The Best TV of the Decade: A 2010s Television Retrospective
Yes, dear readers, I have decided to start the end of 2022 with a bang by returning to the end of 2019. What is Pandemic TV Time, anyway?
The pandemic has lasted millennia, fundamentally changing my relationship to TV viewing; for the first time, I am seriously revisiting older content, diving back into old favs, engaging through a contemporary lens, and exploring The Discourse both from back then and now—I love understanding how something was received in (and out) of its time. And it turns I’m not alone (welcome to the era of the [celebrity] re-watch pod)! In the beforetimes (early 2020, maybe late 2019, who can say), I was consumed by a drive to consume only novel, strange, and innovative content. But I also justified watching a lot of not-great TV by unhappily indulging my completionist tendencies, as well as through the belief that I could learn just as much from bad TV as good TV.1 Ultimately, as many of you probably already know, there’s something both comforting and invigorating about taking in something you know well at a new stage of life.
And so, at the end of 2022, as I lean into developing that good old End-Of-Year content, I wanted to look back, not just to old TV but to old TV writing. Especially writing never posted in this space (not even when I imported my old Blogger posts).
In 2019, for my then part-time job at a public library, I came up with a list of my top shows of the 2010s. It was constrained in a few ways (i.e., by what the library owned on DVD, the need to point to specific seasons as separate library items), but I then later adapted that list as a two-part post for a TVMaze (my viewing tracker of choice). I tried to make a balanced list, including comedies and dramas, network and cable offerings, streaming and broadcast content, critical darlings and popular hits.
What follows is a combo of that original library post, the TVMaze article, and some new ideas/cuts (sorry to Stranger Things, Handmaid’s Tale, Broadchurch, Orphan Black, and others). As we move into 2023, please enjoy this 2019 content! And a big welcome to new readers, largely joining me from over on Episodic Medium.
In the 2010s, streaming platforms like Netflix became behemoths as they made media consumption easier than ever (through their ever-growing monopolies and hoarding of content), before they began to fracture and multiply toward the end of the decade (i.e., the The Golden Age of Television giving way to Peak TV). This so-called golden age is often characterized by the rise of complex storytelling about white guy anti-heroes (from The Sopranos to Mad Men to Breaking Bad); one big challenge for shows about anti-heroes is that some portion of the audience often just loves the spectacle and gore, or sees the baddie as a model to emulate instead of as sad pathetic cautionary tales [like Bojack Horseman]. This growing and fracturing of the media landscape had its ups (a huge diversity of perspectives and voices got their own shows, from Donald Glover's Atlanta to Phoebe-Waller Bridge's Fleabag to Ryan Murphy's Pose) and downs (more to pay, a lot more awful and mediocre content to sift through).
So much TV has aired that it's now impossible for any one person to have watched every contender for Best Show. What follows, in no particular order, is a list of my favs—acknowledging that plenty of other great TV exists that I just never watched (e.g., Barry, The Americans). And since I could only include DVDs the library owned, I have not included some of the absolute best: shows like Community (too old), You’re the Worst (a glaring gap in our collection), or Transparent (no DVDs exist).2 Here we go!
Bojack Horseman (Netflix, 2014-2020; 6 Seasons), an animated dark comedy about a washed-up anthropomorphic horse who starred in a 90s sitcom that also somehow manages to be one of the most real and thought-provoking show on television, is the perfect climax to and synthesis of TV in the 2010s. Bojack is not a likeable horse man. He is obviously not to be emulated. And yet he is the show’s (anti)hero; we follow him down deep dark spirals (Will Arnett at his sad and most broken best) and into possible consequences in a way that shows like Breaking Bad never quite managed. The first half of Bojack S1 is mediocre (some argue on purpose), but once the show revealed its true self (especially in S2/23), I couldn't look away. The animated medium allows for silly visual gags AND unique renderings of issues like alcoholism, sexism, dementia, and depression. Part meditation on loneliness, part critique of Hollywood and media culture—come for the animal puns, stay for the raw and upsetting conversations between damaged people building, breaking, and mending relationships.
The Leftovers (HBO, 2014-2017; 3 Seasons) has a simple premise: When 2% of the population disappears, how do we move on? Instead of fixating on why this happened, the show paints an intimate portrait of the many faces of grief. While science fiction or supernatural phenomena may exist in the world of The Leftovers, their presence is almost always ambiguous, and they come a distant second to character development. S1 is likely the weakest and most depressing season (it's still very good), while S3 goes to more abstract places that may not appeal to everyone. In S2 though, a narrow focus on a small town unaffected by The Departure really helps ground the show. Written by LOST's Damon Lindelof (working through similar themes of science/faith, loss and moving on, character over mystery), The Leftovers, based on the Tom Perrotta novel of the same name, uses many of the same tools even better—flashbacks, slow-burning mysteries, and character-centric episodes. The stellar cast includes Carrie Coon, Christopher Eccelston, Ann Dowd, and Justin Theroux. Importantly, the contract you make with this show is clear from the start: You probably won’t get the answers you feel you need, but are answers even really the point? I recommend this show with the caveat that it does not have a huge amount of action; it's about sadness, you know?
The Good Place (NBC, 2016-2020; 4 Seasons) successfully combined philosophy with mainstream comedy to create a weird, joyful, and moving experience. Eleanor Shellstrop (Kirsten Bell) has died, arriving in The Good Place—except she doesn't belong there, it was a mistake, she should be in The Bad Place. Hijinks and personal growth ensue as she learns how to be a good person from her assigned soulmate / professor of moral philosophy / best character on any show ever who I definitely don’t over-identify with, Chidi (William Jackson Harper). Despite its format (30-minute comedy), it actually has a lot in common with shows like LOST or This Is Us (at least in S1; see below), including slow world-building, flashbacks, and twisty reveals. Mike Schur (the showrunner, also of The Office, Parks and Recreation, and Brooklyn 9-9 fame) sat down with Lindelof (of LOST) to discuss how to tell mystery-box stories. And it works, somehow, as a comedy! While later seasons continue to be funny and moving (including one of the best series finales of all time), nothing has quite the shine of S1. For the decade's most thoughtful comedy, check out The Good Place.
The Knick (Cinemax, 2014-2015; 2 Seasons): While most period dramas frame their commentary through the lens of nostalgia, The Knick pulls no punches in showing its audience the early 1900s—an era in which surgery barely worked, syphilis killed (or took your nose), and where Reconstruction had failed and Jim Crow was the norm. Few of the characters are remotely likable; most can barely contain their explicit white supremacy, when they aren't managing addictions to cocaine or learning about and engaging in eugenics. I would recommend The Knick if you like grimdark, if you can stomach witnessing the values of this time period enacted, where the storytelling does not handhold you through discomfort, and if you want a fascinating medical drama unlike any I've ever seen. Not for the faint of heart (the show can be quite graphic, even for a medical drama) and it's totally understandable if the racism is too much. S1 is the stronger of the two (it has such a solid start), but both are fantastic.
Fleabag (Amazon Prime, 2016-2019; 2 Seasons)—a show based on a one-woman play—took the world by storm after it ended. A dark comedy about a woman (the titular Fleabag) navigating grief, self-loathing, and difficult relationships with family (Olivia Coleman!), friends, and partners—Phoebe Waller-Bridge (creator, writer, star) uses fourth-wall breaking asides masterfully to wring humour and sadness from every moment. While S2 is regarded as the better one—more inventive, more abstract, more empowering—S1's straightforwardness makes it more readily accessible and affecting. If S2 explores healing, S1 explores falling apart; both are absolute masterpieces. Fleabag represents the pinnacle of the 'Auteur Television' genre, in my view (e.g., Atlanta, Better Things), and if you only watch one show this year, make it Fleabag!
Watchmen (2019), an hourlong limited series focused on police brutality and white supremacy, is a modern deconstruction of (white super)heroism. A sequel of sorts to the classic Cold War graphic novel of the same name, knowledge of the comics is rewarded but not required. It won numerous Primetime Emmys (for lead actress, for limited series) and is credited with bringing the history of the Tulsa Massacre into mainstream public consciousness. Another show by Damon Lindelof; if LOST was Lindelof working out his anger at his father, and The Leftovers was about his depression and burgeoning hope, some say Watchmen is a love letter to mothers.
Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (The CW, 2015-2019; 4 Seasons) the quintessential 21st century messy “Bad Feminist” show, might be about mental illness—but we’ll only really dig into that in S3. In its earlier seasons, Crazy Ex focused on gender politics, romantic obsession, and provided incisive political commentary in the form of satirical parody music videos. Showrunner Aline Brosh McKenna, likely best known for her screenplay for The Devil Wears Prada, originally developed Crazy Ex as a 30-minute comedy for Showtime; it was not picked up and was then entirely retooled (with a reduced budget) into a 42-minute dramedy for the CW. It stars Rachel Bloom (previously best known for, you guessed it, parody music videos) as Rebecca Bunch (a role for which she won a Golden Globe), a burnt-out high-powered New York lawyer who moves to the West Coast for a change of pace after running into her teenage crush / teen drama camp boyfriend, Josh Chan. Will she make Josh fall in love with her? Should the audience even be rooting for this deeply troubled woman? Find out, on Crazy-Ex Girlfriend!
Spartacus: Blood and Sand (Starz, 2010-2013; 4 Seasons), a real underappreciated and forgotten gem, provided stylized gore like the movie 300, but on a TV budget. It was big and sexy and weirdly progressive—or perhaps not so weirdly, given the slave rebellion at its core. The show ultimately had a big heart, and its own strange almost medieval vernacular (“WELL MET, FRIEND”, “WELL RECEIVED”) and swear words built around the anatomy of Roman Gods. Unfortunately, Andy Whitfield, who played Spartacus in S1, passed away between seasons (leading to a prequel season). While Liam Mcintyre did an excellent job in his stead, that first season was just so good—even as the show grew in scope, confidence, and ambition. Spartacus was one of the first truly epic shows I’d ever watched, and it still holds a special place in my heart.
This Is Us (NBC, 2016-2022, 6 Seasons) Season 3 (spoilers for the first three seasons) delved deeper into the past and farther into the future than ever before. We learned about Jack and Nicky's tumultuous childhood and difficult experiences in Vietnam, Beth and Randall went through a rocky period in the present, and we witnessed tiny glimpses of a future some 15-20 years from now. While This Is Us has always been exceptional television and heartrending melodrama, both in terms of its use of narrative devices like flashbacks to connect thematic content across time and its strong writing and character development, S3 really demonstrated how effectively it wove its stories. S1 was great (introducing us to the characters and providing twists and turns through early flashbacks), but S2 took a bit too long to draw out the grief and the mystery behind the show's central tragedy. Although the show absolutely flagged in its later seasons, and I’m honestly not sure how to feel about S6 (I spent a couple weeks emotionally drained after binging it in just a few days), in many ways, it always seemed to me to have been one of the few LOST-alikes to succeed, building out character over opaque mystery. So, if you like TV that makes you laugh and sob, and genuinely clever writing, this popular AND critical darling is the show for you!
Atlanta (FX, 2016-2022; 4 Seasons) represents the best of the 30-Minute Dark Auteur Comedy genre (right up there with Fleabag), beating out (IMO) similar shows like Master of None, Better Things, and Insecure. And like those shows, Atlanta’s vibe is a sometimes-strange blend of serialized storytelling, standalone vignettes and episodes, and surreal cultural commentary. It meditates on issues ranging from race and racism to parenthood and women’s liberation, and it isn't always laugh-out-loud funny—instead, it's often shocking or surprising in its funnier moments. All I can really say is that Donald Glover is a unique voice (as a comedian and actor, as a television writer, and as a musician) and Atlanta is one of the most interesting shows of the 21st century. It won the Golden Globe and TCA for best comedy for its first season (Glover won the TCA for acting) and was heavily nominated for the Emmys in its second. Please note that I am a monster and haven’t watched S2 (or beyond) yet—forgive me.
Penny Dreadful (Sky Atlantic/Showtime, 2014-2016; 3 Seasons): Absolutely stunning. Part League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, part Gothic Horror - with one of the best casts on TV (Eva Green, Timothy Dalton, Billie Piper, Rory Kinnear). I tried watching the pilot years ago and was turned off by the exceptional gore, but then a friend convinced me to continue watching (with them, not alone), and the rest of the show never rose anywhere near that level of violence again. Still, fair warning that it's quite intense at times and isn't for everyone. Filled with beautiful Gothic cinematography, haunting imagery and symbolism, and dark and broody characters, I would recommend this show for anyone who loves Horror or Classic Lit. The third and final season (alas, cancelled before its time) does contain some missteps, but each season has at least one standout episode that could easily win 'best episode of the year.'
Orange is the New Black (Netflix, 2013-2019; 7 Seasons) was one of the first ever Netflix original series (premiering right after the never-actually-good-and-somehow-much-worse-in-retrospect House of Cards and also Hemlock Grove). Based on Piper Kerman's autobiography of the same name, Orange is the New Black was both very well received as a first effort at prestige content for a streaming giant, and much maligned for its initially narrow focus on a 'fish-out-of-water' story about a well-off white woman trying to navigate the difficulties of prison life. However, as the series went on, it revealed a deeply political core (telling stories about solitary confinement, corruption, race, and transphobia), compassion for a broadening ensemble cast, and it introduced me to one of my favourite actors ever, Samira Wiley (as Poussay). Almost every character was a woman in a woman's prison - and that afforded it the ability to talk about wildly under-explored topics on TV. While not always graceful, especially in its later seasons, Orange is the New Black always swung big and had something interesting to say. S4 acted as a sort of mid-series climax—the best and worst of the show at once, after a strong ramp up and before the show's decline. I recommend this to anyone looking for diverse stories and characters, for a searing critique of the prison-industrial complex, or for a show about a huge number of complex women.
Legion (FX, 2017-2019; 3 Seasons) is part psychological thriller, part journey of self-discovery, and part surreal nightmare. I strongly recommend this if you like weird content. It's cryptic, directed stunningly (to confuse), and difficult to place in time. It becomes more and more inscrutable (and may even fall into incoherence) in later seasons, but the experience is just so strange and fun, that it absolutely deserves to be on this list. I wish I could say more, but it really has to be seen to be believed.
Schitt’s Creek (CBC, 2015-2020; 6 Seasons): A classic case of CanCon (Canadian Content) going viral internationally only as it reached its final seasons, Schitt's Creek is one of the most charming sitcoms of the 2010s. An incredibly wealthy family loses everything and has to start over in a small town they 'bought' as a joke. Adapting to a small-town (and frugal) lifestyle, S1 is mostly about wealthy absurdity. But as the show finds its rhythm in S2 and beyond (S4 is its strongest), the characters soften as they face the reality of their situation—and find happiness where they least expected. While the show was initially received as a one-note punchline, it grew into a hilarious show with a huge heart. Starring father-son duo Dan and Eugene Levy, as well as other giants of comedy like Catherine O'Hara, check out Schitt's Creek if you want a lighthearted sitcom, like watching people grow and change, or love silly wigs.
Counterpart (Starz, 2017-2019; 2 Seasons): By far the best noir spy thriller of the decade, Counterpart focuses on a sad-sack, played by JK Simmons, who works at a border crossing between parallel worlds. His 'other' is actually an incredibly competent super spy, and the circumstances of the show force them to work together. Counterpart asks complex questions about what makes us who we are. It's slow and character-driven, with some great spy action, but also confusing, and beautiful, and tragic, and compelling. The cast is fantastic (Olivia Williams! Harry Lloyd!). Both seasons are great, but S2 really drove home the quality. Too bad it was cancelled, though the second season finale can easily serve as a pretty good series finale too.
Game of Thrones (HBO, 2011-2019; 8 Seasons): I lied. I placed Game of Thrones at the end of the list on purpose. While early seasons (especially 3 and 4) felt incredibly exciting and fresh, with fantastic writing and acting, critics agree that the final seasons were narrative disasters. Fans know that the show (based on the books by George RR Martin) ran out of source material around S6, which made the final seasons feel like a bulleted list of plot devices and character-arc resolutions that the writers did not know how to develop. The complex web of plots that propelled its popularity ultimately contracted into its final two: 1) Fighting the White Walkers in the North; and 2) War in the South. Of course, contraction isn't a bad thing—it's how you wrap up a story—and even Martin seems to be having a rough time managing this challenge [as true in 2019 as in 2022]. However, when resolution and contraction begin to feel like a checklist rather than earned or rewarding payoff, something has gone terribly wrong. Still, there is no doubt that Benioff and Weiss (the showrunners) are masters of adaptation, effectively transforming long, complex novels into clear and concise TV scripts, even using some of Martin's book dialogue (for his part, Martin wrote one episode a season for the first four). With such strong early seasons, and for paving the way for more serious consideration of what were once considered 'fringe' or 'genre' shows, Game of Thrones deserves to be on this list, even though it would likely also sit atop a list of the most disappointing shows of the 2010s.
Thanks for reading, folks! Please feel free to discuss your favs and least favs in the comments!
That’s probably true—you learn lots from mistakes, especially when something that seems effortless goes unnoticed until someone does it badly elsewhere—but did I really need 8 seasons of Castle, 12 of The Big Bang Theory, or like 50 in the Vampire Diaries Universe?
[Yes to the Vampire Diaries, no to the rest]
Welp, that last example, chosen in 2019, didn’t quite hold up in the end, did it? Otherwise, Community really deserves a spot right at the top, despite this list’s lack of hierarchy. It’s probably my favourite sitcom of the last decade, and was the first show I re-watched during the pandemic. It taught me how to re-watch content and helped me explore how I felt about the show as it aired and in retrospect, especially with more metatextual information. It’s messy, especially S4 (gasleak season) and S5 (angry Harmon returns season), but I love it. This is the innovative, strange, and novel content I was looking for; it remains a cut above.