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