We’re nothing around these parts if not generous. Over the past five days, MovieManifesto has ranked every TV show we watched in 2021—all 108 of them—and discussed them in various columns. What follows here is an omnibus piece, detailing the rankings in their entirety. To reach a particular piece for the given tier, just click on the header. Read More
And here we are. We’ve spent the week ranking all 108 TV shows that we watched in 2021. At long last, we’ve arrived at the top 10. If you missed the previous pieces, you can find them at the following links:
Tier 1: The top 10 10. Midnight Mass (Netflix, Season 1). A literalistic description of Midnight Mass might make it sound silly. Here is a series about a small, quiet island town whose peaceful tranquility is severely interrupted when it suddenly becomes a haven for—spoiler alert!—vampires. It’s a faintly absurd show that risks growing even more absurd because it takes itself absolutely seriously. Yet it’s that sincerity—the willingness to contemplate themes of faith, forgiveness, and salvation with frankness and without irony—which makes it so powerful. As is ever the case with the work of Mike Flanagan (both of whose prior Netflix series also made their respective year’s top 10 on this site), it’s superlatively crafted, with fluid camerawork and unnerving patience. But despite delivering some startling jolts, Midnight Mass isn’t as pound-for-pound scary as either of his Haunting shows, because cultivating fear isn’t its primary goal. It’s more interested in fusing familiar horror tropes with genuine theological examination, and it explores the inherent paradoxes of religion with uncommon candor, and without corresponding judgment. It also features gratifyingly complex characters, most notably Hamish Linklater’s morally conflicted priest. Samantha Sloyan, meanwhile, is unforgettable as one of the most deliciously vile villains ever created. Midnight Mass has the decency to imagine a dark world that’s nonetheless lit by hope. But when Sloyan is on screen, it recognizes that evil is very real, and all too human. Read More
Tier 2: The alternative top 10 20. Hanna (Amazon, Season 3; last year: 36 of 124). This is lunacy. Like, how did this happen? The first season of Hanna was enjoyable but insignificant, failing to distinguish itself from Joe Wright’s superior movie. Season 2 jumped dramatically, carving out its own identity and delivering a surprisingly heady mix of genre thrills and emotional sophistication. Now, the final season completes the ascent. It only runs six episodes, but there’s an urgency to the storytelling, a sense of genuine stakes. And while the new romance is a tad forced, the real love story of Hanna has always been the strange, mutating relationship between Esme Creed-Miles’ titular assassin and Mireille Enos’ stealthy manipulator. Neither actor is as gifted as their big-screen counterpart— Enos can’t hope to match Cate Blanchett’s sly snarl, and nobody can compare to Saoirse Ronan—but by this point in the show, they don’t need to be; obligatory comparisons have melted away, and they’ve instead created their own complex characters, roiling with intensity, suspicion, and affection. The set pieces, meanwhile, have vigor and snap, sharply orchestrated blurs of punchy violence and graceful athleticism. Still, it’s the personal progression that really shocked me. I’ll be thinking about the beautiful last shot of this shockingly beautiful series for a long time. Read More
Tier 3: Double-honorable mention 30. Mythic Quest (Apple, Season 2; last year: 17 of 124). Two seasons in, Mythic Quest seems to have developed a critical reputation as a serviceable office sitcom with a periodic gift for telling stellar standalone stories. I agree that the series’ best installments are its departures—Season 2’s is actually a double feature, first set in a gloriously unglamorous 1970s writing studio, then flashing back to the present day and bringing in William Hurt (while also affording F. Murray Abraham the chance to deliver the line, “I’m gonna fuck his wife”)—but I think this description underrates it. Front to back, Mythic Quest remains a deeply enjoyable show, with an excellent cast, snappy writing, and a brisk pace. And those moments of isolation aren’t the only instances of formal cleverness; there’s also a bottle episode here that brilliantly leverages the actors’ collective talent for hurling choice insults. (Charlotte Nicdao’s perpetually thwarted designer remains the MVP, though Caitlin McGee’s cheery basement dweller deserves more screen time.) Franchise bloat is real, but some games have earned the right to keep churning out sequels. Read More
Tier 4: Steadily approaching greatness 40. What We Do in the Shadows (FX, Season 3; last year: 25 of 124). It’s still funny. The third season of this vampire comedy isn’t quite as restlessly imaginative as the prior go-round, but it doesn’t require reinvention. It’s firmly established its identity, and the actors now inhabit their goofy characters with absolute authority. What We Do in the Shadows is sneakily sweet, too, whether it’s charting the wounded alienation of Kayvan Novak’s sulky Nandor or following the strange, burgeoning friendship between Matt Berry’s hedonistic Laszlo and the buttoned-up Colin Robinson. (I know that the latter is played by Mark Proksch, but it really just seems like Colin Robinson is a character who sprang from the earth rather than one who’s portrayed by an actor.) The ostensible curse of vampirism is that after spending hundreds of year undead, life loses its meaning. That may be, but as of now, this effortlessly enjoyable series remains comfortably, vibrantly alive. Read More