The Best TV Shows of 2019 (So Far)

Network: FX

Stars: Chris Geere, Aya Cash, Desmin Borges, Kether Donohue

The finale isn't the end-all be-all, but damn, it sure is pleasant when the show nails a great ending. Imagine creator Stephen Falk didn’t bring his anti-romcom love story about damaged people finding each other and developing their own unorthodox-but-still-genuine relationship home in a fitting manner. He, along with co-leads Chris Geere and the especially formidable talent Aya Cash, would’ve still given us two classic, if not perfect, seasons that would live on. Thankfully, unlike some other shows that concluded this year, imagining is all we have to do because the last episode of You're the Worst is one of the most satisfying finales in recent memory. 

The show hit its creative nadir last year; the episodes leading up to Gretchen and Jimmy’s wedding in this final season were a bounce-back, but not fully. Some arcs didn’t quite land, others meandered, and the less said about Vernon and Becca, the better. But, armed with flash-forwards that implied Gretchen and Jimmy succumbed to the odds and didn’t live happily ever after, the penultimate episode and finale forgave every stumble that preceded them, creating a different path for our favorite dummies that isn’t a fairytale ride off into the sunset nor a bummer beset by tears, infidelity, and betrayal. It’s the path the show, by its very existence, was always charting. In the end, You're the Worst knew Gretchen, Jimmy, and itself as well as we'd hoped. —Frazier Tharpe

Network: Showtime

Stars: Don Cheadle, Andrew Rannells, Regina Hall, Paul Scheer

This show does coke on a school night. Black Monday, executive produced by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg (the duo directed the first episode as well), is powered by Don Cheadle and Regina Hall’s amazing chemistry and brought home by Andrew Rannells, the show’s unsung hero. The high jinks brought on by the supporting cast really make this show what is, though, along with the ultra-’80s aesthetic. Black Monday is easily the most underrated show of the year, so far. Clocking in at about 30 minutes an episode, it’s an easy, fun watch that’ll make you cry laughing while also walking away in WTF disgust. Watch it, preferably on cocaine. (Don’t do coke.) —Angel Diaz

Network: FX

Stars: Kayvan Novak, Matt Berry, Natasia Demetriou, Harvey Guillén, Mark Proksch

Jemaine Clement and Taika Waititi have each become famous in their own right: Clement has established himself as a go-to character actor, and Waititi has emerged as a blockbuster director with Thor: Ragnarok. Overnight successes are often years in the making: Clement and Waititi’s creative partnership goes back more than a decade, and throughout that time they have worked on various iterations of their vampire mockumentary, What We Do in the Shadows.

The TV version of the concept the pair first debuted as a short film in 2005 offers a wider scope than the 2014 feature without losing any of the awkward humor that made the film a cult hit. This time, a trio of centuries-old vampires (Kayvan Novak, Matt Berry, and Natasia Demetriou) are tasked with using their eldritch powers to take over Staten Island. They enlist an eternally boring psychic vampire (Mark Proksch), an obsessive lackey (Harvey Guillén), and a virginal LARPer (Beanie Feldstein) to assist them. 

Maintaining the awkward docu-style that worked so well in the 2014 film, the TV version is a nonstop showcase of hilarious character acting. It is hard to pin down which character steals the show because, with each scene, one actor outdoes another. The writing is sharp throughout, constantly reveling in the ridiculousness of the conceit.

It is clear that Clement and Waititi still find this concept just as funny as they did in 2005, and if they want to keep revisiting it every so often, the world will be better for it. —Brenden Gallagher

Network: HBO

Stars: Mahershala Ali, Carmen Ejogo, Stephen Dorff, Scoot McNairy, Ray Fisher

Mahershala Ali could carve an elementary school rendition of Goodnight Moon into an Emmy-worthy performance. That’s why, at least in part, I was willing to give True Detective another chance after its botched second season. The other reason is akin to car-crash-curiosity. Season 2 is bad, but so bizarre it was still compulsively watchable. Instead, this new season matched neither the highs of Carcosa nor the insanity of Ray Velcoro.

While this go-round doesn’t capture the same brooding magic the show’s first run did, it’s not due to another bad showing. The troubled characters, dark tone provided by the Ozarks setting, and yo-yoing between decades instantly reminds you of why you want it to succeed. Ali, a particularly engaged Stephen Dorff, Carmen Ejogo, and Scoot McNairy don’t disappoint, either, delivering some of the best performances of the year. Sadly, the previous season still seems to haunt creator Nic Pizzolatto. With lofty ambitions being the downfall of Season 2, here he takes a safer approach and writes the mystery as second fiddle to Ali and Ejogo’s beautiful love story. The question is, is that still True Detective, or simply the bleeding of a familiar brand? —Nate Houston

Network: Hulu

Stars: Maya Erskine, Anna Konkle, Mutsuko Erskine, Richard Karn, Taylor Nichols, Melora Walters, Taj Cross, Dallas Liu

“Teenagers” on television are often portrayed by bronzed, beautiful 25-year-olds doing their best to channel their beautiful 17-year-old selves. PEN15 stars Maya Erskine and Anna Konkle flip that script as thirtysomethings playing teenage versions of themselves, navigating the early days of the millennium and fully embracing all of the painful awkwardness of middle school life. 

The humor and unexpected emotional power of PEN15 come from the raw honesty that Konkle and Erskine (who also created and wrote for the series) bring to their roles. They revel in the gross, awkward moments of early teen life, from bodily functions to masturbation. They cry over their crushes, play “Seven Minutes in Heaven,” stress about band concerts, and agonize over the prospect of drinking their first beer.

Though the fact that the rest of the characters are portrayed by age-appropriate actors is often played for laughs, this also allows Erskine and Konkle to melt into their roles and find the truth behind the obvious humor of a 30-year-old trying to impress actual 13-year-olds. At certain moments, you almost believe the actresses have stepped back in time, before another hilarious physical gag jolts you back into the conceit of the show. 

This is PEN15’s secret weapon: The show is just as emotionally honest as it is hilarious, and Erskine and Konkle play that tension masterfully. —Brenden Gallagher

Network: Netflix

Stars: Asa Butterfield, Gillian Anderson, Ncuti Gatwa, Emma Mackey, Connor Swindells, Kedar Williams-Stirling

Inclusive and nonjudgmental, charming and edgy, Sex Education was a rightful breakout hit this year. Most refreshing was that it treated its characters with enough respect to elevate beyond the typical “teen show.” It follows Otis, a socially awkward British high school student whose mother is a sex therapist (played with great gusto by Gillian Anderson). Her openness actually causes him great angst (read: impotence), but makes him a reluctant expert on the subject, which his crush Maeve takes advantage of. Together, they run an underground sex clinic for their classmates, resolving all manner of issues that underscore not just teen sexuality but all the messy, confusing, sweet, and embarrassing aspects of sexuality—no matter who you sleep with or what age you are. —Dria Roland

Network: Netflix

Stars: Christina Applegate, Linda Cardellini, James Marsden, Max Jenkins, Sam McCarthy, Luke Roessler, Edward Asner

Christina Applegate is always a wonder, and Linda Cardellini, despite being a two-decade veteran, hasn’t anchored something like this in long enough for me to think she’d slay like she did here. But this Netflix series, which featured two women dealing with two different kinds of grief in two very different ways, was one of the better binges of the year—and one of the most surprisingly rewarding watches of 2019. Somewhere in the mountain of cliffhangers, macabre humor, and outright intensity is a relationship between two women more connected than they realize, leaving viewers hanging on the edge of their seats, waiting for the characters to catch up to the information the audience already has. That desire, paired with a challenging on-screen relationship, was enough to prepare us for the total mess of a finale that we received. Luckily, Season 2 has been ordered, so we’ll at least get to consume their grief for another season-long stretch. —khal

Network: Starz

Stars: Melissa Barrera, Mishel Prada, Ser Anzoategui, Chelsea Rendon, Carlos Miranda, Maria Elena Laas, Roberta Colindrez

Season 1 of Starz’s LGBTQ+-friendly series about a Mexican community in California slipped under the rug in 2018; those who knew knew, and were treated to an enthralling tale regarding two sisters having to deal with the death of their mother and the series of issues (and secrets) that arose in its wake. It was an intoxicating collection of woke, sexy, and hilarious tales woven together in intriguing ways. Season 2 doubled down on all of that, kicking things off with an orgy and ending things with a protest, finding ways to bring everything from SJWs, Latinx culture, and more to the fore. Melissa Barrera and Mishel Prada are enthralling as Vida’s daughters, bringing so much to their characters while also allowing a talented cast to get their shit off. This is appointment television. —khal

Network: HBO

Stars: Emilia Clarke, Kit Harington, Sophie Turner, Maisie Williams

All signs pointed to victory, a long-awaited, oft-delayed but well deserved conclusion for everyone involved. Then, suddenly, something was amiss. Doubt crept in. Those same signs switched to tingling sensations of danger ahead. By the time the picture came into sharp focus and the realities of the situation set in, it was too late. Too late to turn around and too late to prevent it. Tragedy struck surely and swiftly, providing a much different conclusion than anyone could have expected or predicted. 

That describes the Red Wedding, the sequence of heinous betrayal that already resides in the TV Hall of Fame. Unfortunately, it also describes the six-week sensation shared by many, if not a majority, of viewers as one of the biggest and often best series of our lifetime crumbled like a defeated and despondent Robb Stark on its way to the finish line. That twist, while shocking, was also well executed and, most importantly, well earned. It was unpredictable, but in tracing the elements of both character and plot that gave way to it, everything checked out, everything made sense. The same simply cannot be said for the heel turn of Daenerys Targaryen. Sorry—stray lines of dialog from past seasons that were taken to be badass but offered a different context as well isn't foreshadowing, at least not in full. Furthermore, shoving those lines into an episode’s “Previously On” segment to retroactively justify the coming development is just a slap in the face to viewers whose intelligence was once treated with respect. It's one thing to show a prophetic glimpse of a dystopian future, but once we snap back to the present, the path there has to reasonably build up to it. I cite the Red Wedding to say to non-critical viewers who think the rest of us just didn’t want to see our fave lose or, worse, break bad, you’re wrong. (Devil’s advocate: Week to week, this season was beset by annoying nitpickers as much as it was basic fans awed by scale, scope, filming length, and whatever, just happy to see things explode and people die.) All of us who watch this show are masochists. The story of a young woman triumphing over years of abuse and disenfranchisement, wowing us as she accumulated hard-earned admiration and power, only to succumb to that power and become another dictator who needs to be put down much like those she fought against sounds awesome. 

But in showrunners David Benioff and Dan Weiss’ bizarre zeal to wrap this thing up already—it was their mandate, not HBO’s or any other outside influence, that the show conclude in 13 episodes across two seasons—that isn't the story we got. Instead, we saw several characters long championed for their intelligence make stupid mistakes that didn’t bear any narrative rationality. In a bid to ramp up shock value and reverse-engineer more Red Weddings, Ned beheadings, or Mountain vs. Viper moments, D&D lost sight of what truly made those moments sing. It’s possible—probable, even—that the broad strokes of every twist they deployed in Season 8 will also unfold in George Martin’s books, but the best years of this series, the years when they were adapting directly from and collaborating with Martin, weren’t about the broad strokes. They were fully filled in and developed. So it’s hard to fault fans crying foul for lack of nuance when nuance, pacing, and slow burns were the foundations that grew this fanbase to begin with. No one reasonable wants to poke holes in a show that has dragons and ice zombies, but in the absence of nuance, questions that can’t be ignored arise. Dragons were sniped with efficiency that didn’t bear physical sense. Once-heralded prophecies and resurrections amounted to little, if anything at all. Seers didn’t share information. Queens didn’t just break bad, they turned to genocide at the drop of a dime because, uh, their genealogy said so. If Euron could see the dragons well enough to land three primo killshots, why couldn’t the dragons see him? If the cost of victory made Dany turn to fire and blood, why did she cook thousands of civilians instead of flying straight for a surrendered Cersei? If Bran can see everything, then—you see the dilemma. 

If you liked this season, and that ending, I’m happy for you. But for the rest of us (the reasonable, non-petition-signing among us, at least), accepting this season means reconciling this as the end to a different show, one that didn’t prioritize spectacle over story. I can’t do that. But hey, we’ll always have Seasons 3 and 4. —Frazier Tharpe

Network: Hulu

Stars: Ramy Youssef, May Calamawy

Never has a television show portrayed the millenial Muslim experience like Ramy. How do I know this? I grew up in Paterson, New Jersey, which has one of the largest Muslim populations in America, and have a bunch of Palestinian friends (free Palestine). I also grew up Catholic, with very religious and conservative grandparents, so I can relate to the struggles of trying to be religious while also being a young American dealing with social norms. Ramy does a great job of showing that confusion and tension. The main character is mostly an idiot, but I can relate to that as well. I cannot relate to him falling for his cousin in the last episode, though. 

Ramy is funny, smart, and insightful without being too heavy-handed. Here’s to a strong run of at least four to five seasons. I’m tired of nonstop white plight; the streets need our stories to be told without violence and drugs being the plotlines. Shouts to North Jersey. —Angel Diaz

Network: FX

Stars: Sam Rockwell, Michelle Williams, Norbert Leo Butz, Margaret Qualley

It's easy to see why critics were tough on Fosse/Verdon when it launched. The biopic on prolific actor/director/dancer/choreographer Bob Fosse and Gwen Verdon, his wife/muse and a prolific actor/dancer/choreographer in her own right, is broken up into eight installments, but redundancy creeps in around No. 3. We get it: Fosse was a brilliant piece of shit. Powering through the episodes, though, reveals that to be a reductive read. Fosse/Verdon, the couple and the miniseries, isn't merely a clear-cut case of Genius Men Behaving Badly that we've seen so much of on prestige television this century. As one of the last century's most enduring showbiz power couples, their relationship, as presented on-screen in a work that draws on the novel Fosse as well as their daughter Nicole's (also an executive producer) account, was singularly symbiotic, an idea that doesn't really crystallize until the series peak in Episode 5.

At series start, the couple is in the midst of a string of some of Bob's most stinging artistic failures—his tendency to mitigate them by leaning on Gwen's innate ability to elevate his craft immediately stands out. Bob eventually achieves the level of success and acclaim he's dreamed of—only, reconciling it with his demons almost kills him. Then Episode 5 hits. A bottle installment, it finds an estranged Gwen, Bob, their respective lovers, and a handful of equally legendary showbiz friends cooped up in a Hamptons mansion on a weekend getaway. Tensions arise from their dueling agendas—in the wake of a physical and mental breakdown, Bob wants to pursue a brooding, dark drama; Gwen wants them to realize their lifelong dream of staging Chicago. Bob's new girlfriend wants him to take a year off altogether—Gwen knows him well enough to realize idle hands will kill him faster than anything else. But as Hollywood ageism looms over her, Gwen's ache to work is almost just as palpable (her proficiency for manipulation isn't far from Bob's), and during a climactic impromptu performance for the rest of their friends, Bob sees it. He recognizes it. Even through screaming matches and seething disdain, they get each other, need each other, and wouldn't be whole—artistically and emotionally—without the other. The Limited Series Emmy was Michelle's to lose until Meryl came along. —Frazier Tharpe

Network: NBC

Stars: Kristen Bell, William Jackson Harper, Jameela Jamil, D'Arcy Carden, Manny Jacinto, Ted Danson

In fairness, of the 12 episodes in Season 3 of The Good Place, only three aired this year. But two of them featured the unfailing Maya Rudolph as The Judge, which is more than enough justification. When she briefly visits Earth and discovers racism—“Also, I guess I’m black? They do not like black ladies down there”—it’s another example of the brilliant commentary on the human condition the show sneaks in.

These episodes follow suit of previous season finales. There’s another system reset, but this one has enough twists to make you sick: Chidi’s memory is wiped; Eleanor has to take over and be The Architect; the Bad Place has picked a new batch of freshly dead humans to run through the experiment, except these people were actual tormentors of our Soul Squad in real life; and oh, their (permanent) fate depends on whether this new group proves their theory that it’s just too dang hard to be good. Everything is different all over again, but The Good Place remains funny as hell, even when it seems things are royally forked. —Dria Roland

Network: Hulu

Stars: Patricia Arquette, Joey King, AnnaSophia Robb, Chloë Sevigny, Calum Worthy

Since The People v. O.J. Simpson, the boon of quality limited true-crime series hitting television has been extraordinary to watch. As more real-life stories have been mined for the small screen, the ante has been upped, and the first season of Hulu’s The Act, starring Patricia Arquette and Joey King as Dee Dee and Gypsy Rose Blanchard (respectively), has been a whirlwind of emotions to partake of. Starting out as a BuzzFeed article about the tragic ending of one of the worst cases of Munchausen syndrome by proxy many have ever heard of, their story was told in a 2017 documentary before this limited series hit. There’s something about the use of sound, intensity, and engaging performances by both King and Arquette that turned this series into some of the most captivating television to hit this year. Sure, it looks amazing, with the slow-motion, drawn-out camera shots and the intense close-ups, but the way the story developed, and the parallel “acts” being played both on the public at large and within Gypsy Rose and Dee Dee’s home made for rough, worthwhile viewing. The struggle Gypsy Rose went through was real, and while the end result of her relationship with her mother, Dee Dee, is a struggle to rationalize, this series at least shows you just how real it got for her in that situation. —khal

Network: NBC

Stars: Milo Ventimiglia, Mandy Moore, Sterling K. Brown, Chrissy Metz

After Season 2 solved the mystery of how Pearson family patriarch Jack died, fans wondered how the show would sustain interest. Thanks to a beleaguered storyline that tried to keep Jack involved by focusing on his and his estranged brother’s military service in Vietnam, they almost... didn’t. BUT THEN! They gave the people what they wanted—some R&B. Season 3 gained steam when it applied pressure to the couple we’d all been lauding as #GOALS. Putting Randall and Beth’s relationship on thin ice gave fans a reason to be invested, and their origin story, neither as romantic or neat as we’d have liked to believe, showed us no one’s perfect while never losing the tender and tense moments that are the heartbeat of the show. Now can they hold this spot for three more seasons? —Dria Roland

Network: HBO

Stars: Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman, Shailene Woodley, Zoë Kravitz, Laura Dern, Meryl Streep

“But Complex,” you’re saying, “didn’t Big Little Lies just come back for its second season?” You’re correct, true believer, but being as we have to live in the future to bring you the proper now, we’ve been able to take in the first three episodes of HBO’s phenomenal Monterey-set series, and I’m proud to let you know that it’s a beautiful return to form. The show spent its first season revealing puzzle pieces from the future before giving you the full whodunit during the Season 1 finale. The second season finds the Monterey Five spending their days finding a way to cope with the events of the first season. For a show that’s shot and acted better than it needs to be, they sure maintained the tone. Adding Meryl Streep to the cast as a mother looking to find the truth about the death of her POS son was a blessing, birthing some vicious darts between her and Reese Witherspoon whenever the two of them occupy the same space. The ramifications of what these five women did, and the lives they led to that point, aren’t going away anytime soon, and every viewer should be learning something about themselves when taking in each of this season’s episodes. —khal

Network: Showtime

Stars: Paul Giamatti, Damian Lewis, Maggie Siff, Malin Åkerman

You have to love when a plan comes together. Season 4 of Showtime’s runaway hit that exposes the skeevy but glitzy world of high-net-worth individuals and the invisible but ever-present hand of the law seemed to back itself into an uninteresting corner. Instead of showcasing the zeal and ingenuity of the players maneuvering in those worlds, the show turned its attention to the most base and petty of its characters’ motivations. We saw billionaire hedge fund manager Bobby Axelrod take aim at his former protege while his former nemesis-cum-crutch, Chuck Rhodes, did everything in his power to abdicate his power by trying to empower his comically aloof pops—the inimitable Jeffery DeMunn. It seemed like the thread had completely unraveled. But Brian Koppelman and David Levien had other plans. The showrunners weaved together a narrative that saw the protagonists lean into their base impulses—Bobby, the vindictive sociopath hellbent on conquering all he can control; and Chuck, the vindictive sociopath hellbent on bending the system to his will—so far that they’ve wound up back in the positions we found them in when the show began. It’s a masterclass of pacing and plotting. The running narrative has been that the wealthy are just like us. They’re not. This show proves it. You love to see it. —Damien Scott

Network: Netflix

Stars: Natasha Lyonne, Greta Lee, Yul Vazquez, Charlie Barnett, Elizabeth Ashley

With the series coming straight out of the gate with a mystery-box premise, you may find yourself dropping Russian Doll into the bag of shows currently tussling for the title of Twilight Zone Progeny. This would be a mistake, though. Comically crisp dialogue and crudely endearing characters push heart over highbrow, imbuing the show with its own take on an increasingly crowded genre.

Natasha Lyonne injects this message via her standout performance as a vice-riddled misanthrope forced to relive her 36th birthday on loop. The ensuing hilarity unravels her past and present, good and bad, giving us a character with a level of depth rarely seen inside the genre. Don’t get me wrong, Russian Doll isn’t perfect. Its greatest strength is also its weakness, losing sight of plot for voracious personal dramas and causing it to lag in the middle. But the injection of new blood via Charlie Barnett’s character quickly gets the story back on track. Together, Lyonne and Barnett find the sweet spot, using their characters’ repeating circumstances and complicated backgrounds to navigate the story at an entertaining speed and bring the series home.

All in all, Russian Doll delivers Netflix one of its most intelligently ambitious projects to date, and a rare win for their original content. Here’s hoping the same team has something else in the works. —Nate Houston

Network: Netflix

Stars: Miley Cyrus, Anthony Mackie, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II

While I barely give a shit about what other critics say, I’m definitely not riding the “Black Mirror Season 5 is trash” wave that so many of my peers are. To be honest, Bandersnatch taking so much of Charlie Brooker’s time to create might have been a godsend, as it forced everyone to craft a fifth season that reverted to the length of the two pre-Netflix seasons. This allowed each episode to stand a bit taller, getting the series back to the essence of what made it so revered to begin with. It’s taking stars instead of making stars, but it’s gone back to the basics in terms of giving us that gloomy, dystopian future feel that may have been missing in previous seasons or episodes. Individually, these stories aren’t hitting the top 10 of anyone’s Black Mirror list, but I’d much rather three solid episodes than a longer season with weaker pieces. Color me in the minority—I’m OK with that. —khal

Network: HBO

Stars: Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Anna Chlumsky, Tony Hale, Reid Scott, Timothy Simons

Game of Thrones writers David Benioff and Dan Weiss could learn a thing or two from Veep’s last hurrah. It’s difficult for a revered series to stick the final season’s landing, but Veep did that. In what is easily one of the most brilliant satirical shows in an era of super-PC television, the writers played Trump’s rise to power to amazing effect. They split his scandals, strategies, and tendencies between Selina Meyer’s (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) and Jonah Ryan’s (Timothy Simons) presidential campaigns to make everybody more unlikeable than they already were. Selina and her band of win-at-any-cost misfits will be sorely missed. Job well done. —Angel Diaz

Network: BBC America

Stars: Sandra Oh, Jodie Comer, Fiona Shaw

Killing Eve is another series that frustrated some during its second season, and I won’t disagree. The MI6 stuff with Aaron Peel got under my skin as well; for a show built on the relationship between its fascinating leads, it spent too much time setting up a storyline that should’ve been No. 1, but ended up getting very old very fast. That said, Jodie Comer and Sandra Oh sunk their teeth into the material given to them this season. Eve breaking bad was a joy to watch, especially if you could muster a shit to give about her husband. Villanelle put in WORK, especially during her undercover AA meetings, delivering powerful monologues that served as ways to enhance her fake persona while giving Eve the real deal over their secret comms. The series was ultra witty, ultra-violent (I mean, an ax plays very prominently in the season finale), and ultra satisfying. With Season 2 ending in an inversion of what Season 1 was, the questions we’re left with have me excited for the already-confirmed Season 3. —khal

Network: HBO

Stars: Jared Harris, Stellan Skarsgård, Paul Ritter, Jessie Buckley, Adam Nagaitis, Con O'Neill

British accents aside, Craig Mazin’s interpretation of the event that led to the collapse of the Soviet Union is nothing short of brilliant. The first two episodes were perhaps the most beautifully tragic pieces of television I’ve ever watched. To see the decisions the team at the Chernobyl plant made play out in real time was like watching a horror movie unfold. The suspense slugged along in agonizing fashion as Assistant Chief Engineer of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant Anatoly Dyatlov (played by Paul Ritter) sent his staff off to slaughter, even going so far as calling in the day shift to help figure out whether they had a disaster on their hands. Each realization of what actually happened was ignored and met with immediate denial by those in charge. The aftermath showed how far the former U.S.S.R. was willing to go to suppress the truth. Russia is still trying to deny that the explosion was their fault by recently greenlighting a series telling the “real” story of how an American operative was actually the one who caused the Chernobyl disaster. If not for the courage of scientist Valery Legasov (played by Jared Harris), Russia and its neighboring European countries would’ve been uninhabitable forever and nuclear plants in the Eastern Hemisphere wouldn't have gotten the safety features needed to continue operating. Be prepared for this show to win all the Emmys. —Angel Diaz

Network: Netflix

Stars: Asante Blackk, Caleel Harris, Ethan Herisse, Jharrel Jerome, Marquis Rodriguez, Jovan Adepo, Chris Chalk, Justin Cunningham

To be seen is so important. For many years, the country was force-fed a story of five black and brown teens brutally raping and assaulting a woman jogging through Central Park on April 19, 1989. They were sent to prison, their lives turned upside down, before a 2014 settlement from the City of New York awarded the quintet roughly $40 million. Even after a Peabody Award-winning documentary from Ken Burns (the catalyst for the 2014 settlement) was made in 2012, it still didn’t feel like their stories were really told...until Ava DuVernay made it her mission to tell them. After her Netflix documentary 13th examined the 13th Amendment and how it’s used in the prison system, she took this opportunity to craft a four-part miniseries telling the story of the Central Park Five, from their perspective. From the horrific night in police custody and a trial that was doomed from the start to their growing from boys to men in the belly of the beast, we got to see how harrowing this ordeal was for each of them. These are red, white, and blue scars that can’t be erased, but they need to be examined so we can learn from our mistakes. Or, at the very least, teach the black and brown children growing up today how to navigate the system so they don’t end up in these predicaments. —khal

Network: Comedy Central

Stars: Drew Tarver, Heléne Yorke, Case Walker, Ken Marino

Surf a channel or a streaming service and you’ll find two dozen sitcoms with some variation of a premise that lampoons Hollywood, and/or the contemporary pop music industry, and/or the vapid people who populate those spaces, and/or the desperate, potentially corruptible people who want to sit beside them. Few, I’d wager, can match the acerbic wit, incisive perspective, dead-on yeah-this-could-totally-happen precision, and all-around hilarity of The Other Two. The logline alone is enough to sell any recommendation: The eponymous other two refers to Cary and Brooke, early-30s siblings in a losing battle with their career trajectories, love lives, and New York City overall, whose new best option is to ride the coattails of their viral pop sensation of a preteen younger brother Chase (his performing moniker: the perfectly saccharine Chase Dreams), a nascent Justin Bieber type. Across its 10-episode debut season, The Other Two has fun holding up a funhouse mirror to plenty of contemporary pop culture’s ridiculous staples, including everything from the VMAs to “InstaGay” culture. But instead of, say, limiting Cary’s sexuality to a source for humor and caricatures, the show slowly but surely threads an arc about Cary’s own acceptance of his sexuality, or lack thereof—sometimes rendering him the villain of his own subplots. The same empathy is provided to Brooke; Chase, who, despite his success, hasn’t lost his earnestness; and their mother (the GOAT Molly Shannon), whose dark secret about their father’s death informs her seeming willingness to push the family into the media orbit with reckless abandon. Most shows take time to find their footing—this is one of the greatest series debuts in recent memory. We might have under-ranked it. Catch up, tell your friends, and keep the hype for this gem going until we get six seasons and a movie. —Frazier Tharpe

Network: HBO

Stars: Bill Hader, Stephen Root, Sarah Goldberg, Glenn Fleshler, Anthony Carrigan, Henry Winkler

Kevyn Aucoin was right, perfection is boring. The first season of Barry laid the groundwork for an enjoyable, if not exemplary, tragicomedy. Reason suggested Season 2 would work on buffing the edges, filling out the characters, and seeing how far the audience was willing to go with the story of a hitman who thinks he has a heart of gold. Alec Berg and Bill Hader threw reason out the window and instead made a beautifully surreal dreamscape that somehow moved the story along while treating viewers to one of the best episode runs in TV this year. In the end, it turned out to be the perfect follow-up. —Damien Scott

Network: FX

Stars: Pamela Adlon, Mikey Madison, Hannah Alligood, Olivia Edward, Celia Imrie

In 2017, when Louis C.K. acknowledged the allegations of sexual misconduct lobbed at him for years as being true, FX reacted in kind, essentially taking all that he’d given the cable channel away from him. For observant fans, that meant the possibility of losing Pamela Adlon’s acclaimed Better Things. Wisely, FX saw the vision, giving Adlon the reins of the series that mirrors her real life and in turn setting her free to cultivate the best season of the show to date.

Building on the themes of seasons past, Sam (Adlon) has a lot on her plate. Her oldest daughter, Max, is off to college in Chicago, while her youngest, Duke, is the most in tune with the spirits inhabiting their family home. Frankie is ever the proverbial middle child, more headstrong than Jan Brady and more woke than, well, anyone. As in real life, nothing will be the same: Max is back home before the school year’s over, and Frankie ends up charting her own path. Duke is stuck figuring things out by herself as Sam wanders, trying to keep all of the pieces in the air before her whole world falls upon her.

Somewhere in the middle, Better Things’ third season gives voice to the voiceless in the mainstream, from middle-aged women and the elderly to teens, who, like many of us, spend their time trying to navigate a world that seems to be changing on a dime. Through it all, Sam keeps the funny while being unafraid to keep shit real. The series also doesn’t dole out happy endings; again, as in life, things don’t settle down neatly. We fuck up. We don’t always win. But we get up every day and try. That’s about all you can really do. —khal