TV Technica 2021: Our favorite shows and binges helped us combat pandemic fatigue
Months of lockdown in 2020 meant fewer films but more quality TV content than ever before—much of it from streaming platforms rather than traditional broadcast television. Many of those shows were already in the pipeline, however. We feared the inevitable production shutdowns would result in fewer offerings for 2021, as the industry reckoned with rising production costs and the continued fallout from a pandemic that just keeps dragging on. And on.
Fortunately, while there were indeed some hiccups, we still had plenty of fantastic television on hand to take our minds off the grim daily reality, ranging from established franchises and quirky newcomers to imaginative adaptations and several foreign offerings that proved to be surprise breakout hits. With apologies to the many great series we just didn't have room for on this year's list, here are our favorite TV watches and binges for 2021, in no particular order:
Resident Alien
Geekerati icon Alan Tudyk plays an alien (with an unpronounceable name) disguised as a small-town doctor, Harry Vanderspiegle, who gets roped into solving murders, in Resident Alien. He learned English by watching Law & Order, so at least he has some of the lingo down. The sci-fi dramedy is based on the Dark Horse comics created by Peter Hogan and Steve Parkhouse. Harry's mission is to wipe out the human race for the good of the planet, but he finds himself wavering in his resolve the more time he spends in the small town of Patience, Colorado.
Harry is assisted by Asta Twelvetrees (Sara Tomko), who tutors him in basic social cues. He is tormented by a young boy name Max (Judah Prehn), the only person in town who can see Harry's true form. (Harry's attempts to kill Max to protect his alien identity are hilariously inept, and their mutual taunting eventually gives way to a grudging détente.) There's also the highly insecure town sheriff, Mike (Corey Reynolds), who insists on being called Big Black, and his long-suffering deputy, Liv (Elizabeth Bowen), who is far more competent than Mike thinks. Local bar owner D'Arcy (Alice Wetterlund) is a former Olympic skier who returned home after a career-ending injury. She and the promiscuous Julia (Jenna Lamia), who owns the bowling alley, vie (in vain) for Harry's romantic attentions.
Tudyk's comic gifts are central to the show's success, but he's ably supported by the rest of the cast, and the writers clearly love these small-town characters and have done a terrific job of mining them for humor while developing deeper narrative arcs. Bonus points for surprise cameos by Nathan Fillion as the telepathic voice of an octopus in a restaurant tank who converses with Harry—it's implied their respective species are closely related—and Linda Hamilton as General McCallister, who once saw a UFO as a child and has been hunting for proof that aliens exist ever since. Real-life ufologist Giorgio A. Tsoukalos, of Ancient Aliens fame (or meme-worthy infamy), also makes a brief appearance at a UFO convention in the S1 finale. Resident Alien is a comedic gem, and I can't wait for S2.
—Jennifer Ouellette, Senior Writer
Star Trek: Lower Decks
Two seasons in, and Star Trek:Lower Decks still seems to be a love-it-or-hate-it proposition for people who were weaned on the '90s Star Trek shows. Well, put me in the "love it" camp: of the four Trek shows currently airing, Lower Decks is easily my favorite.
Lower Decks succeeds because it knows its subject matter inside and out—it's a reference-heavy commentary on the original shows, but it also understands why The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, and Voyager all worked when they were firing on all cylinders. A typical episode of its more confident second season simultaneously parodies old Trek episodes while also just being solid-to-great episodes of Star Trek, and that makes it a refreshing break from the heavily serialized (and often exhausting) drama of Discovery and Picard.
—Andrew Cunningham, Senior Technology Reporter
Snowpiercer S2
Snowpiercer is TNT's TV adaptation of the 2013 film of the same name, directed by Bong Joon-ho, about remnants of humanity trying to survive an ice age inside a 1,001-car train. The train is run by a reclusive transportation magnate named Mr. Wilford, who has separated the passengers according to class and has a nefarious plan to ensure life on the train remains sustainable. The TV series is set seven years after the climate catastrophe that produced the "Freeze."
Daveed Diggs stars as Andre Layton, a prisoner at the tail end of the train who gets caught up in a revolutionary struggle against the imposed social hierarchy aboard Snowpiercer. Jennifer Connelly co-stars as first-class passenger Melanie Cavill, who is the Voice of the Train, responsible for daily public announcements and the train's smooth operation (both mechanically and socially).
S1 was a bit of a slow burn but kicked into high gear for the final few episodes, ending on a cliffhanger twist: the re-appearance of Mr. Wilford (Sean Bean), along with Melanie's presumed-dead daughter, Alex (Rowan Blanchard). Happily, the pacing issues have been resolved with S2.
Freed from the burden of building out an elaborate fictional world, showrunner Graeme Manson and his team of writers delved into the complicated relationships, political machinations, and shifting political loyalties that inevitably arose with Wilford's unexpected return. Ultimately S2 belonged to Sean Bean, whose portrayal of Wilford gave the series the charismatic, larger-than-life (human) villain it needed to really raise the emotional stakes. He brings just the right mix of sadistic flamboyance and playful cruelty to the character—the proverbial match thrown into what was already a potentially explosive situation.
—Jennifer Ouellette, Senior Writer
Wellington Paranormal
In the hellscape of 2020/2021, part of the reason so many people gravitate toward Ted Lasso is the show's wholesomeness, an all-too-rare blend of heart paired with humor perhaps last seen with The Good Place. But if you prefer that basic recipe with slightly more humor than heart, you should be seeking out Wellington Paranormal.
Maybe a paranormal police procedural that airs on the CW doesn't sound like your typical TV viewing, but this unheralded New Zealand mockumentary comes from the minds of Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement—aka, the duo who gifted the world What We Do in the Shadows. That silly vampire show is just about the funniest TV comedy of the last decade this side of Veep, though it tends to dabble in over-the-top violence and gratuitous sex bits. Wellington Paranormal plays things much tamer, extracting reflexive smirk after smirk through two ill-equipped beat cops dryly trying to navigate zombies, sea monsters, ghosts, and more without the slightest clue.
Three seasons and counting have aired in New Zealand, but the handful of episodes finally brought to the US have become 2021's most reliable source of one-liners, like when partners Minogue (a tall, slightly dimwitted man) and O'Leary (a short, capable but overly polite woman) get compared to more famous paranormal detectives: "She's the analytical like Scully, and I'm a man with brown hair." Or when pondering reported alien crop circles on their way to a scene, "If I identify it, is it just an FO?" Response: "Either way, if you come from another planet, seems like you should be able to respect our rules in Wellington." Or when encountering a young woman who is displaying werewolf tendencies: "Just because it's a werewolf you can't assume it's a man." Response: "Yeah, it's like a doctor—sometimes a man, sometimes not."
This is the rare cop show where I'm not sure a single gun has been drawn, and the only perps who have been shoved into the back of a squad car were other cops who may have been bitten by a zombie and seemingly wanted to take a bite out of their office rivals. Instead, Minogue, O'Leary, and their sergeant, Officer Maaka, all have the best intentions but often the least amount of savvy as they try to keep their community safe. And at times, that leads to a frenetic scramble, sirens blaring, to clear a neighborhood beach from sea monsters who... well, it turns out they aren't eating people but may be in the middle of mating season.
—Nathan Mattise, Features Editor Emeritus
You S3
The first two seasons of You—the Netflix psychological thriller based on the novels by Caroline Kepnes—were utterly addictive, chronicling the romantic (and murderous) exploits of a handsome, charming serial killer named Joe Goldberg (Penn Badgely). In S1, Joe is a bookstore owner in New York City who becomes obsessed with an NYU grad student and aspiring writer named Guinevere Beck (Elizabeth Lail). He stalks her relentlessly, and it doesn't end well for Beck. S2 found Joe starting over with a new identity in Los Angeles. He soon fell into his old stalker habits when he met aspiring chef Love Quinn (Victoria Pedretti), who proved to be much more formidable than one might expect from a self-styled health guru. One might even say she is his perfect match—i.e., a worthy opponent.
It would have been easy for the writers to keep recycling the same winning narrative formula: Joe moves to a new city, falls for a new woman, stalks her, briefly wins her, and then ends up killing her when his obsessive, controlling behavior derails the relationship. Instead, S3 finds Joe and Love married, with a newborn baby, living in the fictional affluent suburb of Madre Linda. It's not long before Joe develops an obsession with their next-door neighbor and we think we're heading for the usual pattern. Then the impulsively violent Love turns the tables on her husband by taking out her competition in the first episode to preserve her seemingly idyllic family. And suddenly we're in uncharted territory.
It's the first of numerous surprising twists as the couple tries to ward off suspicion while navigating mommy "influencers," life coaches, anti-vaxxers, a suspicious TV reporter, a college student who falls for Love, and the probing questions of their marital therapist, among other challenges. Tensions rise, and casualties pile up, propelling us to the inevitable showdown between Joe and Love. Netflix has renewed the series for a fourth season, and I have no idea where one could go from here. But I thought the same thing about the stellar S3, so perhaps they'll surprise us yet again.
—Jennifer Ouellette, Senior Writer
Arcane
Arcane is based on League of Legends, from Riot Games, which, despite being hugely popular, I've never played and know next to nothing about. This is a take from a non-fan, and honestly I think I might have enjoyed the show even more going in cold. Everything was fresh and new to me, from the world to the characters, and no prior knowledge is required to watch. Which is good, because this show is absolutely fantastic, and you should watch it.
I highly recommend it to absolutely anyone who's remotely a fan of animation, or neon-infused steampunk, or just likes a great story. The last time I felt like gushing to people about a show this much was when I got hooked on The Expanse. The characters are well written, believable, with great voice acting. (Speaking of The Expanse, there's a brief cameo from Chrisjen Avasarala.) The emotional beats feel earned, and not forced, and while the story itself is based on a lot of tried and true classic elements, it never feels too predictable and dodges the tropes that would bog it down.
The real star, though, is the animation, done by French studio Fortiche. Have you ever seen concept art for a movie or TV show or game, where everything feels a little loose and gestural, with the brush strokes on display instead of blended in, and everything just feels atmospheric and ripe with possibility? And then you see the final product and it's polished, and slick, and something special from the original drawings was lost in translation? Arcane is like concept art that came to life and sprang off the page without having the edges sanded off. It's CGI, but it feels like it's drawn by hand. It's 3D, it's 2D, and in some scenes verges into something experimental and in-between that took my breath away.
I hate comparing it to Into the Spider-Verse, since Fortiche was honing its style long before that film, and Arcane went into production around the same time. But that's the best reference for how it made me feel. Season 1 (S2 has already been confirmed) is nine episodes on Netflix. It has a 100 percent critics rating and 97 percent audience score on Rotten Tomatoes. And it's got my stamp of approval. I say check it out.
—Aurich Lawson, Creative Director
Shadow and Bone
A lowly orphan and military cartographer in a war-torn world discovers she may be the key to her country's survival in Shadow and Bone, the Netflix series based on young adult author Leigh Bardugo's bestselling "Grishaverse" novels. Those YA roots are mostly hidden in this lavish, entertaining adaptation, which boasts strong performances, terrific production design, and compelling mythical storytelling. Think Cursed meets The X-Men, with embellishments from Doctor Zhivago.
The Grishaverse gets its name from the "grisha," people with special abilities who practice what is known as the "Small Science." It's technically magic, although, as the powerful grisha known as The Darkling (Ben Barnes) sees it, grisha manipulate the "stuff" of the world around them; they don't create something out of nothing. Rarest of all grisha are the Shadow Summoner—who can create and command darkness—and the Sun Summoner, who can call forth light.
Alina (Jessie Mei Li), who discovers she is a Sun Summoner, is less passive than in the books, and Mal (Archie Renaux) is outright heroic and less of a callous jerk. Overall, this is a fine adaptation that captures the most critical elements that made fans fall in love with the Grishaverse in the first place. Best of all, it doesn't end on an annoying cliffhanger, although the finale deftly sets up the inevitable second season.
—Jennifer Ouellette, Senior Writer
The White Lotus
The world likely has enough television devoted to uber-privileged rich people behaving badly (cf. Succession). On top of that, HBO's The White Lotus felt the need to rub it in by taking cheap shots at those of us working for online publications. But as an experiment in television-making during the COVID times, nothing can compare.
Toward the start of the pandemic, those in the TV industry worried out loud about what kind of impact COVID-19 could have—not just off-screen, but on it. In a pre-vaccine world where social distancing was the rule, how could you do any kind of show with large crowds in the background? Could you have actors physically interacting in good faith? Were indoor scenes even feasible?
White Lotus creator Mike White took those potential constraints and creatively found something great within them. As White famously told the Los Angeles Times, last summer HBO literally asked him if he had any COVID-friendly ideas, i.e. things that could happen in a single location, with a limited ensemble, and be filmed as quickly as possible in order to keep the production pipeline full at a time of great uncertainty. A show set in a remote all-included resort about disparate vacationers checked all the boxes, and ultimately White's quick work (he told LAT he started writing in August, started filming in October) found a big audience and an offer for S2. The filming world may very well open up a bit more beforehand, but The White Lotus would be smart to stick to its well-defined structure.
—Nathan Mattise, Features Editor Emeritus
Post Mortem: No One Dies in Skarnes
Norwegian horror dramedy Post Mortem: No One Dies in Skarnes is the darker cousin of iZombie and The Santa Clarita Diet with a dash of Six Feet Under thrown in for good measure—a welcome fresh take on the vampire drama. Kathrine Thorborg Johansen plays Live Hallangen, who works in a nursing home in the tiny town of Skarnes. Her brother Odd (Elias Holmen Sørensen) runs the local funeral home, which struggles financially due to the unusually low death rate. One day police find Live in a field and declare her dead—only for her to wake up unexpectedly on the autopsy table.
No, hyperthermia did not place her in a state of suspended animation. Live has a genetic "condition," inherited from her mother. While the word "vampire" is never uttered, that's clearly what she's becoming, even though she has a reflection, can walk about in sunlight, and so forth. This is not laugh-out-loud humor, although the scene where one of Live's now-undead victims revives in the most undignified way possible comes close. It's more sly and dark, focusing more on the central mystery of who put Live in that field, and whether the siblings can save the family business. (All they need is one pricey funeral.) If that's your cup of tea, Post Mortem doesn't disappoint.
—Jennifer Ouellette, Senior Writer
Elon does SNL
I understand the criticism and believe it's valid. Why should SNL provide a platform for some knee-jerky capitalist with some problematic Internet impulses? (That hasn't really worked out for the show in the past.) The beforehand skepticism felt warranted, too. This guy has a reputation for being fairly rude and doesn't sport any obvious comedy chops; we've all watched folks who end up way out of their element, like Ronda Rousey or Lance Armstrong.
But... [whispers] Elon Musk was totally fine, even kinda funny when he hosted SNL this year. Musk repeatedly allowed himself to be put in less-flattering light and directly participated in self-deprecation. His monologue, for instance, set the tone and leaned into his general stiffness and stilted delivery. "Sometimes after I say something I have to say, 'I mean that,' so people know I mean that," he began. "That's because I don't always have a lot of intonation variation when I speak, which I'm told leads to great comedy."
Musk publicly identified as a person with Asperger's and admitted to struggling with eye contact ("Don't worry, I'm pretty good at running 'Human' in emulation mode"). He admitted he's awful on Twitter. ("I want to share my vision for the future: I believe in a renewable energy future. I believe humanity must become a multi planetary spacefaring civilization. Those seem like exciting goals, don't they? If I just posted that on twitter, I'd be fine. But I always write things like '60 days after 420, haha.' I thought it was funny, that's why I wrote 'hahaha' at the end.") Musk landed an OJ joke, made fun of his kid's name, and even brought out his mum.
It might have been the high point, but the Tesla/SpaceX/Neuralink man made it through the rest of the episode in above-average shape, too. His laughable Wario impression, his general disposition fitting perfectly into our first back-into-society conversations of the COVID-era, his willingness to put SpaceX and Dogecoin into the crossfire of Chad or Weekend Update... the episode had as many potentially viral skits as any other this season. And ultimately, it achieved the goals of all parties involved. For SNL, they found a wider audience and netted the highest ratings of the season. For Musk, he re-emphasized who he is for viewers beyond all the space and tech news watchers out there.
"I reinvented electric cars and I'm sending people to Mars in a rocket ship," he opined. "Did you think I was also going to be a chill normal dude?"
—Nathan Mattise, Features Editor Emeritus
Bosch S7
Along with Columbo, Bosch was one of those binge-worthy shows that helped get us through lockdown last year. The series is adapted from Michael Connelly's mystery novels. Titus Welliver plays the titular Hieronymus "Harry" Bosch, a former Special Forces operative and Gulf War veteran now working as an LAPD detective in Hollywood's homicide division. The seventh and final season is based on Connelly's The Burning Room. On New Year's Eve, arsonists set fire to an apartment building, killing several residents, including a 10-year-old girl who was delivering tamales to her neighbors. The case falls to Bosch and his partner, Jerry Edgar (The Wire's Jamie Hector).
Bosch is gruff and wizened, and while he isn't afraid to occasionally buck the system, ultimately he's highly ethical and a stickler for the letter of the law. He's a great character, played to perfection by Welliver, with an equally gifted supporting cast and well-developed narratives and characters, notably Madison Lintz as Harry's daughter Maddie; Mimi Rogers as ruthless attorney Honey Chandler; and Harry's older colleagues, nicknamed "Crate" (Gregory Scott Cummins) and "Barrel" (Troy Evans), who provide some comic relief but also prove surprisingly competent in a pinch.
Ultimately, the show is a love letter to the City of Angels—not the idealized Los Angeles most people envision, but the real city Angelenos navigate every day, warts and all. I'm going to miss it.
—Jennifer Ouellette, Senior Writer
WandaVision
2021 was the first year that the Marvel Cinematic Universe and Disney+ gathered in a musty room, performed a seance, and melded their otherworldly powers to cast the spell that is fascinating television. We've had no shortage of Marvel Comics-related TV since Iron Man made the MCU a thing, with the results varying wildly not only in quality but also crossover with other known Marvel entities. WandaVision, on the other hand, emerged from the weirdness of COVID TV production and kicked off 2021 by boldly attaching itself to the megaton plotline of Avengers: Endgame—and taking an invested audience to some trippy places.
Its risky start was arguably the exact opposite of what you might fear a media conglomerate like Disney might do with a beloved property. The series began with an insane three-episode fakeout of what exactly was going on, with only hints of its real shape coming from gentle taps against its fourth wall.
By the time that wall broke, audiences—who'd arguably hung around based on their prior interest in other Marvel properties—got to see Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany flex charismatic muscles that had been otherwise buried by their relegation to supporting roles in films. The result felt like an ambitious graphic novel, in terms of letting the supernatural loose ends of a superhero universe fuel the wacky "what if" scenario of world-saving heroes becoming black-and-white sitcom stars. (Unsurprisingly, Marvel Studios' What If? cartoon series shone for similar reasons.)
Yet, once that first gimmick wore off, WandaVision proved it could still maintain great momentum between compelling plot beats and question marks, including a surprising return of an X-Man who'd floundered in the cinematic juggle of Fox and Marvel licenses and the meme-worthy payoff of Kathryn Hahn's character revealing a few juicy truths. No other MCU series this year quite had the same magic, though we're currently enjoying the fact that Disney+'s Hawkeye is breathing new Avenger life into sleepy Jeremy Renner.
—Sam Machkovech, Tech Culture Editor
Reservation Dogs
No show on TV is more unapologetically itself than Reservation Dogs, a new FX "comedy" from Taika Waiti and Sterlin Harjo. Set on an American Indian reservation in a fictional Oklahoma town, this series throws viewers into the deep end of a world many likely have never experienced, and it does so without offering floaties.
Maybe that sounds frustrating, but in practice it's one of the great pleasures of Reservation Dogs. The show effortlessly weaves in modern American Indian culture (fried bread is delicious, promise), traditional folklore (ever hear of Tall Man? Know why owls get censored?), and the overarching societal challenges (poverty, drugs, identity, etc.). You can watch a half hour and simply be engrossed by the charming vibes, but each week seemingly gives you a new concept or idea that will linger in your mind and send you to the Internet for research soon after. People praised shows like Mare of Easttown for making location a character and enveloping viewers in an authentic place, but none of us had any idea an even better practitioner of such setting-showcasing would follow in the late summer.
And perhaps it doesn't even need to be said explicitly, but aside from all of the above: this show is a ton of fun, with the kind of heart/humor combo you'd expect from a Waititi project. The plot centers on a group of high school-ish American Indian kids pulling small cons to make a buck and grappling with the loss of a friend, and they encounter new adventures and hijinks each week whether it involves elders from the community, local law enforcement, the nearby meth community, or a rival gang of kids who are new to town and looking to claim neighborhood supremacy. The performances are charming, the sound and setting alluring, and each week leaves you wanting more. There were many, many high-profile projects on the schedule heading into the early fall, but none reached the highs of Reservation Dogs.
—Nathan Mattise, Features Editor Emeritus
Girls5eva
Girls5eva is an oddball love letter to the girl group/boy band industrial complex of the late '90s. After a one-hit wonder's one hit is sampled in a new song two decades later, the (surviving) members of Girls5eva attempt to reunite and make another run at stardom. This is made more appealing for each of them because their personal and/or professional lives are in shambles.
Girls5eva works partly because of the musical and comedic chops of its main cast—singer-songwriter Sara Bareilles has no trouble keeping up with Renée Elise Goldsberry (Hamilton), Busy Philipps (Freaks and Geeks, Cougartown), and Paula Pell (SNL)—and partly because of the rapid-fire out-of-nowhere joke delivery that creator Meredith Scardino and executive producers Tina Fey and Robert Carlock honed on shows like The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt and 30 Rock. Like those shows, Girls5Eva is occasionally more weird than it is funny. But it hits way more often than it misses, and it fills a musical-comedy niche that the CW's Crazy Ex-Girlfriend left behind when it ended back in 2019.
—Andrew Cunningham, Senior Technology Reporter
Invincible
In a post-Watchmen world, moody superhero stories loaded with "realism" are a dime a dozen. Some of them stand out, like Amazon's The Boys, while many of them are downright bad. No one needed a four-hour Justice League in the already-hellish year 2021, you know?
Invincible, Amazon's animated series based on Robert Kirkman's comics, shot right up to the top of modern superhero series with its debut season. In fact, it's just one of the best TV experiences of 2021, period. The show mixes the familiar tropes of DC and Marvel with the familiar beats of a high school coming-of-age story, then tops it all off with a splash of Kirkman's over-the-top action and just enough moody, real superhero stuff. These eight episodes feature some of the best voice acting performances around from A-listers like Steven Yuen, JK Simmons, and Sandra Oh, and the season includes some of the best (visually stunning, varied in format and outcome) action set pieces on TV.
If seeing "Robert Kirkman series" gives you some hesitation, you can breathe easier than anyone in the (still airing?!) Walking Dead universe. Invincible is a complete comic series, meaning the meandering and repetitious dread that eventually saddled Kirkman's other TV series may be avoidable with this one. And no matter where things ultimately head, it won't ruin this pristine first run of episodes that are equal parts fun and "You're f'n kidding me" in retrospect.
—Nathan Mattise, Features Editor Emeritus
Hacks
Hannah Einbinder and national treasure Jean Smart are the comic duo at the heart of HBO's Hacks. Smart plays Deborah Vance, a legendary stand-up comedian with a longstanding Las Vegas residency at the fictional Palmetto Casino. Incensed to learn that the casino CEO is cutting back on her performances to make room for fresh (read: younger) acts, Deborah takes her manager's advice and hires a young writer. That would be Einbinder's Ava Daniels, a selfish, entitled, self-sabotaging woman who lost her TV deal after making an offensive joke on Twitter.
Their flinty dynamic powers and shapes the ensuing episodes. The show explores comedy, feminism, and the intersection of art and commerce through the lens of their hate-love-hate-love inter-generational relationship, and the characters' obvious rapport just makes their intentional and accidental betrayals of one another that much more heartbreaking. It's also a very funny show.
—Andrew Cunningham, Senior Technology Reporter
His Dark Materials S2
The first season of His Dark Materials, the BBC/HBO adaptation of Philip Pullman's classic fantasy trilogy, had its share of critics, particularly with regard to its sometimes sluggish pacing. Fortunately, those shortcomings were successfully addressed in the riveting second season. Having established author Phillip Pullman's elaborate fictional world for viewers unfamiliar with the books, S2 was a briskly paced, yet emotionally resonant experience.
It includes a large cast of characters, with many different narrative threads, and the writers deserve praise for how the various storylines flow effortlessly into and around each other throughout the season. All those threads ultimately converge with tragic consequences, as we bid farewell to several characters, most notably Lee Scoresby, who sacrifices himself so that Parry can briefly reunite with his son and instruct him to bring the subtle knife to Lord Asriel. It's a loss that devastated book readers, and Lee's demise is no less heartbreaking here.
Ruth Wilson's fiercely feral portrayal of the complicated Mrs. Coulter remains a highlight of the series, and the heartbreaking season finale perfectly set the stage for S3, which has already been green-lit by the studios. Alas, James McAvoy's Lord Asriel was conspicuously absent this season. There was supposed to be a standalone episode centered on his own mission, but there simply wasn't time to finish writing and shooting that episode before production shut down. I'm sure we'll see more of Lord Asriel in the final installment.
—Jennifer Ouellette, Senior Writer
Q: Into the Storm
Yes, HBO's six-part Q: Into the Storm docuseries does provide a clear-eyed overview of the titular conspiracy theory that seemed to take recent election seasons by storm. But this project is far more fascinating as a character study of the people behind Q's latest online home, the infamous dark web message board 8chan. Filmmaker Cullen Hoback had incredible access to Fredrick Brennan (founder of 4chan) and Jim and Ron Watkins (the eccentric father/son duo behind 8chan), and he traveled all over creation (from Congress to the Philippines to DC on January 6) to capture this trio responding in real time to technical challenges, congressional inquiries, and the ever-evolving political circus leading up to the 2020 election.
The series doesn't over editorialize one way or the other, both to its benefit (hearing QAnon beliefs presented so earnestly really hammers home the absurdity of it all) and detriment (not challenging a lot of the 8chan leadership's penchant for letting extremism run awhile). But the best parts of Into the Storm are when Hoback simply keeps the camera running and captures the evolving relationships and tense interactions between those three hugely influential web personalities and their ever-demanding user base.
—Nathan Mattise, Features Editor Emeritus
Wynonna Earp S4
Demons were defeated, a long-running feud finally came to an end, personal rifts were healed, and a hotly anticipated wedding finally took place in the decidedly upbeat series finale of Wynonna Earp, SyFy's supernatural Western/horror series. SyFy canceled the series earlier this year, so with S4, we bid a fond farewell to the boozily irreverent, tough-yet-vulnerable protector of the fictional town of Purgatory.
The series is based on the comic book series created by Beau Smith in 1996. Wynonna (Melanie Scrofano) took on "revenants," the repeatedly reincarnated outlaws that Wyatt Earp killed. They wouldn't stay dead until the Earp heir—Wynonna—offed them with Wyatt's famous 16-inch-barrel revolver, dubbed Peacemaker. Over the course of four seasons, she battled witches, vampires, vengeful spirits, nutty sister-wife cults, possessed neighbors, demonic nuns, and killer trees, among other threats. S4 gave us a killer character arc for Wynonna, exploring the toll being the Earp heir has taken on her, as her binge-drinking becomes more severe and she increasingly cuts herself off emotionally from family and friends.
We can always nitpick about the many loose ends, the cheesier elements, the completely insane plot twists, and so forth, but this series somehow always worked anyway. I chalk it up to the show's big heart. Everyone who worked on this show, from showrunner Andras to the entire cast and crew, loved it deeply and passionately. It's something you just can't fake. It's what has always given Wynonna Earp that special creative spark, despite (or perhaps because of) its flaws. That love always carried us through the rough patches. In the end, Wynonna Earp was just as endearingly imperfect as its titular heroine, and just as captivating. Shine on, you lovable, hard-drinking, bar-brawling, foul-mouthed anti-Buffy.
—Jennifer Ouellette, Senior Writer
Dickinson S2
You'll probably know from a brief description whether you'll love or hate Dickinson, currently airing its third and final season on Apple TV+. It dramatizes Emily Dickinson's life, family, and poetry in the time leading up to and during the American Civil War, and it blends a period-appropriate setting and dress with a millennial-meets-Gen-Z music, slang, and comic sensibility. (Louisa May Alcott, who in real life wrote Little Women "in record time for money," is characterized in-show as being "just about that hustle.") It intentionally plays fast and loose with the facts as we know them but in doing so manages to capture an honest-feeling and three-dimensional version of an Emily who can comment on our tumultuous American moment through the lens of her own.
The second and third seasons don't quite capture the unexpectedness of the first, but it's almost always a visually and emotionally striking show. This is helped along by its stellar cast, including Hailee Steinfeld as Emily Dickinson herself, as well as Jane Krakowski (30Rock, The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt) and Toby Huss (Halt and Catch Fire, The Adventures of Pete and Pete) as Emily's parents.
—Andrew Cunningham, Senior Technology Reporter
Nancy Drew S2
I came late to this inventive re-imagining of the classic, titian-haired teen detective created in 1930 by publisher Edward Stratemeyer, along with The Hardy Boys. (All the Drew novels were ghostwritten under the collective pseudonym Carolyn Keene.) The CW's Nancy Drew is the third TV adaptation of the character—Pamela Sue Martin, who starred as Nancy in the 1970s series, makes a cameo in the pilot—and while it has received mixed critical reviews, count me among the show's many fans.
The character's most recent incarnation was played by Sophia Lillis (It, I Am Not Okay With This) in the 2019 film, Nancy Drew and the Hidden Staircase, which hewed to the tradition of having Nancy solve seemingly supernatural mysteries by uncovering the decidedly un-supernatural culprits behind strange phenomena. By contrast, the CW's Nancy Drew (starring Kennedy McMann as Nancy) leans into the supernatural. Our teen sleuth is still solving mysteries, but they come in the form of legends and ghost stories that often turn out to be all too real—and she does it all while grappling with a lot of personal drama.
Nancy is aided by the trusty "Drew Crew": George Fan (Leah Lewis), Nancy's boss at local diner The Bayside Claw; Bess Marvin (Maddison Jaizani), a rich city girl with a mysterious past; Ned "Nick" Nickerson (Tunji Kasim), Nancy's occasional paramour, who works in the auto shop; and Ace (Alex Saxon), dishwasher and cook at the diner, whose hacking skills often come in handy. Scott Wolf plays Nancy's father, Carson Drew, local attorney.
S2 adopted more of a case-of-the-week structure, compared to S1's longer narrative arc concerning two mysteries (one present, one past) that just might be connected. Elements of traditional Nancy Drew lore are woven throughout the series for fans of the books to savor, and I guarantee you've never encountered the Bobbsey Twins as teenage thieves and con artists before. Equal parts soapy supernatural drama and spooky murder mystery, Nancy Drew is deliciously addictive.
—Jennifer Ouellette, Senior Writer
Saturday Morning All-Star Hits (SMASH!)
When I began watching Saturday Morning All-Star Hits! (SMASH!) on Netflix, I tuned in out of personal interest. If you're wondering who actually taps "upvote" on modern SNL YouTube videos starring erratic comedian Kyle Mooney, well, I'm one of dozens. I was interested to see how a show with him in a lead role might compare to his usual schtick of being the odd SNL man out, even though I didn't expect the results to necessarily be "Ars best-of" worthy.
By the end of the first episode, however, I found myself stunned by the series' secret weapon: a pitch-perfect recreation of the 1980s and '90s ecosystem of animated series. The animated send-ups of '80s fantasy and sci-fi cartoons, boldly aping the likes of He-Man and GI Joe, had me giggling pretty quickly, but SMASH! also proves wickedly funny with its subtle, satirical side. I've never seen such a scathing, three-dimensional send-up of how media companies of the era poisoned our favorite fantasy and sci-fi universes with commercialization.
SMASH! baits its audience by faking like a replica of a Saturday morning show, full of cartoon clips and live-action interstitials, but this motif also plays out in real time in order to let us see what happens when toy sales, catch phrases, and pop culture politicking get in the way of genuinely lovable adventure cartoons. (As a wholly fictional universe, of course, this satire is a lot more laughable than watching a toy exec ruin your favorite real-life series.)
Additionally, SMASH! makes room for other "fantasy" cartoon touchstones like Care Bears and Cabbage Patch Kids, which means anybody on your Netflix-watching couch will have an entry point to the series' very weird retro-comedy approach. I won't blame you for thinking the show looks bad on account of its trailer, but if the above description intrigues you in the slightest, strap in for some weirdness, and you might find yourself pretty amused by the end.
—Sam Machkovech, Tech Culture Editor
Locke and Key S2
The first season of Locke and Key, Netflix's adaptation of the comic book series by Joe Hill and Gabe Rodriguez, successfully brought the fabled Key House and the darkly fantastical world of the comics to vivid life. The second season is even better: it's faster-paced, it has even more intriguing character arcs, and it delves a bit more into the history and mythology behind Key House and its magical keys.
Longtime fans of the comics can attest to the powerful allure of the basic premise: three traumatized siblings whose father was recently murdered return to dad's ancestral home, Key House, with their mother and discover that the house is filled with hidden magical keys that "whisper" to the children until they find them. Only kids can hear the keys whispering, and any adults who witness the "magic" of the keys in use quickly forget what they've seen. We get several new keys this season, including the Hercules Key—which inserts into a belt to confer great strength on the bearer—and the Small World Key, which fits into a dollhouse replica of Key House, letting the user see anything happening in the house in real time when the dollhouse is unlocked.
The performances are terrific across the board, and the series is not afraid to sacrifice a few characters to ensure that there are real emotional stakes. The show has already been renewed for a third season, and I can't wait to see where the narrative heads next. Hill and Rodriguez clearly have a lot more stories to tell.
—Jennifer Ouellette, Senior Writer
For All Mankind S2
For All Mankind (or as it's referred to in our house, Moon Show) takes a while to liftoff, but it was showing real promise by the end of its first season. Its fantastic second season makes good on that promise.
The show's alternate reality—which departs from ours in 1969 beginning with the first moon landing—gets farther away from our reality in the second season, and its repurposing and deepfaking of historical footage is fascinating both as a storytelling device and as a technical achievement. Creator Ronald D. Moore (Deep Space 9, the early '00s version of Battlestar Galactica) also puts on a clinic in how to write complex, likable, memorable characters for TV, with occasionally devastating results. Please watch Moon Show.
—Andrew Cunningham, Senior Technology Reporter
The Nevers
The brainchild of Joss Whedon (before he quit the project in 2020), The Nevers has an intriguing premise. In August 1886, Victorian London is rocked by a supernatural event that gives certain people—mostly women—abnormal abilities. The "touched," as they are called, are simultaneously admired and feared, and there are also those eager to exploit their unique gifts. It falls to mysterious, quick-fisted widow Amalia True (Laura Donnelly) and brilliant young inventor Penance Adair (Ann Skelly) to protect and shelter them, with the help of a wealthy spinster named Lavinia Bidlow (Olivia Williams), who runs the Orphanage, a haven for the Touched.
The Nevers works on multiple levels: it boasts a unique premise, multiple compelling storylines, lavish production design, and thematic heft. Best of all, it's packed with terrific, memorable characters, brought to vivid life by an insanely talented cast. Donnelly is simply extraordinary as Amalia, equal parts tough and vulnerable, loyal yet capable of betrayal if her mission requires it. She drinks hard, has sex with men and doesn't bother learning their names, and is formidable in a fight, despite her diminutive stature. And her friendship with Penance is the heart and soul of the series.
The Nevers isn't a perfect series. It's complicated and can be confusing, especially as it keeps adding characters and subplots. Let your attention wander for a moment and you'll likely miss some tiny detail that will prove crucial to understanding a plot point later. This is especially true of the abrupt shift in the midseason finale, which dumped viewers into a brand-new world with brand-new characters, midaction, leaving them to flounder their way to some understanding of what is going on.
That said, the strengths of The Nevers far outweigh the weaknesses. I'd rather watch an ambitious show that swings for the fences and falls a little bit short than one that opts to play it safe.
—Jennifer Ouellette, Senior Writer
Only Murders in the Building
The setup for Hulu's Only Murders in the Building sounds like a stunt at first blush. Cast Steve Martin, Martin Short, and (checks cast list again) Selena Gomez together in a show that ostensibly parodies (wait, seriously?) non-fiction murder podcasts like Serial, In The Dark, Crimetown et al? It's a tried and true formula... something that American Vandal did four years ago already.
But then you watch an episode of Only Murders in the Building—and another, and another, and another—and this series reveals itself to be so damn charming. For fans of the source material, this series is chock full of pitch-perfect parody touches: Tina Fey as the Sarah Koenig type, theme music you have to listen to twice or you'd mistake it for Serial's score, and all the small details from tonally dissonant sponsors to nailing tag lines and episode stingers. Yet it also cleverly finds new ideas within this well-established genre, like giving more life to the law enforcement who maybe got the initial case wrong or never forgetting how weirdly exploitive it can be to create a "show" out of the worst moment in many people's lives in an attempt to gain... fans? Episode 7 could be the best hour(ish) of TV in 2021.
On top of all that, the performances alone are worth coming back for. Steve Martin never does TV, and here he is as the empathetic straight man (a former TV actor looking to feel alive again) alongside the eccentric Short (a burned-out Broadway producer desperate for a project) and the way-better-than-you-might-expect-from-Disney-Channel-roots Gomez (a young woman in the same building with unclear connections to the primary mystery). You're quickly left wondering how all three haven't been in TV roles all the freakin' time in this content-stuffed streaming era since they so nimbly and effortlessly jump between quips, emotional moments of conflict, and unexpected success in their detective and podcasting pursuits. This isn't American Vandal 2.0, but it strikes a similar balance of hilarity and heady observation to fill the Turd Burglar-sized hole in our hearts.
—Nathan Mattise, Features Editor Emeritus
Lupin Parts I and II
Lupin Part I debuted on Netflix in January 2021 and quickly became one of the most-watched programs on the streaming giant. It's a delightful contemporary reimagining of a classic character in French detective fiction, Arsène Lupin—a gentleman thief and master of disguise who was essentially the French equivalent of Sherlock Holmes. Part 2 is even better, with twists, turns, and surprise reveals galore—all without sacrificing those crucial character-enriching quiet moments that add depth and emotional resonance to the series.
The Senegal-born Assane Diop (Omar Sy) successfully steals a jeweled necklace, which once belonged to Marie Antoinette, from the Louvre by posing as a janitor. The necklace has personal significance for Assane: his father, Babakar (Fargass Assandé), was falsely accused of stealing it years before by wealthy financier Hubert Pellegrini (Hervé Pierre), and Assane wants revenge for his father's resulting suicide. Detective Youssef Guedira (Soufiane Guerrab) is equal parts adversary and ally—and a fellow Lupin uber-fan.
Elements drawn from various Lupin stories are cleverly woven throughout the series. The writing is tight, and the story zips along at breakneck speed, building some genuine nail-biting suspense along the way. Much of that suspense arises from wondering just how long Diop can maintain the high-wire act, given Pellegrini's vast resources and formidable cunning. Ultimately, what makes this series so delightful is the revelation, over and over, of how Diop eventually outwits his various antagonists, even as the net begins to tighten. Who doesn't love to cheer on the underdog? Netflix has already renewed the series for Part 3, so we'll be getting more of Diop's dashing exploits in the future.
—Jennifer Ouellette, Senior Writer
Squid Game
Battle Royale meets Ninja Warrior in Squid Game, a South Korean import that became Netflix's most-watched show when it was released to US viewers earlier this year.
Squid Game follows Seong Gi-Hun, a down-on-his-luck gambler who has little left to lose when he agrees to play children's playground games against 455 other players for money. The twist? If you lose a game, you die. If you cheat, you die. And if you win, you might also die.
The grotesque spectacle of Squid Game is where it gets most of its appeal, but it resonates because of how relatable Gi-Hun and the rest of the game's contestants are. Alienated from society and each other, driven by guilt or shame or pride or desperation, each of the players we get to know is inescapably human, which is why Squid Game is more than just a gory sideshow. It starts stronger than it ends, mostly because of the time devoted to a cop subplot that goes nowhere, but the whole thing is worth watching if you aren't too squeamish. (Show creator Hwang Dong-hyuk says to watch it with subtitles rather than dubbed English audio, despite some controversy about their accuracy.)
—Andrew Cunningham, Senior Technology Reporter
Midnight Mass
Mike Flanagan is the mastermind behind the Netflix smash hit horror series The Haunting of Hill House and its follow-up, The Haunting of Bly Manor, both of which I loved. A side benefit to that success is that he finally got to make Midnight Mass, a self-described passion project of Flanagan's that had languished in development hell for years. Even Netflix passed initially on this "deeply personal" story drawing on Flanagan's own upbringing in the Catholic Church, and eventual sobriety and atheism.
Riley Flynn (Zach Gifford) returns to his hometown of Crockett Island after serving time for manslaughter; he killed a young woman in a drunk-driving accident. His return coincides with the arrival of a young new priest, Father Paul (Hamish Linklater), replacing the aging Monsignor Pruitt, who has taken ill during a trip to the Holy Land. But Father Paul has brought something back with him. Spoiler alert: it's an "angel," or rather, a vampire that Father Paul has chosen to believe is an angel because the creature's blood has healing properties for those who drink it—at a cost, of course.
Sure, there's a bit of excessive monologuing here and there, as each character ponders the nature of his or her faith (or lack thereof), which interrupts the momentum of the primary vampire narrative. But those elements are also what sets Midnight Mass apart, turning a horror story into a deeper reflection on the nature of faith, doubt, personal sacrifice, and the possibility of redemption. Of particular note is the character of Sheriff Hassan (Rahul Kohli), the sole devout Muslim on the island, who gets the rare chance to explain what his religion actually believes during a tense school board meeting. It's the most positive depiction of the Muslim faith in recent memory.
Midnight Mass cleverly subverts the pagan horror genre, because the religion that threatens to unhinge its followers is mainstream Catholicism. The show holds up a mirror to the all-too-human foibles of believers, without being overtly anti-religious. While the series is the slowest of burns, it all pays off with that stunning finale. And the camerawork is phenomenal, as evidenced by this in-depth dissection of a masterful 7.5 minute tracking shot in the second episode.
—Jennifer Ouellette, Senior Writer
Foundation
Gonna need to don my flame-proof pants for this one, but here it is: I loved 2021's Foundation.
Over the years I tried several times to read at least the first book in the series, but no matter what, I bounced off of it every time (even the audiobook version). So I didn't come to the show with the same book memories that most Ars readers have—the story just failed to connect with me. It felt too hokey, too pulp-y, too Flash Gordon—it felt like a product of its time, and it just didn't work for me.
But the show, on the other hand—well, look, "Art Deco in Space" is basically my primary love language, and I enjoyed the hell out of the show. I got a little bored during the Terminus scenes, and I could have maybe used a bit less of the Anacreon freedom fighters, but I was so pulled in by the Trantor storyline with the Eternal Emperor Cleon that I actually—for the first time in years—made it a point to watch the show on the day it was released, just like I would have for an old TV show.
Part of that is probably because I love Lee Pace, and honestly I'd watch the guy do anything, including just standing there and reading out of the phone book. But I found Foundation to be a fascinating tale that was told well, with a cast I enjoyed watching, and with a visual language that really connected with something in my head—seriously, the Mural of Souls is one of the coolest things I've ever seen.
I know most of the Internet hated it, and that's okay. But I'm looking forward to season two, and I'll be there watching it when it premieres.
—Lee Hutchinson, Senior Technology Editor
