Ranking Every TV Show of 2018: #s 30-11

Patricia Clarkson, Eliza Scanlen, and Amy Adams in "Sharp Objects".

We’re ranking every TV show that we watched in 2018. For prior installments, check out the following links:

#s 93-71
#s 70-51
#s 50-31


30. Forever (Amazon, Season 1). What if you ascended to Heaven, only to discover that Heaven is boring? That’s essentially the premise of Forever, a strange, unpredictable, occasionally frustrating, often wonderful show starring Maya Rudolph and Fred Armisen as a married couple slated to spend eternity living in the same comfortably boring house; they’re supposed to be content, but they gradually realize that contentment is the opposite of fulfillment. Running a tidy eight half-hour episodes, Forever can nevertheless be listless in its storytelling, and its conclusion lacks the personal and thematic clarity that it clearly desired. But the show is still powerful and surprising, exploring human connection in ways both intimate and sweeping. The obvious high point is the sixth episode, a bottle installment starring Hong Chau and Jason Mitchell that exists entirely on its own yet boldly advances the series’ textured portrait of relationships and regrets. It may not last forever, but you’ll be thinking about it for a long, long time. Read More

Ranking Every TV Show of 2018: #s 50-31

Kristen Bell and Jameela Jamil in "The Good Place".

Our rankings of every 2018 TV show continue below. For prior installments, check out the following links:

#s 93-71
#s 70-51


50. Legion (FX, Season 2; last year: 29 of 108). Following a fascinating first season that attempted to turn standard superhero entertainments inside out, Legion feels a bit too self-important in its second go-round, too focused on touting its originality without actually advancing a compelling story. It also marginalizes its greatest asset—Aubrey Plaza’s magnificently off-kilter performance—while simultaneously padding out the season with a number of episodes that never really go anywhere. Still, this remains a staggeringly impressive show, with bracing technique and a bold command of lighting, framing, and music. The storyline doesn’t always work, and as gifted an artist as Noah Hawley is, he’d be well-served to tighten things up going forward. But even when it’s nonsensical, Legion always offers something to see. Read More

Ranking Every TV Show of 2018: #s 70-51

We’re ranking every TV show that we watched in 2018. If you missed Part I, you can find it here. And remember: Despite their relatively low appearance on the year-end rankings, these shows are still pretty good.


70. Jack Ryan (Amazon, Season 1). There’s nothing fancy about Jack Ryan, a hunter-killer thriller starring John Krasinski as Tom Clancy’s heroic CIA “analyst”—previously played on the big screen by Alec Baldwin, Ben Affleck, and of course Harrison Ford—and Wendell Pierce as his no-nonsense boss. It’s a taut, plotty procedural about smart good guys trying to catch smart bad guys. In 2018, there’s something a little icky about yet another story of dastardly Islamic terrorists scheming to cripple the United States, and despite a nuanced portrayal from Ali Suliman as the big bad, Jack Ryan often feels like a coarse campaign ad for foreign-policy hawks. But the show is best viewed through an apolitical lens, and as a suspense piece, it mostly works, with well-choreographed action scenes and a smartly paced story. Unlike its protagonist, Jack Ryan isn’t going to save the world, but it can provide an enjoyable distraction from it. Read More

Ranking Every TV Show of 2018: Part I

In the year of Our Lord, two thousand eighteen, I stopped watching The Walking Dead.

Now, as sinful confessions go, that may not seem all that damning. But as someone who’s spent the past five years of his life watching an inordinate amount of television, it seems significant that I at long last bailed on a program where I’d invested so much time (107 episodes!). And looking back on my TV viewing of 2018, I’m not sure what’s more disturbing: that I watched 93 different series in their entirety, or that this figure represented a 14% decrease from the 108 shows that I watched in 2017. It seems absurd that I can feel apologetic for failing to hit triple digits for the second straight year, but in the era of #PeakTV, too much is never enough.

The Walking Dead wasn’t the only casualty of my newfound choosiness. Typically, once I start a series, I stick with it until it dies, but this year I failed to make time for new seasons of a handful of floundering shows, including Hap and Leonard, House of Cards, Iron Fist, The Man in the High Castle, Outcast (ugh, Cinemax), The Path, and (most regrettably) Harlots. I also started watching a handful of new series—The Alienist, Black Lightning, Electric Dreams—only to stall out after 3–4 episodes. I wish I could have seen all of these, but #PeakTV has a cruel way of making time speed up; there are so many shows, and so few hours in which to watch them. Read More

Glass: The Supervillains Are Running the Asylum

Samuel L. Jackson, James McAvoy, and Bruce Willis in M. Night Shyamalan's "Glass".

One of the main characters of M. Night Shyamalan’s Glass suffers from dissociative identity disorder. That illness is not shared by its director. Shyamalan may have his flaws, but he wields his camera with a confidence, a sense of self, that’s unusual in the Hollywood studio system. Good thing, too, because when reduced to its building blocks, Glass is a ridiculous movie, a bizarrely plotted thriller that makes astonishingly little sense. Yet it also flaunts a genuine personality, along with an exhilarating degree of style, that elevate it comfortably above its stupidity. There’s a school of critics who insist that Shyamalan should stop penning his own screenplays, arguing that his shaky writing hampers his gifts as a director. Maybe that’s true, but consider the flip side: How many other filmmakers could have taken this script and turned it into something so effortlessly, indecently entertaining?

An ungainly, tantalizing hybrid of two superior genre movies, Glass positions itself as the climax of a suddenly uncovered cinematic universe. Way back in 2000, Unbreakable—still Shyamalan’s best film—followed the uneasy partnership between David Dunn (Bruce Willis) and Elijah Price (Samuel L. Jackson), with the latter insistently tugging at the former to accept his destiny as a real-life superhero. Separately, Split followed the murderous exploits of Kevin Wendell Crumb (James McAvoy), a Sybil-like serial killer who occasionally transformed into a savage, animal-like entity called The Beast. Shyamalan is often accused of repeating himself, but these two movies weren’t remotely alike in terms of either plot or tone; Unbreakable was a powerful study of obsession, confusion, and self-discovery, whereas Split was a hammy, razor-sharp, predator-versus-prey thriller. Yet the (admittedly delightful) stinger of Split revealed that it in fact occupied the same world as Unbreakable, and from those still-glowing ashes, Glass was born. Read More