Supposedly, the 2010s were the decade when television usurped film as the dominant form of narrative storytelling. Box office returns are down, streaming media is on the rise, ambitious directors are abandoning the studio system, high-profile actors are leaving the big screen for the small, feature-length scripts are being reworked as miniseries and content is in unprecedented demand. TV should be poppin’ right now. And, in terms of volume, it is. But there’s something slightly off about this narrative. As I was compiling my various end of decade lists, I was stunned by the high number of great movies and low number of great television shows. Let this be a gentle reminder that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Nevertheless, here are ten series that absolutely blew my mind, all of which aired their first episode after January 1, 2010.
10. Atlanta (2016-Present)
Network: F/X Signature Episode: Teddy Perkins (S2, E6)
I’m going to say something no one on the Internet has the courage to say: Donald Glover does too much. He’s not a good enough rapper to justify three studio records, he’s not a good enough stand-up to justify two comedy specials, he’s not even a good enough actor to justify a role in The Martian. I can identify with his desire to be a Renaissance man, but I still contend that these side projects distract from Glover’s greatest gift: his ability to write television. Every episode of Atlanta is as fresh, invigorating and inspired as the last, without exception. And all credit goes to Glover, whose irreverence towards television conventions has gifted us a tonally-fluid, genre-bending show with no rules. When I flip on an episode of Atlanta, I don’t know if I’m getting a broad comedy, a dark satire, a romantic drama or, in the case of its finest episode, a full-fledged horror movie. Perhaps no show in the history of television has ever been so surprising. I just want more of it.
9. Mr. Robot (2015-2019)
Network: USA Signature Episode: Ep3.4_runtime-err0r.r00 (S3, E5)
In a decade filled with period pieces like The Crown and nostalgic romps like Stranger Things, Robot stands alone as the most 2010s show of the bunch. Sam Esmail’s ambitious drama about a vigilante cyberhacker is hardly perfect and sometimes impossible to follow, but you cannot deny its urgency and contemporary nature. This show could not have come out before this decade, and I doubt we’ll see anything like it after. Its digital anxieties, its isolated millennial characters, its firm grasp on American politics and its wildly inventive filmmaking feels so NOW. I don’t know how it will hold up upon rewatch, but I do know that the experience of watching week to week was exhilarating.
8. The Jinx: The Life and Deaths of Robert Durst (2015)
Network: HBO Signature Episode: “What the Hell Did I Do?” (E6)
Here’s the thing: I really like Robert Durst. I’d have a beer with the guy–as long as long as he didn’t know my name, address, license plate number, height, weight, date of birth, first pet, mother’s maiden name or any other revealing details. And, I guess, he’d have to be blindfolded so he couldn’t identify my face. But as long as those terms were met, sure! I’d love to hear all the ways he misled investigators after murdering three people in cold blood. “I did not tell the whole truth, nobody tells the whole truth,” he would tell me. And I, behind a thick pane of bulletproof glass, would nod in agreement because I know exactly where he’s coming from. Much praise has been heaped on The Jinx for its final scene, which captures a nervous Durst on hot mic, delivering an unwitting bathroom confession. And that is, no doubt, one of the most chilling moments to ever appear in a documentary. But The Jinx’s first five episodes are just as remarkable, not just as a twisty true crime tale, but as an intimate study of a heinous, yet strangely likable character. Never have I wanted to give evil such a big hug.
7. Fargo (2014-Present)
Network: F/X Signature Episode: The Castle (S2, E9)
The year 2014 bore witness to a tale of two anthology series: the first, a splashy HBO cop drama and, the second, a quirky FX black comedy mined from intellectual property. At the time, we thought True Detective and Fargo occupied two sides of the same cultural coin, but we’ve since become disillusioned. Yes, True Detective’s latter seasons are mostly terrible and Fargo’s latter seasons are mostly brilliant, but their differences are much more stark, because their head writers are starkly different artists. With True Detective, Nic Pizzolatto has shown an interest in the rich history of crime fiction and has continued to write traditional crime stories about tortured male figures. His mysteries can be derivative, but that’s okay, assuming you have someone like Cary Joji Fukunaga behind the camera. After season one, Pizzolatto didn’t have Fukunaga’s safety net, and his material got exposed. With Fargo, it’s clear that showrunner Noah Hawley (much like the Coen brothers in the 1996 film) is more interested in deconstructing crime fiction than simply rehashing it. And that’s allowed the show to reinvent itself season after season, while maintaining a distinct tone and high level of production quality. I welcome all the subversions that season four has in store.
6. Game of Thrones (2011-2019)
Network: HBO Signature Episode: The Winds of Winter (S6, E10)
Seinfeld is my favorite television show of all time, and nothing else comes particularly close. To prove it, I own three Seinfeld t-shirts (four, if you include the one with Larry David’s face on it), the Seinfeld trivia board game, the full-series DVD boxset, a Vandelay Industries keychain, two pairs of Festivus underwear and a seven-foot-tall Festivus pole that I made myself. But even I, the rabid Seinfeld fanboy, must admit that the last two seasons suck. And I’ve accepted that, because that’s television. Actors quit, writers run out of ideas, networks make demands, audiences lose interest and the product, especially toward the end, can be greatly imperfect. But that’s the way TV shows are built–to evolve, not to be specific; to last, not to end. The fact that Larry David left the Seinfeld writers room after season 7 is not a blemish on the show, it’s just another part of its complex history. We all should have learned this lesson before the final two seasons of Game of Thrones, which David Benioff and D.B. Weiss wrote in an abbreviated number of episodes, without George R.R. Martin’s guidance, with infinite storylines in need of closure and with an eye to their upcoming Star Wars Of course, none of those episodes were as thrilling as the Battle of Blackwater or as shocking as the Red Wedding or as satisfying as Joffrey’s death or as well-directed as Cersei’s revenge. But we mustn’t dwell on the botched ending and lose sight of the Game of Thrones we once knew. Because we may never see anything like it again.
5. Louie (2010-2015)
Network: F/X Signature Episode: Into the Woods: Part 2 (S4, E12)
When someone does something bad, their name is removed from critical discourse and their work, undoubtedly the byproduct of their problematic behavior, is rendered toxic. Those are the rules now, and I apologize for breaking them. But it seems like critics have left Louie out of the decade in review conversation, and I feel an obligation to correct the record. This show was groundbreaking and, in many ways, set the template for the next ten years of television comedy. Without Louie, you don’t have You’re the Worst or Transparent or Master of None or Girls or Better Things or, as FX Chief John Landgraf once confessed, Atlanta–shows that are written by funny people, star funny people, run for 30 minutes, yet have the confidence to reinvent themselves each episode with dramatic tonal swings. Sitcoms have traditionally been the dominant television genre because they introduce you to characters that seldom change and deliver story beats that bring you comfort. To call Louie a sitcom would be technically correct, but spiritually blasphemous. A more accurate description would be as a weekly series of absurdist short films, occasionally eliciting a laugh, but more often, a sense of melancholy, bewilderment and intellectual stimulation. Like its “cancelled” creator, Louie was challenging, and the television medium remains in its debt.
4. Better Call Saul (2015-Present)
Network: AMC Signature Episode: Chicanery (S3, E5)
There is nothing wrong with spin-offs, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Good Times was a spinoff, Mork and Mindy was a spin-off, Laverne and Shirly was a spin-off, The Jeffersons was a spin-off, Maude was a spin-off, Frasier was a spin-off. Hell, even The Simpsons was a spin-off. So, if you thought Better Call Saul was doomed to fail because it was a quiet prequel to a beloved crime series, you, like Jesse Pinkman, haven’t done your homework. In order to be successful, all a spin-off needs to do is justify its own existence. It can’t just be a series of retreads, references and inside jokes. The writers must create a story and group of characters that suggest a world just as interesting and expansive as the source text. And assuming you’ve paid attention to the work of Vince Gilligan, Peter Gould and the rest of the Breaking Bad writer’s room, you would know about their devotion to character, love of process, tight grasp on drama and high standard of craft. With these guys at the helm, this quirky show about case law could never be anything short of Breaking Bad. In fact, it may be greater.
3. Nathan for You (2013-2017)
Network: Comedy Central Signature Episode: Finding Frances (S4, E7)
Where to begin? Well, I could tell you that Nathan Fielder’s quasi-docuseries about struggling small businesses is the funniest and most creative show of the decade. And I could explain how its brand of satire is more in tune with our modern economy than any other contemporary piece of art. And I go on about Nathan Fielder’s fictional persona being the greatest character on television. And, of course, I could recount the heartbreaking details of the show’s finale, a two-hour documentary about a Bill Gates impersonator searching for his long-lost love. But I’d rather let Nathan for You do the talking. So, here’s a clip for your viewing pleasure. And here’s another one, and another one. Once you emerge from your YouTube click hole, you know where to find me.
2. Succession (2019-Present)
Network: HBO Signature Episode: Prague (S1, E8)
Here’s a dirty little secret about television’s golden age: we remember it as an era of antiheroes, but those guys weren’t all that bad. They often did very bad things, things we weren’t used to seeing on network television. But Tony Soprano loved his daughter and Walter White provided for his family and Don Draper promoted women in the workplace. Even Dexter Morgan, the serial killer, was a good Dad. Succession is truly the first television drama I’ve ever seen without a single redeeming character. The first family of the Roy media dynasty are more crude, vile, dishonest and disloyal than anyone you’ll ever encounter. They curse, they lie, they cheat, they steal, they blackmail, they backstab, they seek and they destroy, with no moments of tenderness beyond the occasional hug. But Jesse Armstrong and his immaculate writer’s room make no apologies, and have the confidence to keep twisting the knife in the audience’s gut. Succession proves that you don’t need to root for characters in order to care about their journeys. They just need to be real people with a soul, as black and demented as it may be.
1. Twin Peaks: The Return (2017)
Network: Showtime Signature Episode: Part 8
There’s a real unsavory subtext to the debate over whether or not Twin Peaks: The Return is a movie. Of course, any piece of art that’s broken up into eighteen parts, airs on a television network and is the direct continuation of a two-season ABC show of the same name is NOT a movie. But to say anything to the contrary suggests an implicit bias: Twin Peaks cannot possibly be television, because television cannot possibly be this good. This is reductive thinking on the part of film brats who maintain that cinema is the purest form of narrative storytelling and that TV is reserved for NCIS. They’re wrong, and David Lynch proved it. I’ve never seen anything, on any size screen, quite like the third season of Twin Peaks. It’s an abstract piece of art. It’s an evocative piece of visual storytelling. It’s a hilarious act of comedy. It’s a rumination on age. It’s an exploration of trauma. It’s a challenging exercise in nostalgia. It’s a tone poem on evil. It’s a deconstruction of soap operas. It’s a love letter to music. It’s a tour de force of acting. It’s a masterclass in character building. It’s a singular work of direction. It’s absurd and raw and devasting and scary and entertaining and warm and enveloping and beautiful and so, so, so, so, so, so Lynch. But most importantly, it’s a television show, and a damn fine one.
Shows That Just Missed the Cut
Veep, Barry, Hannibal, Boardwalk Empire, Fleabag, Black Mirror, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Sherlock, Show Me a Hero and Horace and Pete.
Smartest guy in the room, dumbest guy outside of it.
