Top 7 - My Favourite TV Shows of the 2010's
Hey everyone, welcome to Best of the Decade month! For the next five weeks, I am going to be discussing the very best things that have come out this decade, at least in my opinion. Each week will have at least one post on a subject and because they're such big topics, I may be bending the numbers a bit in terms of how many entries there are (though always aiming to stick to multiples of seven). Those topics are going to include films, books, music and video games but starting us off, we have TV shows.
If you talk to anyone who's made an effort to follow TV this decade, they'll tell you it was an amazing decade for TV, a real moment of "Peak TV". As the decade reached its end, that became exhausting for some (me included) but it can't be denied that we have seen some of the best shows ever made in the last ten years. Speaking of, I want to be clear how I'm judging release windows. Being ongoing by their very nature, measuring what decade a show came out is difficult, but I've generally considered a show worthy of the list if some of the best parts of it came out in the past decade. A couple of shows have sneaked in and had their finales in the first few months of this year, but their larger input was still last decade. For example, that means shows like Dexter or 30 Rock are out, due to being weighted towards the 2000s, whereas The Good Place and Mad Men do make the cut. And again, this is entirely my opinion. If you don't see a show you love, either I didn't like it as much as you or (far more likely) I never got around to taking it off "my list". Now that we've cleared that up though, let's get started!
What seems on the outside like a slightly trashy TV show about women in skimpy outfits throwing each other across a ring has managed to emerge into a really powerful look at female friendship and allyship, as well as the ways that commerce can get in the way of genuine connection. Alison Brie and Betty Gilpin both tear up the screen in GLOW, a comedy that balances the fun with the serious in a way I am yet to get bored of.
The recent third series lacked the power of the two before but Lovesick soon stops being a show about a man getting an STI and quickly becomes about how messy and difficult it is to be a young adult who feels strongly about the people around them. Too many songs are on my Spotify playlists because of this show, not that I'll ever really complain about being reminded of Lovesick.
For a while, The Leftovers is very depressing. It's a show about 2% of the world disappearing and the chaos this plunges everyone into, depressing is the clear emotional route. However, the show spreads its wings, throws off the shackles of misery and manages to tell a deep story about complex philosophy in a truly original way. It is also the only show on this list to feature "God Only Knows" by The Beach Boys, which doesn't hurt my adoration for it.
Netflix has had a hit and miss record with its limited series but for me, Maniac marks the peak. It uses the platform to vary the episode lengths, as well as stretching the budget with many different locations and highly talented actors. For me though, the top tier production design sets it apart, creating a world that I still think about, years after the eight hours I spent with it.
I saw The Little Drummer Girl on the big screen at the London Film Festival and in a way, it was a mistake. This is a deeply cinematic show (in case the director of Oldboy and the star of the upcoming Black Widow didn't tip you off) and the fact it is stuck on a small screen is a travesty. Regardless, it's worth a breezy little binge, even for people who aren't as obsessed with Florence Pugh as I am.
Though not the most well known anthology series this decade (more on that later), Inside No. 9 is a devious selection of episodes for viewers to dip into. Among them is a tale set in a hotel where every line is in iambic pentameter, an episode about crosswords and one of the greatest episodes of British television ever put on screen. Expect laughs, terror and a little sting in the tail with each bite from this playful box of chocolates.
After leaving Community, Donald Glover proved his insultingly high level of talent, first in his rap career and then with Atlanta. At first, it was a simple yet still enjoyable show about the rap scene in Atlanta but it soon became joyfully experimental. Highlights so far have included an episode based around a public access channel, a killer joke about an invisible car and "Teddy Perkins", an episode that dropped the comedy almost entirely and became a horror film. Though still only two seasons in, Atlanta shows no sign of losing the freshness that made it stand out this decade.
When the first season of Fleabag came out, I thought it was great, though didn't quite understand the astronomical hype. That all changed with the second season, a season that retroactively improved what came before (at least for me) and introduced one of the most memorable priest characters in any medium, through a performance from the immensely talented Andrew Scott. Phoebe Waller-Bridge may not have necessarily changed the game (Michaela Coel's Chewing Gum did similar work before) but it showed the world how well that game could be played.
On a personal level, Mad Men is significant for me for two reasons. First, it served as an entry point to slower paced TV that focused more on characters, an entry I needed after over-saturating myself with action packed shows built on thrills. Second though, my obsession with it reached a point that it also became my longest binge in a single sitting. Over the course of one night, I watched 13 episodes of Mad Men, finally finishing at 6am, bleary-eyed and breathless. Don Draper and his fellow ad men (and women) were characters that made that level of obsessive watching both an ease and a joy.
Whether O.J.: Made in America should be classified as a TV show or a film is a tricky debate (it aired on ESPN but was Oscar nominated) but that debate is only frustrating because it overshadows discussion of how utterly brilliant this documentary is. I am a little bit obsessed with the O.J. Simpson story, a story I believe tells us more about America than any other real life story in the last thirty years, and this seven hour documentary does it incredible justice. I know, a seven hour documentary on this guy may seem excessive but you have to trust me, it needs all that time to properly tell the story. Like I said, it's not just the story of an American Football player turned (alleged) murderer, it's the story of America in the 20th (and regrettably, 21st) century.
A couple of years ago, Rick and Morty would have made it much higher up this list. It's not that the quality dropped off that much, though the second season has proven admittedly hard to top. No, it's a really annoying show to talk about because it has inspired a really toxic and entitled fan base, who pollute any conversation around the show. I could talk about the creativity in visual style, the experimentation with story structure or the really fun references but no, I have to talk about what babies the fan base are. Whenever I think of the show, I think of them. Rick and Morty remains a show highly worth watching, but I do find it harder to recommend as the years have gone on.
David Attenborough has been a national treasure for longer than I've been alive and a show like Planet Earth 2 is a brilliant reminder as to why. It creates stories around the incredible animals we are lucky to share the earth with and reminds us that yes, we have to share this planet with them. It was the moment when all nature documentaries lost the ability to impartially observe have the world and had to acknowledge human culpability in destroying this planet we call home, an essential turning point. That would have been for nothing had it not been a drop dead gorgeous show, which became unexpected must see TV for the six weeks it was airing.
Look, The Good Place is brilliant, but it's very difficult to talk about without ruining it. It's a comedy, built around characters you can't help but love, except it also has an incredible plot with twists that rival most dramas. As such, talking about pretty much anything that happens after season 1 is impossible, so I will have to talk vaguely about it. The Good Place is a story about a woman who dies and wakes up in The Good Place (a religiously ambiguous version of heaven). The issue is, she isn't meant to be there and must try and learn ethics and philosophy in secret, to actually earn her place in The Good Place. Weirdly, the philosophy of the show is what I most adore and the finale doubles down on that with one of the most satisfying finales in TV history. There is only one other comedy that so perfectly balanced character driven comedy, meditations on mortality and pleas to love those around you and we will be getting to that later on. For now though, The Good Place is four seasons of comedic joy, haunted by existential terror and cosmic love. Of course I fell for it.
Something about a show getting cancelled always seems to enhance its legacy and there are few finer examples than Hannibal. It takes stories of the famous cannibal that we already know and applies them to the episodic nature of TV, while somehow never skimping on the gore. Some of the murder scenes in this show are haunting, truly, though I won't explain any in case you've never had the "pleasure" of seeing them. Paradoxically, the show looks absolutely gorgeous at all times, as well as containing grisly murder. What better way to show audiences the mindset of a cannibal than to treat both food scenes and murder scenes with the same amount of visual excellence? There is one edit in particular, of melting butter, that is one of the most beautiful scene transitions in any visual medium. It's strange because it's hard to explain the appeal of Hannibal, though I can say confidently that it was a show that was always either thrilling with its forensic investigation, delightful in the interplay between characters or haunting with its tales of horrific murders. Go on, take a bite, try it yourself. I dare you.
I know, I know, Black Mirror is one of those shows that has become a meme in and of itself in recent years and had a debatable drop in quality, but I cannot help my love for it. The anthology nature of the show always drags me in and the cumulative effect of the episodes adds up to an adoration that is more than the sum of its parts. Each season has told stories about the impact of technology on human relationships, fluctuating between far futures and tangible tomorrows, stories that have consistently had a huge impact on me. Sometimes it faces us with unstoppbale plunges into despair (like "Shut Up and Dance"), sometimes it gives us a ray of hope (with "San Junipero") and then sometimes, it does "Bandersnatch". "Bandersnatch" is one of my favourite episodes of the show because it experimented with the possibilities that have opened up in the last decade, using Netflix's interactivity features to tell a story that is insane and genius and somehow can still come together to tell a satisfying narrative. Finally, I also have love for the show because it was the first thing I saw at my first London Film Festival. Brooker came out, showed "Nosedive" and then did a talk afterwards. He is one of my favourite comedians, writers and personalities and getting to feel that personal connection has undeniably elevated the show more for me than for many others.
The characters on It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia are some of the worst humans ever put on screen. They have joked about and partaken in hate crimes, black face, abortion, murder, divorce, incest, death, dead babies, homelessness, drug addiction, mutilation, mental illness, women, children, Nazis and sodomy. However, the masterstroke of the show has been that it never wants us to like or empathise with these characters. They are some of the worst people alive and presented explicitly as such. The active contempt that every other person in the show holds for them is where the comedy comes from and it's why the show can tackle such taboo subjects with such ease. By now, the show has been on for so long that it is the longest running live action sitcom ever and due to being on for such an impressive length of time, it has had incredible freedom to play, both with its characters and its presentation. I find the character development particularly incredible. A character like Cricket has gone from priest to homeless drug addict, Dennis has gone from handsome bartender to potential murderer and Mac has gone from fat and unknowingly camp to ripped and proudly gay. Their transformations have been slow, but therefore weirdly believable. The high amount of episodes also means that there have been first person episodes of the show, multiple fantasy versions of the same event and numerous homages to works of absurdist literature. How It's Always Sunny has endured and remained so entertaining confounds me, but I am more than happy to sit back and let these hysterically horrible people wash over me, again and again and again.
I am consistently frustrated by how little attention Fargo gets. I know that an anthology spin-off from a critically acclaimed nineties movie isn't exactly the easiest pitch, but this is a show that has never failed to fill me with pure joy. It isn't an anthology in the way that Black Mirror is though. Instead, Fargo makes every season its own story. They aren't entirely unconnected, some characters and locations reoccur, but they can be enjoyed individually. By using this structure though, each ten episode arc becomes its own miniseries, giving enough time to allow full and complete exploration of all the characters. That anthology nature also means that bigger name actors feel no hesitance in doing the show as there aren't such long term commitments, which has lead to high profile actors turning up and putting in amazing performances. Martin Freeman, Billy Bob Thornton, Kirsten Dunst, Ewan McGregor, Mary Elizabeth Winstead and David Thewlis are just a handful of my favourites throughout the show, all creating unforgettable roles that have stayed with me since I first saw them. As for what the show does, it's similar to the film in a loose sense. All of the stories are primarily dramatic, with very dark, blood red, comedic edges, all focusing on stories about good people making stupid mistakes and spiraling down into a very bad world. The thrills are top tier, the music is incredible and the presentation is gorgeous, using camera trickery or pleasing framing devices to enhance what are already brilliant stories. If I'm honest, my biggest complaint about the show is that I can't get all of it on blu-ray. I wish there was a way to support the show and get high quality copies of it, but I know it's a dying medium, this is a niche request for a niche show. Otherwise, now is the perfect time to jump in, with a fourth season on the horizon, this time starring Ben Whishaw, Chris Rock and Jessie Buckley. Do I think you'll love it? You betcha.
That Twin Peaks: The Return is only the fourth best show of the decade is pretty ridiculous, but at this point, we're pretty much talking about my favourite shows ever made, which The Return certainly comes under. The original Twin Peaks was an iconic show as soon as it premiered, turning the question of "Who Killed Laura Palmer?" into a global conundrum. As a die-hard David Lynch fan, I love the original series and appreciate how it pushed weirdness and hints of the surreal into mainstream television and though its production became rocky, it went out with a bang, whether by that you mean the last episode of season two or the insane prequel film Fire Walk With Me. In 2017, when Twin Peaks returned, people were excited, but completely in the dark about what to expect. We knew that Lynch directed every episode, that he had written them with his co-creator Mark Frost and we also had a complete cast list, which was a very weird list to say the least. Was this going to be a show based around the powerful nostalgia and warmth audiences feel for the characters of that sleepy Washington town? Was it going to be an 18 hour movie with ad breaks, split across 18 weeks? Was Lynch going to go full beans and carry on the level of insanity he peaked at with INLAND EMPIRE? Going in, we had no idea, but in hindsight it should have been obvious that it would be all three and, stumbling out after "Part 18", it felt like a seismic shift had occurred. Being the bridge between sixth form and university, the summer of 2017 was already going to be a weird summer for me but seeing The Return lay itself out, week by week, it felt like my universe was shifting. Things I had taken for granted about art and structure and TV were being obliterated, but in a way that was so very satisfying. Three years on, I am still processing what I saw, though there is one fact about the show on which my feelings are unambiguous; I absolutely loved watching it.
For its first six episodes, Bojack Horseman is exactly what it looks like it would be from the outset: it's a silly show about a cartoon horse, who used to be a sitcom star but is now a loser. It has some light comments and jokes to make about Hollywood, a few nice puns about animals and a visual style that does admittedly feel very unique. For the other 71 episodes though, it is groundbreaking, game changing TV. I've talked throughout this list about TV shows that experiment with their formats but Bojack Horseman is the absolute apex of that. Whether for hysterical jokes or deeper comments on Bojack's mental health, this is a show that was always willing to change up the formula. There's the episode completely free of dialogue, the episode that is one long monologue in a single room and there's the episode that's a meditation on life from the precipice of the great nothing. Due to the show being animated, it has none of the restrictions that many other comedies have and being on Netflix, it had far fewer obligations to traditional structure too. As well as that, it was a really profound look into mental health. Bojack is never diagnosed with anything explicitly in the show, but his thought processes and shitty self-destructive behaviour are regrettably familiar to many. Moving further out, other side characters in the show are better realised than most main characters in weaker shows. Diane is given an incredible arc that I, as an aspiring writer, am especially fond of, Princess Carolyn shows the difficulty of having it all in a world that barely lets women have one thing and Todd, on face value the ultimate comic relief character, gets enough time in the spotlight that his freewheeling chaos has an understandable poignancy. There are shows that are as funny as Bojack, there are shows that are as inventive as Bojack and there are shows that can be as heartbreaking as Bojack, but I know no other show that can do all three at once, to this level of excellence. No other show feels as true to our world as this show about a talking horse sitcom star. If that isn't a sign of an immaculately made show, what is?
Well well, look who's back! Feels like a while since we've talked about Breaking Bad, doesn't it? At this point, it's a cliche to say so but Breaking Bad is probably the greatest show ever made. By now, pretty much everyone has seen it, even my friends who don't really watch TV, and yet it is a show that contains such incredible power. As Walter White sets up in that very first episode, an episode that immediately announced that something incredible was happening, this is a show about change. About how characters change, about how situations change and about how that change can come completely from yourself. Honestly, I'm finding this hard to write about. Since the show ended in 2013, it feels like everything that can be said about the show has been said, so what point is there in going on further? The point is that the show has been finished for that long and still it inspires such a passion in me. Whenever anyone says they're finally watching the show, I get second hand excitement, reliving the show through their fresh eyes and envying that they have no clue what's about to come. You could argue that there are shows more sophisticated than Breaking Bad, many of which are on this list, but I'm secretly not very sophisticated (I know, a shock). The thing Breaking Bad does so well is that it really effectively mixes incredible thrills, either in the form of action set-pieces or new plot twists, with brilliant character building. Walter White is one of the defining characters of the decade and getting to see him transform into Heisenberg is why Breaking Bad deserves the mountain of acclaim it achieved. It is the drama I am most tempted to rewatch at any given moment and that is because of how brilliant every inch of its execution is. In the age of Peak TV, Breaking Bad may just be the peak.
Except for me, it obviously isn't the peak, because Community got out five and a half seasons this decade and is therefore automatically going to take the top spot. If this was a purely objective list, Community would not take the top spot, but this isn't that. This is my blog and by writing it for six years, I have the right to herald that show I like as the second coming of Christ, should I want to. And I do want to. Writing about Community now is interesting though, because the once small cult following it had has grown, especially in the past few months. After being put on Netflix worldwide, a whole new audience has discovered it and fallen in love just the way I have. I, myself, have been making the most of it and rewatching the show too and in doing so, I've been thinking about the legacy Community has had on me. When I first saw it, I think I was about 13, not particularly into films and unsure what the future was going to hold for me. While my actual Uni experiences haven't quite led me to a cast of characters this racially and religiously diverse, it has led me to groups of lovable misfits. In fact, every group of friends I've ever stumbled into has been a group of lovable misfits and Community taught me how to navigate them, odd as it sounds. Sometimes I'm the Jeff of the group, sometimes I'm the Abed, sometimes it even falls on me to be Pierce. Hell, with the way that my political opinions have developed, I see a worrying amount of myself in Britta at times. But I can make such tangible links like that because the characters the show draws are so exceptionally realised, both by the writers and the actors.
So that's TV out of the way. Next week, we'll be moving onto music, with both albums and songs getting their chance in the spotlight. I'd love for you to return, it means a lot to me.
If you talk to anyone who's made an effort to follow TV this decade, they'll tell you it was an amazing decade for TV, a real moment of "Peak TV". As the decade reached its end, that became exhausting for some (me included) but it can't be denied that we have seen some of the best shows ever made in the last ten years. Speaking of, I want to be clear how I'm judging release windows. Being ongoing by their very nature, measuring what decade a show came out is difficult, but I've generally considered a show worthy of the list if some of the best parts of it came out in the past decade. A couple of shows have sneaked in and had their finales in the first few months of this year, but their larger input was still last decade. For example, that means shows like Dexter or 30 Rock are out, due to being weighted towards the 2000s, whereas The Good Place and Mad Men do make the cut. And again, this is entirely my opinion. If you don't see a show you love, either I didn't like it as much as you or (far more likely) I never got around to taking it off "my list". Now that we've cleared that up though, let's get started!
21. GLOW
What seems on the outside like a slightly trashy TV show about women in skimpy outfits throwing each other across a ring has managed to emerge into a really powerful look at female friendship and allyship, as well as the ways that commerce can get in the way of genuine connection. Alison Brie and Betty Gilpin both tear up the screen in GLOW, a comedy that balances the fun with the serious in a way I am yet to get bored of.
20. Lovesick
The recent third series lacked the power of the two before but Lovesick soon stops being a show about a man getting an STI and quickly becomes about how messy and difficult it is to be a young adult who feels strongly about the people around them. Too many songs are on my Spotify playlists because of this show, not that I'll ever really complain about being reminded of Lovesick.
19. The Leftovers
For a while, The Leftovers is very depressing. It's a show about 2% of the world disappearing and the chaos this plunges everyone into, depressing is the clear emotional route. However, the show spreads its wings, throws off the shackles of misery and manages to tell a deep story about complex philosophy in a truly original way. It is also the only show on this list to feature "God Only Knows" by The Beach Boys, which doesn't hurt my adoration for it.
18. Maniac
Netflix has had a hit and miss record with its limited series but for me, Maniac marks the peak. It uses the platform to vary the episode lengths, as well as stretching the budget with many different locations and highly talented actors. For me though, the top tier production design sets it apart, creating a world that I still think about, years after the eight hours I spent with it.
17. The Little Drummer Girl
I saw The Little Drummer Girl on the big screen at the London Film Festival and in a way, it was a mistake. This is a deeply cinematic show (in case the director of Oldboy and the star of the upcoming Black Widow didn't tip you off) and the fact it is stuck on a small screen is a travesty. Regardless, it's worth a breezy little binge, even for people who aren't as obsessed with Florence Pugh as I am.
16. Inside No. 9
Though not the most well known anthology series this decade (more on that later), Inside No. 9 is a devious selection of episodes for viewers to dip into. Among them is a tale set in a hotel where every line is in iambic pentameter, an episode about crosswords and one of the greatest episodes of British television ever put on screen. Expect laughs, terror and a little sting in the tail with each bite from this playful box of chocolates.
15. Atlanta
After leaving Community, Donald Glover proved his insultingly high level of talent, first in his rap career and then with Atlanta. At first, it was a simple yet still enjoyable show about the rap scene in Atlanta but it soon became joyfully experimental. Highlights so far have included an episode based around a public access channel, a killer joke about an invisible car and "Teddy Perkins", an episode that dropped the comedy almost entirely and became a horror film. Though still only two seasons in, Atlanta shows no sign of losing the freshness that made it stand out this decade.
14. Fleabag
When the first season of Fleabag came out, I thought it was great, though didn't quite understand the astronomical hype. That all changed with the second season, a season that retroactively improved what came before (at least for me) and introduced one of the most memorable priest characters in any medium, through a performance from the immensely talented Andrew Scott. Phoebe Waller-Bridge may not have necessarily changed the game (Michaela Coel's Chewing Gum did similar work before) but it showed the world how well that game could be played.
13. Mad Men
On a personal level, Mad Men is significant for me for two reasons. First, it served as an entry point to slower paced TV that focused more on characters, an entry I needed after over-saturating myself with action packed shows built on thrills. Second though, my obsession with it reached a point that it also became my longest binge in a single sitting. Over the course of one night, I watched 13 episodes of Mad Men, finally finishing at 6am, bleary-eyed and breathless. Don Draper and his fellow ad men (and women) were characters that made that level of obsessive watching both an ease and a joy.
12. O.J.: Made in America
Whether O.J.: Made in America should be classified as a TV show or a film is a tricky debate (it aired on ESPN but was Oscar nominated) but that debate is only frustrating because it overshadows discussion of how utterly brilliant this documentary is. I am a little bit obsessed with the O.J. Simpson story, a story I believe tells us more about America than any other real life story in the last thirty years, and this seven hour documentary does it incredible justice. I know, a seven hour documentary on this guy may seem excessive but you have to trust me, it needs all that time to properly tell the story. Like I said, it's not just the story of an American Football player turned (alleged) murderer, it's the story of America in the 20th (and regrettably, 21st) century.
11. Rick and Morty
A couple of years ago, Rick and Morty would have made it much higher up this list. It's not that the quality dropped off that much, though the second season has proven admittedly hard to top. No, it's a really annoying show to talk about because it has inspired a really toxic and entitled fan base, who pollute any conversation around the show. I could talk about the creativity in visual style, the experimentation with story structure or the really fun references but no, I have to talk about what babies the fan base are. Whenever I think of the show, I think of them. Rick and Morty remains a show highly worth watching, but I do find it harder to recommend as the years have gone on.
10. Planet Earth 2
David Attenborough has been a national treasure for longer than I've been alive and a show like Planet Earth 2 is a brilliant reminder as to why. It creates stories around the incredible animals we are lucky to share the earth with and reminds us that yes, we have to share this planet with them. It was the moment when all nature documentaries lost the ability to impartially observe have the world and had to acknowledge human culpability in destroying this planet we call home, an essential turning point. That would have been for nothing had it not been a drop dead gorgeous show, which became unexpected must see TV for the six weeks it was airing.
9. The Good Place
Look, The Good Place is brilliant, but it's very difficult to talk about without ruining it. It's a comedy, built around characters you can't help but love, except it also has an incredible plot with twists that rival most dramas. As such, talking about pretty much anything that happens after season 1 is impossible, so I will have to talk vaguely about it. The Good Place is a story about a woman who dies and wakes up in The Good Place (a religiously ambiguous version of heaven). The issue is, she isn't meant to be there and must try and learn ethics and philosophy in secret, to actually earn her place in The Good Place. Weirdly, the philosophy of the show is what I most adore and the finale doubles down on that with one of the most satisfying finales in TV history. There is only one other comedy that so perfectly balanced character driven comedy, meditations on mortality and pleas to love those around you and we will be getting to that later on. For now though, The Good Place is four seasons of comedic joy, haunted by existential terror and cosmic love. Of course I fell for it.
8. Hannibal
Something about a show getting cancelled always seems to enhance its legacy and there are few finer examples than Hannibal. It takes stories of the famous cannibal that we already know and applies them to the episodic nature of TV, while somehow never skimping on the gore. Some of the murder scenes in this show are haunting, truly, though I won't explain any in case you've never had the "pleasure" of seeing them. Paradoxically, the show looks absolutely gorgeous at all times, as well as containing grisly murder. What better way to show audiences the mindset of a cannibal than to treat both food scenes and murder scenes with the same amount of visual excellence? There is one edit in particular, of melting butter, that is one of the most beautiful scene transitions in any visual medium. It's strange because it's hard to explain the appeal of Hannibal, though I can say confidently that it was a show that was always either thrilling with its forensic investigation, delightful in the interplay between characters or haunting with its tales of horrific murders. Go on, take a bite, try it yourself. I dare you.
7. Black Mirror
I know, I know, Black Mirror is one of those shows that has become a meme in and of itself in recent years and had a debatable drop in quality, but I cannot help my love for it. The anthology nature of the show always drags me in and the cumulative effect of the episodes adds up to an adoration that is more than the sum of its parts. Each season has told stories about the impact of technology on human relationships, fluctuating between far futures and tangible tomorrows, stories that have consistently had a huge impact on me. Sometimes it faces us with unstoppbale plunges into despair (like "Shut Up and Dance"), sometimes it gives us a ray of hope (with "San Junipero") and then sometimes, it does "Bandersnatch". "Bandersnatch" is one of my favourite episodes of the show because it experimented with the possibilities that have opened up in the last decade, using Netflix's interactivity features to tell a story that is insane and genius and somehow can still come together to tell a satisfying narrative. Finally, I also have love for the show because it was the first thing I saw at my first London Film Festival. Brooker came out, showed "Nosedive" and then did a talk afterwards. He is one of my favourite comedians, writers and personalities and getting to feel that personal connection has undeniably elevated the show more for me than for many others.
6. It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
The characters on It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia are some of the worst humans ever put on screen. They have joked about and partaken in hate crimes, black face, abortion, murder, divorce, incest, death, dead babies, homelessness, drug addiction, mutilation, mental illness, women, children, Nazis and sodomy. However, the masterstroke of the show has been that it never wants us to like or empathise with these characters. They are some of the worst people alive and presented explicitly as such. The active contempt that every other person in the show holds for them is where the comedy comes from and it's why the show can tackle such taboo subjects with such ease. By now, the show has been on for so long that it is the longest running live action sitcom ever and due to being on for such an impressive length of time, it has had incredible freedom to play, both with its characters and its presentation. I find the character development particularly incredible. A character like Cricket has gone from priest to homeless drug addict, Dennis has gone from handsome bartender to potential murderer and Mac has gone from fat and unknowingly camp to ripped and proudly gay. Their transformations have been slow, but therefore weirdly believable. The high amount of episodes also means that there have been first person episodes of the show, multiple fantasy versions of the same event and numerous homages to works of absurdist literature. How It's Always Sunny has endured and remained so entertaining confounds me, but I am more than happy to sit back and let these hysterically horrible people wash over me, again and again and again.
5. Fargo
I am consistently frustrated by how little attention Fargo gets. I know that an anthology spin-off from a critically acclaimed nineties movie isn't exactly the easiest pitch, but this is a show that has never failed to fill me with pure joy. It isn't an anthology in the way that Black Mirror is though. Instead, Fargo makes every season its own story. They aren't entirely unconnected, some characters and locations reoccur, but they can be enjoyed individually. By using this structure though, each ten episode arc becomes its own miniseries, giving enough time to allow full and complete exploration of all the characters. That anthology nature also means that bigger name actors feel no hesitance in doing the show as there aren't such long term commitments, which has lead to high profile actors turning up and putting in amazing performances. Martin Freeman, Billy Bob Thornton, Kirsten Dunst, Ewan McGregor, Mary Elizabeth Winstead and David Thewlis are just a handful of my favourites throughout the show, all creating unforgettable roles that have stayed with me since I first saw them. As for what the show does, it's similar to the film in a loose sense. All of the stories are primarily dramatic, with very dark, blood red, comedic edges, all focusing on stories about good people making stupid mistakes and spiraling down into a very bad world. The thrills are top tier, the music is incredible and the presentation is gorgeous, using camera trickery or pleasing framing devices to enhance what are already brilliant stories. If I'm honest, my biggest complaint about the show is that I can't get all of it on blu-ray. I wish there was a way to support the show and get high quality copies of it, but I know it's a dying medium, this is a niche request for a niche show. Otherwise, now is the perfect time to jump in, with a fourth season on the horizon, this time starring Ben Whishaw, Chris Rock and Jessie Buckley. Do I think you'll love it? You betcha.
4. Twin Peaks: The Return
That Twin Peaks: The Return is only the fourth best show of the decade is pretty ridiculous, but at this point, we're pretty much talking about my favourite shows ever made, which The Return certainly comes under. The original Twin Peaks was an iconic show as soon as it premiered, turning the question of "Who Killed Laura Palmer?" into a global conundrum. As a die-hard David Lynch fan, I love the original series and appreciate how it pushed weirdness and hints of the surreal into mainstream television and though its production became rocky, it went out with a bang, whether by that you mean the last episode of season two or the insane prequel film Fire Walk With Me. In 2017, when Twin Peaks returned, people were excited, but completely in the dark about what to expect. We knew that Lynch directed every episode, that he had written them with his co-creator Mark Frost and we also had a complete cast list, which was a very weird list to say the least. Was this going to be a show based around the powerful nostalgia and warmth audiences feel for the characters of that sleepy Washington town? Was it going to be an 18 hour movie with ad breaks, split across 18 weeks? Was Lynch going to go full beans and carry on the level of insanity he peaked at with INLAND EMPIRE? Going in, we had no idea, but in hindsight it should have been obvious that it would be all three and, stumbling out after "Part 18", it felt like a seismic shift had occurred. Being the bridge between sixth form and university, the summer of 2017 was already going to be a weird summer for me but seeing The Return lay itself out, week by week, it felt like my universe was shifting. Things I had taken for granted about art and structure and TV were being obliterated, but in a way that was so very satisfying. Three years on, I am still processing what I saw, though there is one fact about the show on which my feelings are unambiguous; I absolutely loved watching it.
3. Bojack Horseman
For its first six episodes, Bojack Horseman is exactly what it looks like it would be from the outset: it's a silly show about a cartoon horse, who used to be a sitcom star but is now a loser. It has some light comments and jokes to make about Hollywood, a few nice puns about animals and a visual style that does admittedly feel very unique. For the other 71 episodes though, it is groundbreaking, game changing TV. I've talked throughout this list about TV shows that experiment with their formats but Bojack Horseman is the absolute apex of that. Whether for hysterical jokes or deeper comments on Bojack's mental health, this is a show that was always willing to change up the formula. There's the episode completely free of dialogue, the episode that is one long monologue in a single room and there's the episode that's a meditation on life from the precipice of the great nothing. Due to the show being animated, it has none of the restrictions that many other comedies have and being on Netflix, it had far fewer obligations to traditional structure too. As well as that, it was a really profound look into mental health. Bojack is never diagnosed with anything explicitly in the show, but his thought processes and shitty self-destructive behaviour are regrettably familiar to many. Moving further out, other side characters in the show are better realised than most main characters in weaker shows. Diane is given an incredible arc that I, as an aspiring writer, am especially fond of, Princess Carolyn shows the difficulty of having it all in a world that barely lets women have one thing and Todd, on face value the ultimate comic relief character, gets enough time in the spotlight that his freewheeling chaos has an understandable poignancy. There are shows that are as funny as Bojack, there are shows that are as inventive as Bojack and there are shows that can be as heartbreaking as Bojack, but I know no other show that can do all three at once, to this level of excellence. No other show feels as true to our world as this show about a talking horse sitcom star. If that isn't a sign of an immaculately made show, what is?
2. Breaking Bad
Well well, look who's back! Feels like a while since we've talked about Breaking Bad, doesn't it? At this point, it's a cliche to say so but Breaking Bad is probably the greatest show ever made. By now, pretty much everyone has seen it, even my friends who don't really watch TV, and yet it is a show that contains such incredible power. As Walter White sets up in that very first episode, an episode that immediately announced that something incredible was happening, this is a show about change. About how characters change, about how situations change and about how that change can come completely from yourself. Honestly, I'm finding this hard to write about. Since the show ended in 2013, it feels like everything that can be said about the show has been said, so what point is there in going on further? The point is that the show has been finished for that long and still it inspires such a passion in me. Whenever anyone says they're finally watching the show, I get second hand excitement, reliving the show through their fresh eyes and envying that they have no clue what's about to come. You could argue that there are shows more sophisticated than Breaking Bad, many of which are on this list, but I'm secretly not very sophisticated (I know, a shock). The thing Breaking Bad does so well is that it really effectively mixes incredible thrills, either in the form of action set-pieces or new plot twists, with brilliant character building. Walter White is one of the defining characters of the decade and getting to see him transform into Heisenberg is why Breaking Bad deserves the mountain of acclaim it achieved. It is the drama I am most tempted to rewatch at any given moment and that is because of how brilliant every inch of its execution is. In the age of Peak TV, Breaking Bad may just be the peak.
1. Community
Except for me, it obviously isn't the peak, because Community got out five and a half seasons this decade and is therefore automatically going to take the top spot. If this was a purely objective list, Community would not take the top spot, but this isn't that. This is my blog and by writing it for six years, I have the right to herald that show I like as the second coming of Christ, should I want to. And I do want to. Writing about Community now is interesting though, because the once small cult following it had has grown, especially in the past few months. After being put on Netflix worldwide, a whole new audience has discovered it and fallen in love just the way I have. I, myself, have been making the most of it and rewatching the show too and in doing so, I've been thinking about the legacy Community has had on me. When I first saw it, I think I was about 13, not particularly into films and unsure what the future was going to hold for me. While my actual Uni experiences haven't quite led me to a cast of characters this racially and religiously diverse, it has led me to groups of lovable misfits. In fact, every group of friends I've ever stumbled into has been a group of lovable misfits and Community taught me how to navigate them, odd as it sounds. Sometimes I'm the Jeff of the group, sometimes I'm the Abed, sometimes it even falls on me to be Pierce. Hell, with the way that my political opinions have developed, I see a worrying amount of myself in Britta at times. But I can make such tangible links like that because the characters the show draws are so exceptionally realised, both by the writers and the actors.
We get to watch characters we love grow, alongside our own personal growth. That is why Community is my favourite show.I would also like to play apologist for the show. Seasons two and three are widely agreed to be, not just the highlight of the show but also, some of the best seasons of TV ever and rightly so. Season four is admittedly weak, but often seasons five and six are lumped in as "bad seasons". That is just flat out wrong. The show changed after season three, yes, with cast and behind the camera talent rotating in and out frequently, but it remained great, just in a slightly different way. Season five had Meow Meow Beenz, Pierce's funeral and the Ass-Crack Bandit, while season six had Chang in the performance of a lifetime, long-time side character Garrett getting married and of course, the absolutely wonderful finale. After being cancelled once (and clearly about to be cancelled a second time), not many shows get to provide a satisfying ending. Community did. It was able to take the time to reflect on what the show meant for the people who made it and the people who loved it, doing so in a way that offered endless comedic potential, felt true to the zany style of the show and also left room for a genuine emotional sucker punch. To this day, I still struggle when I hear "Ends of the Earth" play, because it takes me back to that study room, finally being forced to leave it. I fell in love with Community when I was 13. I'm almost 21 now. That's eight years of having a show with me and as I have grown, it has grown too. The beauty of TV is change. Walter White says it in Breaking Bad, Abed says it in the finale. We get to watch characters we love grow, alongside our own personal growth. That is why Community is my favourite show. Because in its own weird way, Community is me and I am Community. I wouldn't be who I am without it.
So that's TV out of the way. Next week, we'll be moving onto music, with both albums and songs getting their chance in the spotlight. I'd love for you to return, it means a lot to me.
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