclachlan returned as the near-catatonic Dougie; instead of the classic man in the red room, we got a CGI tree; and instead of the lovely Annie Blackburn, we got Naomi Watts’ maniacal Janey E. Still, Twin Peaks: The Return smacks of pure Lynchian madness from beginning to end, stuffed to the gills with the off-kilter tone and evocative imagery he made iconic over two decades ago. No matter how you feel about the ultimate sum of The Return’s parts, there’s no denying that Lynch made one of the year’s most complex and sporadically brilliant seasons of television this year. —Aubrey Page

Networks: Netflix, AMC

Starring: Bob Odenkirk, Jonathan Banks, Rhea Seehor

How the hell does Better Call Saul, a prequel/spin-off of one of television’s biggest pop culture phenomenons of recent memory (Breaking Bad), feel like one of the most slept-on shows on television today? Part of it might be its slow-and-steady pace. With seasons of television easing into a comfortable 10-episode zone, there are certain beats that viewers are looking for. Add onto that the idea that the series can (or even needs to) pile on the nostalgia and nods to the show that made it has to be frustrating. That said, season three found a way to debut Gus Fring, showcasing how he and Mike forged their unlikely partnership. It also chipped away at Jimmy’s psyche, giving him all the more reason to break bad. Heads might call him “Slippin’ Jimmy,” but his descent into Saul Goodman wasn’t banana peel-fast. Sleep if you want, but the beauty’s in the long con; one just hopes that Vince Gilligan and Peter Gould have their end-game mapped out properly...and that fans are ready to receive it. —khal

Network: The CW

Starring: KJ Apa, Camila Mendes, Lili Reinhart, Cole Sprouse

The marriage of Archie Comics and The CW is a perfect, sexy, campy union. Were sexy young adults not the first thing that came to mind when we said Archie? No? Trust The CW. The first season centers on a murder mystery whodunit and the second season sees the idyllic town of Riverdale beset by a mysterious serial killer. The show is completely ridiculous, taking place in an unknown time with both iPhones and hospitals where nurses looks like they stepped out of the 1950s. Cheryl Blossom (played by Madelaine Petsch) and Jughead (aka one of the twins that starred in Disney’s Suite Life of Zach and Cody) lead a strong cast of relative unknowns. It features subtle jokes for New Yorkers (Bean and Beluca) and the most popular drug for the teens is “Jingle Jangle.” The show never, ever, takes itself too seriously. —Madison Hartman

Network: NBC

Starring: Kristen Bell, Ted Danson, Jameela Jamil

Sitcoms are supposed to be formulaic, especially the ones green lit by those dinosaur, old-world broadcast channels, right? Fresh off the heels of an instant-classic surprise twist, The Good Place didn't back down. It kept surprising, growing to become the most surprising thing on television. The only constant, week-to-week, is delight. There's a status quo at times, sure, but for the most part, there's simply no telling where this series is headed next. It's wonderfully out of its f***ing mind and also ethically poignant and legitimately laugh-out-loud hilarious. Can a gang of idiot narcissists, their sentient Siri, and a pseudo-reformed demon redeem themselves in the after-life significantly enough to earn their way into Heaven? Will they even get the chance to? With execution this sublime and this daring, I've never cared less about where a story's going. I'm just so glad to be here. —Frazier Tharpe

Network: Netflix

Starring: Millie Bobby Brown, Gaten Matarazzo, Finn Wolfhard, Caleb McLaughlin, Winona Ryder

Few shows this year had a bigger mountain of expectations to climb than Stranger Things, which after dropping quietly on Netflix last summer, has blown the f**k up; so much so that the young stars have had to ask actual adults to chill the hell out about it. By the time Halloween rolled around, it was impossible to imagine the Duffer Brothers would be able to make everyone happy. Instead, Season 2 is arguably just as strong as its phenomenal first season. The show managed to beef up its mythology without taking the story too far from its charming roots. It’s not a perfect season (we can all agree that episode seven is a total dud), but between Will’s glow up, Eleven’s bitchin’ makeover and new fan-fave Erica, Stranger Things 2 gave us basically everything we could have asked for… and then some. —Aubrey Page

Network: FX

Starring: Dan Stevens, Aubrey Plaza

In 2017, Marvel not only unleashed The Punisher on Netflix, but brought on success (Hulu’s Runaways) and failures (ABC’s Inhumans) to the small screen. It’s the same year that DC brought their CW heroes into one massive Crisis, and the Archie Comics camp brought us the magnificent Riverdale. Somehow, with all of this comic book-orientated television in the world, Fox found a way to bring their mutants to television... and win. The Gifted continued more in the vein of the X-Men films, to much acclaim, but it was Legion, which lived on FX and operated outside of the constraints of the X-Men Cinematic Universe, that nailed what comic book television can be.

Somehow, FX found a way to introduce a C-list omega-level X-Men character (Legion), make it so we learned about his powers around the same time he did, all inside the most captivating indie superhero series we didn’t know we needed. Dan Stevens’ performance as Legion is great, but you’d be playing yourself if you didn’t realize that this series truly let Aubrey Plaza shine as the madcap representation of an evil latching onto Legion’s unique powerset. There’s so much to love about this show, and so much more ground to cover. If anything, Legion is proof positive that more comic book houses should be taking risks with their characters, both on the big screen and on television. —khal

Network: USA Network

Starring: Rami Malek, Christian Slater

Don't call it a comeback. Mr. Robot season two was the best thing smoking on TV last year, an artful, albeit at times over-indulgent, meditation on mental sanity, duality, and inevitability. It also understandably alienated some viewers with dense storytelling and unrestrained digressions. Season three has been the beautiful merger of season one's plotting with season two's artful character study into tightly crafted masterclass storytelling working in harmony with mainstream television appeals. It's Sam Esmail's DAMN. moment.

You'd think the dual-identity gimmick would inevitably be stale if not outright stall by year three. Guess again. The battle for Elliot's mind and body keeps finding new ways to manifest itself—I can't think of a scene more chilling and simple, than an early one with him and Darlene where only Rami Malek's voice inflections and the camera's pan tell us who she's talking to. I can't think of a one-two punch more breathtaking than the (somewhat needlessly, there goes that overindulgence again) "one-take" episode coupled with Elliot's race against time and himself to stop a building from blowing up. What was more deliciously pitch-black dark than not only his grand failure (mild spoiler) but the way the following hour just underlines that failure in blood while Joey Badass waxes poetic about Frasier? How beautiful was the cinematically filmed, sobering episode that somehow managed to subvert Precocious Kid Reaffirms Our Hero's Meaning of Life cliches? Who, on the tube, can really see Bobby Cannavale—who joins the show this season to give the shadow cabal Dark Army a more human, greasy-haired rib-smeared visage—on this character-actor shit? This is the best f**king show on TV until you remember what HBO did at the top of the year. Ratings are lower than they've ever been. Like Mr. Robot himself exasperatedly bellows at whoever doubts him: "Wake the f**k up." —Frazier Tharpe

Network: HBO

Starring: Nicole Kidman, Reese Witherspoon, Shailene Woodley, Laura Dern, Zoë Kravitz

Did anyone really need another show about rich white women? Not really, but, wow, did Big Little Lies exceed every expectation. The Jean Marc Vallee-directed, Reese Witherspoon-produced drama based on the novel by Liane Moriarty follows a group of Monterey, California moms—sniping and griping about their day-to-day lives, which primarily revolves around their grade school aged children. But under the picturesque California landscape, of course, lies something much more sinister. A Greek chorus of Monterey parents, teachers and partners all work to unravel a murder that has rocked their idyllic community. With breathtaking turns from Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman, Laura Dern, and Shailene Woodley, along with an impressive supporting cast of Alexander Skarsgård, Adam Scott, and many #thespian children, Big Little Lies is full of salacious drama, heartbreak, and utterly proves that it’s not just a “woman’s show.” A big middle finger to all those dudes out there who said that because these ladies laughed all the way to every goddamn awards show out. —Kerensa Cadenas

Network: HBO

Starring: Justin Theroux, Carrie Coon

Talk about a magnificent glow-up. The first season of The Leftovers left many viewers frustrated: most of them were more concerned about the “how” involving 2% of the population suddenly “departing” from the Earth. Others, rightfully so, weren’t jazzed about the season, which had roughly four or five awesome episodes in a 10-episode first season. The second season, which had no pre-existing novel to base itself on, was a magical journey to Texas, throwing in Regina King, near-death dreamworlds, and a refined purpose. That purpose came to fruition in The Leftovers third (and final) season, taking the show’s search for the faith to Australia in a glorious fashion.

The key to The Leftovers is a number of things: like the series’ long-standing theme song, at times we need to just let the mystery be. Other times, it’s about coping with life’s ills in the best way we can, recognizing that we all handle pain and anguish differently. Ultimately, it is about the trust and faith one has in their partners. That, most of the time, it’s not about trying to find out If someone’s lying; it’s about putting your life into their hands, trusting that they will see that you land on your own two feet. It’s never easy, and at times, people take years to snap out of their own shit.

The Leftovers, which ended with Carrie Coon delivering one of the illest monologues in recent memory, was built on the emotion of real life that poured through the performances of Coon and company. The series was as funny and f***ed up as our real lives, and should be commended for the unique treasure that it is. —khal