With the end of the decade in television, 2019 left us with a fascinating snapshot of where the medium might go from here. Gone are the days of the prestige antihero show—replaced instead by stories of self-improvement, deliberately slower dramas, and comedies that turn tragic on a dime. There are more and more diverse filmmakers being given control, not just in front of the camera, but at the helm and in the writers’ room. But as TV learns to tell stories about the human condition from more specific points of view, the quality of the storytelling remains at an exceptionally high quality.
Honorable mentions: Watchmen (HBO), Green Eggs and Ham, season 1 (Netflix), When They See Us (Netflix), Chernobyl (HBO), The Magicians, season 4 (Syfy), Back to Life, season 1 (BBC One), Rick and Morty, season 4, episodes 1–5 (Adult Swim), Line of Duty, season 5 (BBC One), Good Trouble, seasons 1–2 (Freeform)
15) Perpetual Grace, LTD (Epix)
Slow as a tortoise and drier than the desert sun, Perpetual Grace, LTD might just be the most cinematic series of 2019—and certainly the most confident in taking a form many might see as inaccessible. It’s the most uncompromising Coen Brothers-style neo-western you’ll ever see, with breathtaking wide shots and liberal use of black-and-white giving weight to the many characters’ various regrets. Orphaned children, deadbeat parents, and adults with crushed dreams are at the heart of Perpetual Grace, but the show never leaves them to wallow in sadness. If you can vibe with its stone-cold deadpan humor, all of its long, drawn-out conversations should prove absolutely hilarious. It’s rare to find a series that never hurries, and rewards you for your time.
14) Billions, season 4 (Showtime)
After three seasons toying with the same formula, Billions finally found the perfect combination of elements to become the high-stakes financial thriller it’s always wanted to be. The show moves at a restless pace for something that mostly consists of strategy planning and flaunting of wealth. This isn’t a bad thing, though, because this fourth season always remembers to ground its shady dealings in the decaying souls of its characters, many of whom realize that you can only beat a billionaire if you play according to their rules. It’s bleak, yes, but reliable performances from Paul Giamatti and Damian Lewis, the comedic stylings of Kelly AuCoin and Dan Soder, and amazing breakout work from Maggie Siff and Asia Kate Dillion make that bleakness worth every dime.
13) Catastrophe, season 4 (Channel 4)
In 24 quiet, 20-minute episodes, Catastrophe completely deconstructs the romantic comedy while breathing new life into the tropes wasted by other films and TV shows in the same subgenre. It’s always been a series more concerned with the little things—no grand gestures and cheesy declarations of love—and for that it approaches the reality of marriage and commitment more closely than virtually anything else. Lead actors Rob Delaney and Sharon Horgan display uncannily lifelike chemistry, effortlessly pivoting from sweet to acidic whenever their characters need to. Meanwhile, Mark Bonnar, Ashley Jensen, and Daniel Lapaine fill in the corners with massively satisfying subplots. This ensemble comes together to form a portrait of one struggling relationship amid many other love stories, and the vows we keep renewing for other people.
12) Better Things, season 3 (FX)
The best-directed show of 2019 (and maybe even of the past few years), Better Things is a joy to behold just for its unassuming but absolutely brilliant grasp of the craft of filmmaking. Everything about it is greater than the sum of its parts, with every edit and piece of music exactly where it needs to be to elevate this story of the mundane into something magical in its normalcy. Lead actress Pamela Adlon (who also directs every episode) leads a cast of young women who all bring authenticity to even their characters’ worst behavior. No matter how frustrating the Fox family gets, Better Things‘ dissection of women’s relationships and their inner lives makes for some of the most poignant character work on television.
11) Russian Doll, season 1 (Netflix)
Russian Doll is whatever you make of it. Thankfully, nearly any interpretation of the Groundhog Day-esque series is satisfying to some degree, and this first season is more ambitious than most comedies are in their entire lifetimes. It wisely avoids easy answers, obscuring meaning with every reset but making every new (or old) detail a thrill to unpack. Few shows are this addictive to binge, especially because Russian Doll‘s directors so skillfully navigate the shift from dark comedy to straight-up psychological horror. If you come away from Russian Doll without having picked up a clear meaning, at least the ride was a blast. But if you do manage to connect with its narrative, chances are you’ll leave with a better appreciation for how we fit into each other’s lives.
10) BoJack Horseman, season 6, episodes 1–8 (Netflix)
Leave it to series creator Raphael Bob-Waksberg to make the most hopeful half-season of an animated show so terrifying at the same time. Any BoJack Horseman fan can see the car crash waiting to happen; because we finally get to see the titular horse (Will Arnett) on the upswing, that can only mean tragedy is coming fast. Still, every moment with these characters is either hilarious or surprisingly sweet—and every second of these eight episodes is vibrant with movement and color. For all of BoJack‘s incredibly mature engagement with heavy themes, it never forgets to also be a cartoon. It uses animation in increasingly creative ways, finding new visual metaphors to portray each character’s journey of self-improvement. Either that, or it delivers cartoon slapstick that’s as good as a classic Looney Tunes episode. BoJack may be nearing its end, but it’s nice to be reminded how much fun this show can be, too.
9) The Good Fight, season 3 (CBS All Access)
Lots of American dramas criticize the Trump administration, but none of them have the kind of crazed death wish that The Good Fight seems to have. This is a show that truly couldn’t care less if it offends the powers that be, ditching allegory and subtlety for fiery rage and direct-to-the-camera addresses. In this case, the bluntness of the show’s messaging works beautifully. What started out as a spin-off to another legal drama has morphed into a surreal satire about the America of today, with Christine Baranski, Sarah Steele, and Audra McDonald (among other terrific actors) being allowed to play complicated, morally grey characters. Through them, the show’s politics couldn’t be clearer, but they also couldn’t be more self-reflexive. There’s a different kind of thrill watching The Good Fight constantly question its own heroes, even as it swears at the president, daring him to get his shit together.
8) Documentary Now!, season 3 (IFC)
If you’re a fan of documentaries, it’s almost guaranteed that you’ll love Documentary Now! This mock-doc anthology series is clearly led by creators with an encyclopedic knowledge of the genre, as it skewers everything from true crime, to artist profiles, to sports docs, to self-centered travelogues disguised as journalism. There’s such immense love and care that goes into every episode; the way that Documentary Now! imitates is second-to-none, and the sheer number of jokes that it sneaks in to every half-hour is staggering. One can view the series as just a bunch of spoofs, but this writer believes that creators Fred Armisen, Bill Hader, Seth Meyers, and Rhys Thomas have lots of really juicy things to say about the genre. Documentary Now! becomes a reflection of how human beings can distort reality, how we package facts and fashion them into entertainment, and how we relate to people who’ve been reduced into characters.
7) Barry, season 2 (HBO)
One of the absolute best things about Barry is just how cleanly and precisely it’s made. Season 2 of this comedy-drama about a hitman turned aspiring actor more clearly takes its cue from directing regular (and overall legend) Hiro Murai—meaning that the show is now free from all narrative excess, and is absolutely chilling when its dark side comes out. By situating its protagonist between inescapable violence and the illusion of escape via acting, it finds some pretty distressing truths about the roles we’re all expected to play. Still, none of this would have the weight that it has without Bill Hader’s sensational lead performance, which somehow makes him (1) a charismatic leading man, (2) a truly versatile character actor, and (3) the best TV antihero since Philip and Elizabeth Jennings from The Americans. Barry only looks like it’ll get darker from here, and I for one don’t want to turn away.
6) Veep, season 7 (HBO)
Some viewers found Veep‘s still-excellent final season disappointing, which (for this particular viewer) is only a testament to the heights that HBO’s sharpest political satire reached throughout its run. If season 7 isn’t as funny, that’s because it aims to deliver on the tragic promises it made with the character of Selina Meyer (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) way back in the show’s pilot. Veep successfully charts Selina’s monstrous rise to power, as she engineers betrayals and compromises so awful that they can only leave you nervously holding your breath. But this is not to say that the series is no longer funny; it’s still one of the only shows that can earn loud belly laughs with every episode. The supporting cast remains as committed as ever (especially Timothy Simons as the gloriously idiotic Jonah Ryan), but no one takes the throne from Julia Louis-Dreyfus, whose Mad Queen reign is brutal, sad, and funny as all hell.
5) The Expanse, season 4 (Prime Video)
In the greatest TV drama glow-up since Halt and Catch Fire‘s final season, The Expanse has found a new aesthetic and a new level of maturity with its jump from Syfy to Prime Video. The show looks simply unreal, with visual effects that rival and outdo many Hollywood blockbusters and a sense of scale that you’d normally expect from a Denis Villeneuve film. But with this new look, The Expanse makes the decision to become even quieter and more subdued—resulting in the most sophisticated season of science fiction television within the last decade.
Season 4 is still steeped in lore, but more than ever it’s become primarily interested in the interactions between tribes of people whose first instinct is to attack whatever’s unfamiliar. There’s an unfortunate timeliness to the story of these 10 episodes, as it finds its characters refusing to work together on a malfunctioning planet. But even if The Expanse may not immediately give us the answers we seek, it’s a gift to breathe in every bit of its tense, paranoid atmosphere.
4) Broad City, season 5 (Comedy Central)
As the TV landscape evolves, there seem to be fewer single-camera comedies out there that are dedicated to being just silly, shenanigan-of-the-week sitcoms. And in 2019, we said goodbye to one of the best, Broad City. Even with the final season’s increased emphasis on character development, it continues to up the ante on Abbi and Ilana’s (Abbi Jacobson and Ilana Glazer, respectively) hijinks. The series is even goofier and more unapologetically raunchy in its last 10 episodes, unwilling to give in to contrived drama.
This doesn’t mean that Broad City doesn’t have its own share of moving character moments because it has those in spades. The relationship between Abbi and Ilana is one of TV’s best friendships, speaking directly to the common millennial experience of not wanting to grow up and not wanting to stay useless at the same time, And because the real Abbi and Ilana are best friends in real life, their characters’ realization of their individual wants and needs is even more emotional to watch. It’s been a real blessing to see these two women portrayed so authentically.
3) Primal, episodes 1–5 (Adult Swim)
In case you didn’t already know from the final season of Samurai Jack, Genndy Tartakovsky is a genius. And last year, with just five episodes of his new show, he proves his genius again. Primal is an adult cartoon that is entirely devoid of dialogue and is even more brutal than you might expect. Its action sequences are immaculate and its animation fully embraces the beauty and the danger of the naked natural world.
But what keeps Primal from being just a fancy demo reel is the fact that Tartakovsky still somehow finds a way to communicate character and thematic ideas through pure imagery. It’s filmmaking at its most elemental. So while we may not know too much about the series’ central caveman and T. rex, we understand with full clarity the codes of honor that they live by, and the rituals that keep the circle of life moving for every species and tribe. This is a silent cartoon with an actual narrative running through it about the cycles of violence we indulge in, and it’s unparalleled.
2) Succession, season 2 (HBO)
Widely considered the drama to beat going into this year’s Emmys, the second season of Succession takes all of the best parts of its inaugural run and elevates them into the stratosphere. Gone is season 1’s purposeless mock-doc aesthetic; now the series locks in to every member of the imploding Roy family with an even sharper sense of humor and a more dizzying sense of distrust between every sibling and parent. Terrifically dense characterization makes every person’s true motives impossible to judge, but only reveals an even deeper sadness of a family that has always been more of a business.
If Succession continues to have rivals in terms of writing and direction, it is simply unmatched in terms of its performances. Kieran Culkin, Matthew Macfadyen, and Nicholas Braun all brandish perfect comedic timing, Brian Cox and Sarah Snook are devilishly charming as the family schemers, and Jeremy Strong—perhaps the best actor on TV, bar none—is so good as a soulless shell seeking validation that we might as well give him the Emmy right now.
1) Fleabag, season 2 (BBC One)
There is a real strong case to be made for Fleabag as one of the best television shows ever made. Its unlikely romantic pairing of a reckless young woman (Phoebe Waller-Bridge) and an un-orthodox priest (Andrew Scott) leads to not only some of the funniest comedy of 2019, but some of the most touching portrayals of love, family, and self-betterment that one could ever hope to see. Phoebe Waller-Bridge and Andrew Scott are totally in sync, blocking and countering each other’s unrealistic hopes and demands—while the supporting cast (Brett Gelman, Olivia Colman, and MVP Sian Clifford) creates completely three-dimensional characters in minutes.
The wit and the sensitivity of its writing and its performances would be enough to make Fleabag a great show, but season 2 goes ahead and takes complete ownership of a literary device for itself. This show takes the fourth wall break and uses it in the greatest, most flawless way imaginable—immersing the audience entirely into its protagonist’s headspace, using our gaze to suppress and expose character, and ultimately rejecting our eternal presence. Fleabag not only validates the title character’s humanity, it validates us as participating audience members, reaffirming our importance. There will never be anything like it again.
Emil Reviews Things 