Here’s the thing about TV: Ok there’s actually a couple of things about TV that make it complicated for me to write about it.
I once did a handful of TV reviews for TheWrap, including one about a season of “Bojack Horseman.” I adore that show, but if you haven’t seen it, it’s damn near impossible to really describe. But here I am trying to make “Bojack” Season 5 make sense for anyone who might click on it. It was clear this season had some incredible highs, but also some uncharacteristic lows, and I didn’t have the words to say why I was giving it a good review while also trying to say how weird and frustrating a season it was. Suffice it to say, the whole thing did not go well.
But here’s another thing: I probably watch more TV than the average person, but I also have a ghastly number of blind spots, and no, I will not be sharing what they are. I almost refuse to truly binge a show in the way most do, and I’d rather catch up on old movies rather than six seasons of some cultish sitcom I keep hearing about.
TV is also inherently hard to pin down. Saying a show is the best of the decade by no means makes it perfect. Individual episodes of some of these shows are straight up bad, if not entire seasons! Others have not been on the air long enough to really have those problem episodes that will change the perception of the show over time, but they feel like important statements that will last even if they ended today.
So these are the 10 shows, in alphabetical order, that meant the most to me this decade and ones I know I’ll come back to time and again.
Atlanta
Surreal, smart and hilarious, it took all of three episodes before “Atlanta” evolved from a gritty almost docu-series to being a full on auteur statement from Donald Glover. It was never shy to experiment and bend genre to its will, nor did it ever try to explain blackness to a white audience like myself. The show as a whole captures the essence of a community better than any other show, but “Atlanta” is most about the episodes: the black Justin Bieber, the black Charlie Rose-esque talk show “B.A.N.,” Alligator Man, that party at Drake’s house, and above all, Teddy Perkins, a short film that melds “Get Out” and Michael Jackson in a way no one saw coming.
Barry
The premise of a stoic hitman turned actor doesn’t begin to capture the gravity, intensity and uproarious dark humor of “Barry,” Bill Hader’s sensational HBO comedy. It’s phenomenally acted, wonderfully shot and frequently tragic while also being a great, deadpan satire of Hollywood up-and-comers. Hader has proven himself to be a masterful performer and even director with his Coen Brother-esque “ronny/lilly.” But my favorite stand-out will always be Anthony Carrigan as NoHo Hank, a character so loveable and well-drawn you’re amazed they ever thought about killing him off in the pilot.
Bojack Horseman
The most sobering and complex portrait of depression, addiction and loneliness on television is also a cartoon starring a talking sitcom horse that’s rife with animal puns and insider Hollywood nonsense. And after six seasons, it doesn’t feel odd to say that any longer. That’s because Raphael Bob-Waksberg’s show has continued to deepen its characters and surprise with formally brilliant episodes, like an entire episode of Bojack’s eulogy for his mother, or an underwater excursion that plays like a beautiful silent film. The show ended this decade on a cliffhanger halfway through its final season, and it’s gotten so deep and emotional that I genuinely don’t know whether I want these characters to find the redemption they so crave.
Breaking Bad
I got into “Breaking Bad” as part of the Netflix-binge era, so Walt’s descent into evil felt far more immediate than the slow burn seen by the fans who spread out five years seeing it on AMC. Though “binge” is not how I would describe my watching experience with “Breaking Bad.” Each episode was so heavy and immense that it demanded some time to process before diving back in. The show is lasting and perfect for how it sustained that tension and grief throughout its run, and like “The Sopranos” before it, the show was never about the crime, the meth or the violence but the character drama surrounding it all. Oh yeah, and I prefer the perfect ambiguity of Jesse’s escape in the finale to the resounding shrug that is “El Camino.”
Fleabag
“Fleabag” might’ve been eligible for this list even if it ended after its first season, which Phoebe Waller-Bridge adapted from her own play and made so snappy and self-assured from its first seconds that you knew it was destined to be a new classic. That said, the show has gotten even better as it examines insecurity and sexuality and does so through a lens of family, religion and modern feminism. Waller-Bridge feels like a voice of a generation, and thank god for Olivia Colman as the stepmother always there to cut her down to size.
Game of Thrones
The eighth and final season to “Game of Thrones” left such a bad taste in my mouth, as I know it did for many, that it has practically tarnished the legacy of the show for good. But that can’t erase the hours of drama that came before it. The war sequences are some of the best filmmaking television has ever had to offer, and it remains groundbreaking for being a show willing to ruthlessly pull the rug out from under you and kill anyone you might’ve grown too attached to. I confess, I looked on IMDB and knew that Tyrion et al would survive for years to come, but my roommate was sly enough to let my dumb ass be fooled as to why Sean Bean wasn’t a bigger star right now. As a result, I still got wrapped up in that surprise, spectacle and lively debate that no cultural event this decade has been able to match.
Girls
“Girls” is the pivotal” example of a show that was fodder for endless think pieces, controversy and debate even as not a ton of people actually watched it. The first season is just about perfect, encapsulating the millennial experience in a way that was ahead of its time and set the stage for millions of burgeoning writers, critics and feminists online and on TV. Other seasons were more problematic, a word I hate, but then this show was that. Lena Dunham remains a gifted physical comedian and genius writer, and she managed to tell subversive stories from multiple perspectives even as its characters became increasingly awful, unlikable individuals. In a way, it’s the pivotal show of the 2010s, capturing everything you’ve loved and loved to hate this decade.
The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel
I initially feared that like “Gilmore Girls” before it, this Amy Sherman Palladino show would be non-stop energetic, gratingly cheerful, snarky and unabashedly Jewish. Color me surprised that it’s all of those things in spades and I love it. “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel” leans into its quirks with gusto and is a joy to watch, ebullient and hilarious from start to finish in every episode. I concede that this season that just debuted on Amazon, we started to see some of its seams and weaknesses, with too much coming easy for Midge and the show favoring colorful set pieces over stakes and conflict. But these are nitpicks in a show that’s so sure of itself and never seems to grow old.
Parks and Recreation
Conveniently, the pretty terrible first season and the bulk of the solid but still trying to be “The Office” second season of “Parks and Recreation” all took place before 2010. Once it got into the new decade and Ben Wyatt and Chris Traeger showed up, “Parks and Rec” became the nicest show on television. The cast seemed cut from a different cloth of charm that we didn’t get in a decade full of anti-heroes, jackasses and lunatics on TV. What’s more, we knew every character’s relationship with each other. The show had a richness and verve that was felt in every episode, and even the political episodes done at the height of the Obama era election still feel scarily relevant. This is a show that will be endlessly binge-able and in the pantheon of great TV sitcoms for years to come. Just start at Season 3.
Stranger Things
I think a lot of critics are hesitant to shower “Stranger Things” with praise as though it’s too formulaic or too much of a rehash of Spielbergian tropes and ‘80s nostalgia. But no show is as engrossingly watchable and rewatchable. In fact, it’s almost more like three eight-hour movies, with each new year being called “Stranger Things 2” and “3” rather than individual “seasons.” Episodes don’t stand out on their own, but it’s masterfully paced and very well made, and the show’s charm and creativity have helped make phrases like “The Upside Down” part of the cultural lexicon. This is a show I’ll rewatch with my kids in the same way I might with “E.T.” Side note: that stray episode with Eleven and those other punk kids in Season 2 is THE WORST.
Veep
“Veep” probably should’ve ended after season 4, when Selina Meyer and her opponent end election night in a dead tie, an ambiguous cliffhanger that captures the endless gridlock and frustration with American politics in the 2010s perfectly. Armando Iannucci left the show shortly after that, and “Veep” got crueler and more Trumpian. It never did reveal Selina’s party affiliation and drew from skull-duggery on both sides of the aisle. But the show was at its best when Selina was still the Veep and everyone weren’t jerks but were ineffectual assholes, always scrambling to save face while standing for nothing and never accomplishing anything. Still, Julia Louis-Dreyfus is a legend, and the constant ridicule and cut downs aimed at Jonah Ryan, a.k.a. Tall McCartney, never got old.
11 More I love:
Last Week Tonight
Like Jon Stewart before him, John Oliver became the one late night political show that is consistently essential viewing, and he did so by making an in-depth, incisive show that is nothing like “The Daily Show.”
Master of None
This was Aziz’s auteurist comedy turn in a decade with many of them in the post-“Louie” era. It didn’t always stick the landing, but those that did had the heart and humor of some of the best rom-coms.
Better Things
Another show that managed to claw its way out of the “Louie” shadow, Pamela Adlon does it all on her deeply personal show that’s freeform, bracingly honest and often painfully hilarious.
Documentary Now
“Documentary Now” admittedly has a niche that I am squarely in, but even though its documentary parodies are so richly detailed, they hold up even if you’ve never seen “Jiro Dreams of Sushi” or a Maysles brothers film.
Key & Peele
I will watch “East/West Bowl” till the end of time.
30 Rock
“30 Rock” is a 2000s show, plain and simple, but there’s still some great stuff in the later seasons, and its manic, irreverent and brainy sensibility can be seen on dozens of shows this decade.
Boardwalk Empire
Remember this show? “Boardwalk” was visually sumptuous, tense, bleak and was best enjoyed with a splash of bourbon.
Episodes
It works better if you’ve lived in or worked in Los Angeles for part of your life, as it’s a hilarious farce about the entertainment industry matched only by “Bojack Horseman.” And Matt LeBlanc plays a wonderful asshole version of himself.
The Handmaid’s Tale
The first season of “Handmaid’s” is jaw-dropping, masterful, sharply relevant and unbearably hard to watch but oh so good. The second season breaks from the book and has some equally sensational episodes, but its ending is so wrong, and I couldn’t even bring myself to watch more than an episode of the third season, which is depressing and miserable without saying anything meaningful.
Brooklyn Nine Nine
It’s hard to find a more consistently silly sitcom. I would argue it’s been the same since day one and has never evolved or changed, and that’s a blessing and curse. Andy Samberg is my hero.
Portlandia
So many sketches were hit and miss, and it’s the odd sketch comedy show that plays better watched as a full episode rather than in chunks, but when it was on point, it was a smarter satire of hipster culture in the 2010s than anything.