The 15 Best TV Shows of 2024

15. ‘Clipped’

Donald Sterling, played with a brilliant mix of buffoonish villainy and cunning entitlement by Ed O’Neill, is the key to “Clipped.” Watching the former owner of the Los Angeles Clippers lose the basketball empire he cherishes is, at first, hilarious. His bigoted views are painful to hear, knowing they come from a man of considerable wealth (and thus considerable influence), but they’re also so plainly stupid and self-defeating that you can’t help but savor every time his foot slams into his mouth. He rejects the idea of trading for a coveted sharpshooter because the player is… white? He doesn’t like when his Black assistant is seen at games with other guests who are… Black? There are plenty of other juicy, ludicrous details exposed in “Clipped’s” six-episode sprint, but the focus slowly pivots away from accountability — a wise move, given most of viewers likely already know Sterling loses the team — and starts examining the structures in place to that keep Sterling’s scandal a one-man show. Instead of treating this old, white, wealthy man as the one bad apple in a league of old, white, wealthy men — owners who just so happen to control the financial fates of hundreds of Black men — “Clipped” reframes Sterling’s privilege as protection, his oblivious antics as the behavior of someone who knows he can’t be brought down completely. Not in this league. Not in this country. With sharp performances to match showrunner Gina Welch’s shrewd scripts, “Clipped” becomes so much more than just an indictment of one man. As usual, our problems run deeper than one guy named Donald. —Ben Travers

Read IndieWire’s full review of “Clipped.”

14. ‘True Detective: Night Country’

In his review of “True Detective” Season 4, IndieWire’s Ben Travers was right to point out the thorny path that brought viewers to Jodie Foster’s problematic heartthrob Captain Liz Danvers: The steely 2024 lead in HBO’s prestige crime anthology formerly was preceded by the likes of Matthew McConaughey, Colin Farrell, and Mahershala Ali… to varying degrees of success. And yet, even without knowing its hilly history and the dramatic obstacles therein, an unmissable self-assuredness makes Issa López’s women-driven “Night Country” stand out as a creative accomplishment. It outdoes not just what disenchanted viewers might have come to expect from the once dwindling drama (pour one out of Rachel McAdams in Season 2), but also what genre obsessives have been taught to accept by way of stale modern thrillers routinely attempting to pass off futile punctiliousness for compelling plot.

Set in the pitch-black night and day of wintery Alaska, and for the first time without the involvement of original “True Detective” creator Nic Pizzolatto, this elite mystery sees writer/EP López working with Barry Jenkins’ PASTEL and co-writer/EP Chris Mundy to craft a spine-tingling (tongue-ripping?) tale of disappeared research scientists in the snowy town of Ennis, where tricks of the imagination smartly blur the line between dark fantasy and tangible fear. Yes, the specter of the supernatural has long hung over “True Detective,” but “Night Country” allows the iterative nature of Danvers’ particularly badass detective-work to propel a frenetic investigation anchored in evidence with even more erratic thawing speeds. She’s joined by her punchy partner in crime, Evangeline Navarro (pro-boxer Kali Reis, more than holding her own), and the pair’s tense dynamic is reflected across a gorgeously shadowy world of enemies: the kind that demands we constantly reconsider the facts while making time to still coin words like “corpsicle.” —Alison Foreman

Read IndieWire’s episode reviews of “True Detective: Night Country.”

13. ‘One Day’

Based on a beloved bestseller that then became a not-so-beloved movie, Netflix’s “One Day” limited series was a surprise hit when it debuted in February starring Leo Woodall (“The White Lotus”) and Ambika Mod as the star-crossed, would-be lovers. The smart conceit checks in on the duo on the same day every year, so fans can binge-watch them growing up, trying on new personas, and dealing with heartbreak and unrequited love. Romantic tragedies live and die by their central chemistry and Mod and Woodall had that in spades, finding a depth to the two that the 2011 movie adaptation couldn’t hold a candle to.

The limited series format is put to good use, allowing each moment time to breath and fans to really get to know the two’s individual worlds. It’ll put fans through the emotional wringer, but for my money, there’s no better cathartic cry to be had this year. It’s a moving delight that will stick with you long past the bittersweet final frames. —Erin Strecker

Read IndieWire’s full review of “One Day.”

12. ‘Tokyo Vice’

While it may feel like everything is going to shit these days, at least the spirit of Michael Mann remains alive and well. “Ferrari” ripped, “Heat 2” is on the verge of expanding from book to screen, and “Tokyo Vice” ended in such thrilling fashion, Mann himself must have been pumping his fists in delight. Produced by the master of masculine paradoxes himself (after directing the series’ pilot episode), J.T. Rogers’ immersive late-‘90s period piece only got better in its anticipated follow-up season. Following an American reporter and a Japanese detective as they try to prevent the yakuza crime syndicate from reclaiming control of the city, “Tokyo Vice” managed to balance its irresistibly cool vibes with enticing character development and steadily propulsive storytelling. Its nearly impeccable cast (including veteran ace Ken Watanabe and young break-out Show Kasamatsu) was always sparking, its slick production took advantage of unprecedented access to Tokyo, and its impossibly satisfying finale managed to provide closure and anticipation in equal measure. For a series about the dangers faced by uncompromising men, “Tokyo Vice” was able to follow their tenacious lead all the way through to the end — without losing its head. —BT

Read IndieWire’s full review of “Tokyo Vice” Season 2.

11. ‘Baby Reindeer’

Every few seasons, a TV show comes along that grips both audiences and critics like nothing else; a show that every person in every social interaction wants to talk about; that skyrockets on the streaming charts and is poised to sweep with awards. Sometimes it’s even a Netflix show, but it’s not one that looks like a crowd favorite on paper.

Enter “Baby Reindeer,” based on Richard Gadd’s one-man show of the same name which covered his real-life experiences with stalking and sexual assault. Over the course of seven episodes, Donny (Gadd) meets, shows compassion for, and then rapidly tries to distance himself from Martha (Jessica Gunning), a troubled woman who fixates on him and refers to him fondly as “reindeer.” Martha’s attention forces Donny to look to his own past — specifically, a prior relationship that left him seeking comfort and validation, feelings he can’t help find in Martha despite wanting her to leave him alone. Gadd’s writing and mastery of the material provide a clear blueprint and north star for the series, which blooms spectacularly with Gunning’s scene work. The next “Baby Reindeer” won’t look like “Baby Reindeer,” but we’ll be thinking about this one for a long time. —Proma Khosla

Read IndieWire’s interview with “Baby Reindeer” breakout Jessica Gunning.

10. ‘Interview with the Vampire’

The latest resurrection of Anne Rice’s soul-shaking gothic novel continued to pull off small miracles in Season 2, delivering more exquisite melodrama through the most self-possessed vampiric finger-pointing ever put on prestige television. Capitalizing on the instant chemistry we’d already seen oh-so-formidably established between Jacob Anderson’s Louis de Pointe du Lac and Sam Reid’s Lestat de Lioncourt — as cunningly framed by Eric Bogosian’s titular inquirer, Daniel Molloy — the sophomore installments of “Interview with the Vampire” culminated in one of the year’s best episodes before an equally satisfying finale that suggested its own answer when asking, “Did you hurt yourself?”

Showrunner Rolin Jones has long had viewers in a chokehold with his show’s overt casting genius (still no small feat in the wake of the beloved 1994 film), and he made not just good but gold on the promise of Anderson and Reid’s crackling connection with a taut he said-he said that quietly healed nearly 50 years of tortured readership with its algebraic climax and very literary conclusion. Not for wont of bloody spectacle, “IWTW” Season 2 resulted in a poetic reunion that saw two of TV’s most mesmeric performers staring into each other’s depths for a masterclass in narrative table setting. It’s also a spectacular ode to indulgent theatricality and performance that seriously considers the complexities of trauma, abuse, and time with finesse. Toss in the remarkably successful recasting of Claudia (well done, Delaine Hayles!) and AMC’s flagship dark romance remains a testament to the everlasting pull of the angst-ridden undead… and Rice’s continually bewitching universe of feeling, of course. —AF

Read IndieWire’s full guide to “Interview with the Vampire” Season 2.

9. ‘Ripley’

“I love it when a plan comes together” may be a line forever associated with “The A-Team,” but I wouldn’t be surprised if a few Netflix subscribers muttered it to themselves during Steven Zaillian’s “Ripley” adaptation. No, I don’t expect anyone was eager to give Andrew Scott’s ruthless killer additional credit for his less-than-meticulous trickery. This Tom Ripley may put the “confidence” in “confidence man,” but his continued scams succeed through assumed privilege and augmented confusion more than anything else. He’s barely smart enough to stay a step ahead of the law, so his plans don’t “come together” as much as they’re jammed into place just long enough for him to scurry out from under their collapse.

No, the credit for a brilliant plan, well-executed, belongs solely with Zaillian, the Oscar-winning screenwriter and four-time Emmy nominee whose second stab at serialized storytelling (after 2016’s “The Night Of”) proves just as arrestingly methodical as his first. Shot by shot, scene by scene, episode by episode, “Ripley” carries itself with an assuredness rarely seen in television. Robert Elswit’s black-and-white cinematography evolves from a period-appropriate evocation of Italian cinema into something more menacing and ethereal. As Tom falls deeper and deeper into a sinful perdition of his own making, so too do the streets and rooms that surround him. Mirroring the cat-and-mouse pursuit of the main plot, “Ripley’s” world is one that’s continually narrowing, muddying, and crumbling. It’s Zaillian who guides you through Tom’s dangerous getaway with the same self-confidence as his lead character — and far more skill. —BT

Read IndieWire’s full review of “Ripley.”

8. ‘A Man on the Inside’

Among the many glowing reviews given to Mike Schur’s latest benevolent sitcom, I’ve seen a few nagging complaints regarding the Netflix comedy’s low stakes — mainly, that the series’ approach to end-of-life care is too shallow, too light, and too conflict-averse. While I would never besmirch viewers for showing the courage to ask for an honest conversation about our ultimate fate, whether it’s how to best prepare for death ourselves or how to cope with death when it happens to our loved ones, “A Man on the Inside” works to resolve these questions in ways that aren’t just accessible and tender (which mesh nicely with the show’s core comedic sensibilities) but are also healthy and profound.

As Charles (Ted Danson) goes about his investigation, he meets a variety of individuals — cranky fearful types, people living in denial, and even some who’ve found inner peace — but each member of the retirement community nevertheless shares one thing in common: They’re all about to die. They’re all closer to death than they’ve ever been, which is technically true for all of us — each passing second inching us closer to the end — but feels uncomfortably, claustrophobically near for anyone residing in an assisted living facility. When Charles walks by the memory care unit, the weight of that proximity presses down on him. The oft-chatty, always friendly fellow suddenly clams up. He keeps it at arm’s length. Looking through the doors sends him spinning, as if on the other side lies the great beyond itself.

How Charles tames that fear isn’t simple, easy, or straightforward. He meets a woman, Gladys (Susan Ruttan), suffering from dementia — just as his late wife did — and has to learn all over again how to communicate, connect, and help as best he can. At the same time, he must alter lifelong habits that keep him at a distance from his daughter, Emily (Mary Elizabeth Ellis), before it’s too late. Finally, he needs to move on from losing the love of his life if he hopes to enjoy the life he has left — a task that the series builds toward quietly, steadily, and honestly. Charles’ conflicts are internal, and the relative grace he brings to confronting them may make them seem easily defused, but the raw power of Danson’s earnest performance as well as the lived-in understanding of his daily difficulties — a million little moments as opposed to one massive, sudden crisis — speak volumes to what it’s like to face the end of all we know. (The show relies on a repeated montage of Charles getting out of bed each morning, for Pete’s sake.)

“A Man on the Inside” is a sitcom — a very funny sitcom, and a sitcom that’s not interested in abandoning its jokes in favor of darker drama. But it doesn’t neglect the struggle inherent to its central character, either. The stakes are life and death in the sense that Charles could very well die before he figures out how to live. The conflicts arise as he works the case, sure, but they’re also present in his relationships, his understanding of them, and how we come to know each other, really know each other, before we’re stuck guessing, wondering, adrift. “A Man on the Inside” gets to the heart of the matter, while setting itself up to do so again and again in future seasons. Meeting our end is never a simple conversation. But Schur’s show makes it clear why having it is so critical — and rewarding. —BT

Read IndieWire’s interview with “A Man on the Inside” creator Mike Schur.

7. ‘Pachinko’

It takes an extraordinary level of care and skill to pull of a show like “Pachinko” — and exponentially more to do it again. The second season of Soo Hugh’s Apple TV+ drama is as stirring and magnetic as the first, adding emotional heft with every episode as it continues to unfold Min Jin Lee’s novel.

Season 2 continues Sunja’s (Minha Kim) story from the 1940s, as well as her life in the present with her son and grandson. Hugh described the season to IndieWire as “a juggling act of storylines,” with characters moving around more than ever and the biggest wild card of all: child actors. The young talent came in to portray Sunja’s sons Noa and Mozasu at different ages (Tae Joo Kang and Kang-hoon Kim; Eunseong Kwon and Mansaku Takada) so that “Pachinko” could continue building out its central family, especially the young adult Noa (Kang) and his ultimate decision to leave the family behind. From the family’s stint in the rice fields to every interaction between Sunja and Hansu (Lee Min-ho) to the charged relationship between Solomon (Jin Ha) and Naomi (Anna Sawai) in the present, there’s rarely a missed emotional beat in Season 2, all of it superbly directed and edited across a long list of locations.

And that new title sequence? Yeah, we love it. —PK

Read IndieWire’s review of “Pachinko” Season 2.

6. ‘Industry’

By now, it’s a cliché to say “everything has been building to this” about almost anything, but especially TV shows. Of course it has. That’s how serialized stories work. But with “Industry” Season 3, the building has been going on behind the scenes. Creators Konrad Kay and Mickey Down had never made a TV show before their HBO financial drama got green lit, and the first two seasons showed a number of growing pains. Then came the jump. Technically, Season 2 cranked things up a few notches, too, but Season 3 is something special — the kind of creative innovation that stems from equal parts determination and desperation. Kay and Down have said that they burn through their best ideas every season, holding nothing back — in part because they’re never sure if they’ll get to continue. “Industry” has been renewed for Season 4, but I don’t expect that to slow them down. The relentless pace, the rapid-fire decisions, the make-or-break moments that can pass by in a heartbeat — they’re all integral to the lives led by these desperate young bankers, hoping to make enough money to secure their jobs, to prove their mettle, or to live their fantasies. The result is a Season 3 that’s thrillingly relentless. Every episode feels like another show’s season finale, and when you finally reach the end, the cumulative effect of all that drama proves as crushing as it is exhilarating. Everything that came before — and I do mean every single thing — is worth it. —BT

Read IndieWire’s interview with “Industry” creators Mickey Down and Konrad Kay.

5. ‘Fantasmas’

Yes, that’s Emma Stone in the above photograph, one of many enriching and uproarious guest stars populating Julio Torres’ HBO dreamworld. Stone, who also produces “Fantasmas,” plays a reality TV star known for “The True Women of New York,” a “Real Housewives” spoof that starts to collapse in on itself when Stone’s Genevieve starts to notice the artificiality all around her. Part “Truman Show,” part demented sketch, Stone’s role is a small one in the grand scheme of “Fantasmas,” but it perfectly illustrates what makes Torres’ debut season so exciting. Simultaneously imaginative and pointed, inviting and unique, the half-hour comedy’s structure blends a compelling central narrative (Julio needs to find employment and a place to live without sacrificing his principles!) with surreal detours that could come from anywhere. Maybe Julio is watching a TV show in the back of a taxi, or he overhears a commercial while waiting for his doctor, or he meets a stranger with a beguiling backstory — Julio’s mind never stops working, and being invited to watch it tick proves incredibly entertaining. Given the fine line between Juilo the character in “Fantasmas” and the Julio the creator of “Fantasmas,” that’s the least surprising thing here. —BT

Read IndieWire’s full review of “Fantasmas.”

4. ‘Expats’

In its opening monologue, “Expats” centers the “perpetrators,” as Mercy calls them. Though we don’t yet know her, the young, forlorn woman played magnificently by Ji-young Yoo is fixated on understanding people who are often cast aside when disaster strikes. “[Tragic] stories always focus on the victim,” she says. “The person responsible for each calamity is never mentioned. No one wants to hear about the kid who paralyzed his own brother, or the driver who fell asleep at the wheel. […] But I want to know about the perpetrators. I want to know about the people who caused the tragedies — people like me. Are they ever forgiven? Do they ever move on?”

Soon, we come to learn what tragedy Mercy blames herself for: the disappearance of a three-year-old boy named Gus. But rather than focus on the search to find him (like in most shows), “Expats” focuses on his mother, Margaret (Nicole Kidman), who can’t move past her son’s abduction, even when her husband and remaining kids still need her. Then there’s Hilary (Sarayu Blue), Margaret’s neighbor, who blames herself for a failing marriage, despite her husband’s obvious flaws. And, of course, there’s Mercy. She was supposed to be watching Gus, and the guilt is steadily eroding her soul.

How these three women’s lives overlap (beyond the obvious) is striking. Writer-director Lulu Wang (“The Farewell”) builds from relatable archetypes and themes, making “Expats” easy to identify with, before pushing each character to make choices that aren’t so empathetic; to see things from another perspective, even when it seems impossible to look beyond something bigger than yourself; to acknowledge what it means to forgive and what really requires your forgiveness. The answers are anything but trite, and each hourlong entry proves surprising — both in what takes place and whose perspective you’re pulled into. Episode 5, “Central,” expands the six-part series in ways that should be impossible for such a nimble, nuanced story, and the finale is a sly yet magnificent blend of ambiguity and catharsis. You may think you don’t need to hear about the perpetrators. But aren’t we all perpetrators of some crime? Haven’t we all contributed to another human’s hardship? And don’t we all deserve a bit of grace from others when we’re unable to give it to ourselves? —Ben Travers

Read IndieWire’s full review of “Expats.”

3. ‘Hacks’

“Hacks” has always been one of TV’s best comedies, but the third season — which found Deborah Vance (Jean Smart) campaigning to be named the new host of a late-night show — took things to another level.

Whip-smart on a line-for-line level (“bisexual Gumby” alone deserves an award), it was also expertly plotted with real stakes, not to mention typically amazing work from the entire cast (in these installments, Hannah Einbinder as Ava really stands out). Guest stars, including J. Smith-Cameron, Tony Goldwyn, Helen Hunt, and more were well-deployed treats, and it builds to a genuinely surprising, satisfying finale that seemed perfectly inevitable only in hindsight. We can’t wait to see how the writers mine even more depth from the Deborah/Ava relationship, but we have no doubt that there are plenty more laughs and surprises in store for TV’s best dynamic duo. —ES

Read IndieWire’s full review of “Hacks.”

2. ‘Shōgun’

As far as sweeping historical epics go, perhaps the highest compliment they can hope to receive is something along the lines of, “Hot damn, that was fun!” OK, OK — “fun” may not be the perfect word to describe a wartime saga with so many betrayals and so many severed heads it’s consistently compared to “Game of Thrones,” but “Shōgun” is still way more entertaining than any subtitled 17th century drama has any right to be. Credit the incredible cast (especially affably humorous turns from Tadanobu Asano and Nestor Carbonell), exquisite scripts (which were translated from English to Japanese and back again to ensure both accuracy and clarity), and immersive craft work (with everything from the tactile costumes to the towering set design) for bringing it all together — all of which better get their due at this year’s Emmys. After gifting audiences with 10 weeks of awesome entertainment, these folks deserve their own night of pure fun. —BT

Read IndieWire’s full review of “Shōgun.”

1. ‘Somebody Somewhere’

Sweet, kind-hearted comedies are often described as “feeling like a warm hug,” but few series have so thoroughly embodied every implication of that act like “Somebody Somewhere.” Hugs, to most people, are nice — unless you’re my friend Jeremy. Jeremy suffers from an undiagnosed psychological aversion to physical contact. He understands that certain social niceties require greeting friends with a welcoming embrace, but if a stranger were to suddenly wrap their arms around him, he would be incredibly uncomfortable. He would — and I know this because I’ve seen him do it — politely twist away from their point of contact, disengaging and distancing himself from the vexing sign of affection.

Watching “Somebody Somewhere” reminded me of Jeremy precisely because, at first blush, I felt uncomfortable within the show’s figurative grasp. It was like the TV version of a hug was coming in too fast, too early, assuming we were familiar enough to meet this way each week when, in reality, we were still strangers. But over time, I came to recognize the show wasn’t the one in the wrong. I was wrong. I was pushing away something good, suspicious it was too good to be true, and I learned my mistake by watching Sam (Bridget Everett) go through the exact same process. She, too, is suspicious of the kind strangers who welcome her back to Manhattanville, KS. Later, she’ll be suspicious of their friendship, and this season, she finally confronts the suspicion she feels toward herself — that she may not deserve their affection, that she may not deserve happiness, that she may not deserve love.

As anyone who’s struggled with similar self-doubts knows all too well, you can’t simply say, “Yes, I do deserve love!” and suddenly believe it. An act of faith is required — usually quite a few, over and over, for an extended period of time. It could be reaching out when you’re feeling lonely, speaking up when you’re scared to share, or simply holding someone who needs to be held. We all need to be held sometimes, and “Somebody Somewhere” knows it may take a few tries, but eventually the hug will take. It did for me, and yes, it even did for Jeremy. We both love “Somebody Somewhere,” and who knows, maybe it brought us a little bit closer to loving ourselves. —BT

IndieWire’s best TV show of the year! Read our new chat with the creators and Bridget Everett to celebrate our No. 1 pick.

Honorable Mention: ‘The Acolyte’

If you had told me I’d care deeply about a new Star Wars series in 2024, that would be enough to garner disbelief. But if you told me that series would also star primarily queer actors and people of color, that it would have secret twins and space witches, and that it would pave the way for one of the hottest and horniest villain stories in the wider canon — nay, the wider galaxy — I’d tell you to ease off the blue milk for life.

So thank you, Leslye Headland — Star Wars’ first queer female showrunner — for “The Acolyte,” a superb confluence of all those story elements that also weaves in High Republic lore and some groovy lightsaber combat for viewers who prefer that sort of thing (as opposed to the lure of an enemies-to-lovers subplot, which really transfixed this writer). The series gives us some of Star Wars’ best performances in Jacinto, Lee Jung-jae, and dual roles from Amandla Stenberg, and a skillfully paced back-half helped increase momentum in the month leading up to the July 16 finale. Whether you’ve always loved Star Wars, grown tired of extended universes, or just need a good mystery-thriller with killer chemistry, “The Acolyte” is here to impart its wisdom. —Proma Khosla

Read IndieWire’s full review of “The Acolyte.”

Honorable Mention: ‘After Midnight with Taylor Tomlinson’

Back in January through no fault of her own, “After Midnight” host Taylor Tomlinson saw the reboot of Comedy Central’s “At Midnight” off to a rocky start. Bad reviews are a right of passage for newcomers in the late-night programming block. But when CBS announced the intentionally awkward panel show — featuring comedians, web personalities, and actors exploring viral trends through improv competitions — some viewers expected a shinier celebrity talk show like the long-running “Late Late Show with James Corden.” What they got instead was an off-kilter spectator sport for comedy that’s always been pretty good for giggling on weeknights, but as a matter of construction continues to get a notch tighter with almost every other episode that airs.

With a monologue portion for Tomlinson finally added to the top of the show (the “Group Chat” segment wasn’t added until May, but it’s been night and day ever since), “After Midnight” is best described these days as “Whose Line Is It Anyway?” for the game show enthusiast with a passive but strong TikTok presence. It’s also akin to a less problematic “Tosh.0” with a nostalgic but still foul-mouthed feel boasting some of the best jackets to ever make TV history. (Seriously, where’s the Emmy category for making a simple blazer look that bisexual?)

Using a format designed to make its spit-fire host do a lot with a little, this zany ode to crosstalk is hugely dependent on the quality of its guests. Some nights are better than others, but everyone from Max Greenfield and Terry Crews to Tig Notaro and Andy Richter have appeared to partake in #HashtagWars, taking home useless prizes (ooh, New Year’s Eve glasses from 2009!) and occasional punishment (two words: contact list). It’s a chunky but likable conceit and further proof that, in stand-up, sometimes a well-placed recovery can surpass whatever joke you actually planned for that night. —AF

Honorable Mention: ‘Girls5eva’

Now on Netflix after being canceled at Peacock, Meredith Scardino’s side-splitting comedy about a ’90s girl group getting a second chance in their 40s doesn’t miss a beat in its third outing. Dawn (Sara Bareilles), Summer (Busy Phillips), Gloria (Paula Pell), and Wickie (Renée Elise Goldsberry) are back on the road, facing obstacles like conservative state senators and low-lesbian state crowds, all while continuing to reassess their return to performing and the baggage of their past. As a massive show at Radio City Music Hall draws closer and amps up the pressure, these former girls must stick together on the rocky road of resurgent fame.

The cast is as impeccable as they were in 2021, while Scardino and her team of writers and directors pack a potent punch with just six episodes instead of eight. (But why not eight? Heck, why not 12? Why not 36??) The soundtrack opens with Season 2’s “Tap Into Your (Fort) Worth” and includes more catchy pieces like “Get It Off Your Chest” and Wickie’s solo effort “Yesternights.” For fans of “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt” and “30 Rock,” “Girls5Eva” is a haven of punchlines and tongue-in-cheek splendor, a comedy series true to the genre that exists purely to make you howl with laughter. Even if it’s not 5eva, it was a hell of a run. —PK

Read IndieWire’s full review of “Girls5eva.”

Honorable Mention: ‘Jerrod Carmichael Reality Show’

Thank goodness Jerrod Carmichael didn’t listen to the man behind the mask (who’s certainly not Bo Burnham). In the first episode of “Reality Show,” the stand-up comedian’s latest envelope-pushing project, he’s told by an unnamed man wearing a black mask and ski goggles that this new series is a pretty terrible idea. “Dude, this is not a neutral eye,” he says, by way of explaining his concealed identity in front of Carmichael’s camera crew. “This is not truth. This is narrative. It will be edited by someone where the editing will all be choices. That’s not truth, and I have no access to that, so I’m like fuck that. You don’t get any of me.”

Not-Burnham is right, of course. “Reality Show” is biased. It tells a story. It has a central protagonist (Carmichael), and it’s designed to evoke reactions — reactions that are often critical of its titular star. Later on, Carmichael talks about how he feels honest and open when the cameras are rolling; that they allow him to feel safe while having difficult discussions with his parents, family, and friends. Of course, being on camera tends to have the opposite effect on everyone else, including Carmichael’s loved ones, but even this dichotomy illustrates “Reality Show’s” larger point.

After coming out in “Rothaniel,” Carmichael is trying to find himself — his true self, sans compromise — and that process may rub some people the wrong way. He just has to hope the people who really care about him will stick with him as he makes the mistakes that inevitably happen on a journey of self-discovery; that as he grows into his celebrity, his success, and his sexuality, they won’t overwhelm the part of himself they’ve always known and love; that they’ll see and hear him, despite the cameras. What Carmichael gives us in “Reality Show” isn’t the unfiltered truth, but it’s certainly a revealing self-portrait — one we can appreciate, learn from, and, just maybe, love. —BT

Read IndieWire’s full review of “Jerrod Carmichael: Reality Show.”

Honorable Mention: ‘John Mulaney Presents: Everybody’s in L.A.’

Would you look at that: With John Mulaney hosting a six-night extravaganza in May, Netflix finally cracked the live late-night puzzle. With comedians in town for Netflix’s Everything is a Joke Festival, the streamer gave Mulaney free reign to create a wild, loose talkfest centered on nightly LA topics like coyotes, the paranormal, and palm trees. With help from fellow comedians and experts on the episodic subjects, the show became a surprising thrill, with memorable call-in segments, pre-taped comedy bits, and even an adorable delivery robot, Saymo.

“You have Jerry Seinfeld, and he’s sitting next to a coyote expert. That was a North Star from the beginning,” Mulaney explained to IndieWire about his smart, compelling program. “So the fact that that specifically came together was really great.”

Amongst a streaming content glut, “Everybody’s in LA” managed to crackle with real energy, an anything-goes mentality that nevertheless was clearly driven with real purpose and ideas. No one knows exactly how or if late-night television is going to endure, but Mulaney’s brief foray makes the case that there’s still plenty to mine. More, please. —ES

Read IndieWire’s chat with John Mulaney about the Netflix show.