Our rankings of every TV show we watched in 2023 continue apace. For the prior episodes, check out the following links:
50. Yellowjackets (Showtime, Season 2; 2021 rank: 21 of 108). A comedown was inevitable; the concept of “girls’ soccer team crashes in the wilderness and they eat each other and also the survivors remain haunted decades later” just wasn’t built to sustain multiple seasons of continuously shocking developments. But even if Yellowjackets’ second go-round carries more than a whiff of creative desperation, it remains furiously watchable, thanks to the terrific cast, some killer set pieces, and a juicy atmosphere (those ’90s needle drops!). That its manufactured plot twists feel artificial, as though the writers are sweatily retconning their original story, is no surprise, but it’s also beside the point; this show has always been less about what happens than how it happens. Forget plausibility—so long as Yellowjackets keeps serving up scenes of explosive violence and catty betrayals, my appetite will be satisfied.
49. Only Murders in the Building (Hulu, Season 3; last year: 32 of 110). Once you get past the absurdity of people constantly being killed in the same swanky New York apartment complex—an absurdity its characters are well aware of—Only Murders in the Building makes perfect sense as a multi-season series. What matters about this show isn’t the central mystery but the surrounding accoutrements: the genial chemistry between the three leads, the groaning gags about old guys and technology, the desire to belong in a specific community, Selena Gomez’s coats. This material stands apart from the main storyline—which is a good thing, because despite the high-profile additions of Meryl Streep and Paul Rudd, the startling clues and red herrings of Season 3 are largely forgettable. We can hardly expect Only Murders in the Building to transform into a pure sitcom free of death and intrigue, but the mystery of how to integrate its charming cast with its twisty plotting is one its creators would do well to solve.
48. What We Do in the Shadows (FX, Season 5; last year: 23). The floor of What We Do in the Shadows is now quite high, given how comfortable its talented actors are playing off one another. Still, after the inspired imagination of Season 4, this new batch of episodes feels comparatively lackluster, not reaching the creative heights of the show’s peak. There’s slight poignancy in the season-long subplot of Harvey Guillén’s freshly minted vampire trying to avoid upsetting his oblivious master (Kayvan Novak), and every Matt Berry line reading remains hysterical. But the series seems to be running in place a bit, coasting off the charms of its cast rather than supplying conceptually clever material. The buzz is that its upcoming season will be its last, so perhaps the specter of an ending will inspire the writers to be a bit bolder, as they grapple with the recognition that no TV show can live forever.
47. For All Mankind (Apple, Season 4; last year: 43). It’s funny that, for a show whose purported purpose is to constantly reimagine the trajectory of world history, For All Mankind has basically stayed the same, at least from a qualitative perspective. There are always a few unfortunate subplots that jostle fitfully alongside the more robust material and appealing personas. There are always some provocative plot twists, along with some awkward pieces of faux archival footage that aren’t quite as stimulating as they’re meant to be. And there are always a few killer set pieces, along with some less-than-stellar sequences which imply the show is failing to maximize its considerable budget. For the most part, this latest season mitigates the negatives while also failing to accentuate the positives. A few key characters may be two-dimensional, but they’re hardly as ruinous as the dreaded Danny Stevens; some of the galactic mayhem is entertaining, but it’s rarely exhilarating. If that makes For All Mankind sound average, it’s a little better than that; everything centering on Wrenn Schmidt’s now-traitorous scientist is fantastic, and the Space Stuff at least gestures toward interesting ideas involving leadership conflicts and labor dynamics. There’s an alternate history of this show where it’s consistently amazing, but the real world is always messier than that.
46. Servant (Apple, Season 4; last year: 57). I had hoped that, in its final season, Servant might achieve some sort of storytelling clarity and finally fuse its vague supernatural rumblings with its silky horror technique and its black comedy. Never happened—the series remained tantalizingly obscure to the last. But even if Servant’s plotting was frustratingly elusive, its scene-to-scene pleasures were consistently bountiful, with an odd mix of deadpan humor, creepy atmosphere, and razor-sharp filmmaking. It’s a good reminder of the importance of journey over destination; just because this enigmatic, eye-catching show never went anywhere doesn’t mean it didn’t do great things along the way.
45. Hijack (Apple, Season 1). Sometimes, you don’t need much of a hook for a TV show beyond a simple idea like, “Idris Elba versus terrorists on a plane.” Hijack, which theoretically chronicles its extremely stressful seven-hour flight in real-ish time, makes things more complicated than they need to be, incorporating some laughable cat-and-mouse on the ground involving criminal masterminds and intrepid detectives and frightened teenagers. It’s all silly, but it’s also irrelevant. What makes this show so effortlessly watchable is what happens up in the air—how Elba leverages his considerable screen presence in shifty ways, allowing his character to manipulate his quarry via slippery intelligence and cagey subterfuge in addition to his imposing physicality. Hijack may not be plausible, but it’ll still make you think twice before booking your next flight.
44. Harley Quinn (Max, Season 4; last year: 55). Earlier today, in writing about Starstruck, I lamented how rare it is for a TV show to depict a healthy and functioning adult relationship. Could the standard-bearer for such a phenomenon be found in an animated superhero series that’s full of spattery violence and juvenile dick jokes? I recognize that Harley Quinn is most recognizable for its extremism: its wacky misadventures, its subversion of comic-book tropes, its surfeit of blood and guts and sex and profanity. But underlying all of that—or really, smack in the center of all of that—is the romance between Kaley Cuoco’s Harley Quinn and Lake Bell’s Poison Ivy, a partnership that somehow manages to grow stronger and more persuasive with each new season, even as it’s surrounded by increasingly gonzo happenings. This is hardly a normal TV show—it features Lex Luthor trying to blow up the moon with a giant phallus, and also Harley and Poison Ivy travel to a future where the Avatar pictures are culturally relevant (damn right)—but its beating heart is one of abiding humanity. Maybe all those other ostensibly realistic love stories need more scenes of scissoring in a Vegas elevator.
43. American Born Chinese (Disney, Season 1). You know we’re living in an IP-saturated hellscape when a martial-arts series featuring two Oscar winners from last year can land on Disney+ without making a cultural dent. To be fair, both Michelle Yeoh and Ke Huy Quan have relatively minor roles in American Born Chinese, which centers on a pair of mismatched teenagers with a bizarre connection to a mythical universe. Still, this show deserved more attention than it received, if only for its ambition. Hybridizing teen comedy, family melodrama, and mythological action, it rarely clicks into a cohesive whole, but its attempt to wield such disparate pieces is admirable, and it unfolds with an undeniable sweetness. I suppose one of the earnest life lessons it imparts is that you can’t take anything for granted—not even a show with Michelle Yeoh as an ass-kicking goddess getting a second season.
42. Dave (FXX, Season 3; 2021 rank: 46). I have no idea if Dave Burd has grown commensurately successful in line with the titular rapper of this show (was Penith a hit? has anyone heard of Penith?), but increased fame proves both a curse and a blessing for Dave in its third season. On the one hand, the series’ increased cachet makes it feel a little proud of itself, bringing in A-list celebs like Rachel McAdams and Brad Pitt just to substantiate its own rise. On the other hand, turning Burd’s character into a quasi-star nudges the show into different territory, away from its familiar origin-story vibes and toward a more complex reckoning with fame and fortune. It’s hard to think of Dave as a great show, because Burd seems terrified of his own purported greatness even as he’s simultaneously convinced of it. But it’s a consistently interesting one, with thoughtful explorations of art, race, and culture. Sometimes, the B-sides are more meaningful than the greatest hits.
41. Happy Valley (AMC, Season 3; 2016 rank: 38 of 88). Seven years between seasons is unusual, but Happy Valley was fully formed from the start, and the time away hasn’t diminished its unsettling intimacy. Anchored by a pitch-perfect performance from Sarah Lancashire, it remains an unusual police procedural, as focused on its fraught family dynamics as its dastardly convicts. As a crime thriller, it isn’t especially exciting, but that feels like a choice rather than a shortcoming, even if I wouldn’t have minded some more alacritous set pieces. The heart of the show remains Lancashire’s world-weary sergeant, whose righteous superiority is as exhausting for her as it is for everyone else in her orbit. I don’t know that Happy Valley ever found the perfect balance between gritty thrills and earnest melodrama, but perfection is anathema to its hardscrabble setting and perpetually aggrieved characters. It settled for mere goodness, which in the context of its brittle, brutal universe is both a principled statement and something of a miracle.
Coming tomorrow: pirates, psychologists, teachers, and caterers.
Jeremy Beck is the editor-in-chief of MovieManifesto. He watches more movies and television than he probably should.