35 Best Apple TV Shows Right Now

Starring the Cate Blanchett and directed by Alfonso Cuaron, Disclaimer is every bit as cinematic and enjoyable as you’d imagine it to be. It’s juicy and well-performed (Hoyeon’s unnatural acting notwithstanding), filled with enough twists and turns to keep you seated despite the occasionally melodramatic plot. It’s designed to make you crave more: more rich acting, more pulpy mystery, more explosive secrets, and more emotional breakdowns, which Blanchett has certainly mastered. It’s not as deep as it thinks itself to be, and the script can be overwrought at times (do we really need every single movement narrated?) but the fun twists, great performances, and beautiful cinematography more than makes up for them.

Shining Girls is painful to watch. How could it not be, when it follows the serial and brutal murders of female victims? Even when the series is told through the lens of sole survivor Kirby (played by the excellent Elisabeth Moss), we witness the indelible effects of assault and trauma. Kirby’s sense of reality shifts; time is circular and memories are provisional. She’s an unreliable source in her own story. 

And yet Shining Girls is also necessary to watch. It’s one of those stories where pain is the point, and it brings you close enough to the scene of the crime that it feels wrong to pull away too soon–not until you pull through the ending. 

As always, Moss is unrelentingly intense as she takes us through the deepest corners of the victim she portrays, but a strong supporting cast also rounds off the performances. Jamie Bell is particularly haunting as the yet-to-be-discovered killer. 

In a TV age where dark comedies and slick satires are all the rage, The Completely Made-Up Adventures of Dick Turpin is refreshingly light, good-hearted fun. Its humor leans on the surreal, silly, and slapstick, but it doesn’t necessarily sacrifice smarts for a laugh. Here, the legendary robber is reimagined as a reluctant criminal who is more interested in knitting and doing his friends good, a rather sweet fool who unwittingly stands at the opposite end of toxic masculinity. There are jokes about equal pay and light commentaries on class inequality (Turpin and his so-called Essex Gang want to only rob the inordinately wealthy), and you’d think it was all too much, but the show achieves a confident, balanced tone that’s hard to question.

You can tell showrunner David E. Kelley, who played a part in legal dramas and mysteries like Boston Legal, Ally McBeal, and Big Little Lies, is a master of the genre. Presumed Innocent is carefully paced, confidently performed, and smartly written, making it a thrilling watch regardless if you’ve seen the 1990 feature and 1987 novel of the same name. It’s not without its misses though, the biggest one being the lack of believable chemistry between Gyllenhaal and Reinsve, who seems miscast in this series. As much as I loved her in The Worst Person in the World, she seems to exude an awkward sensuality that affects the realism of the series. On the other hand, Ruth Negga, who plays Gyllenhaal’s wife, and Peter Sarsgaard, who plays his political rival, command every scene they’re in and perfectly match Gyllenhaal’s crazed intensity. Whenever the show skews formulaic, it’s their solid performances that save the scene.

It’s one of the oldest problems in the history of mankind: can men and women be friends? Romantic comedies, since their inception, have tried to answer this question in various quirky ways, and almost always, the answer is a resounding no. The two leads must end up together because the chemistry is too strong, and besides, love can only end in romance. Right? Platonic is one of a handful of shows that knows there’s no straightforward answer to that question. It’s thoughtful and nuanced as it subverts rom-com expectations and refuses to rush into a template happy ending. Even more impressive is the fact that it gives us a hefty dose of reality while still being light-hearted, funny, and charming. Whether that’s thanks to the easy chemistry between Sylvia and Will (played by longtime collaborators Rose Bryne and Seth Rogen) or to the refreshing experience of having a familiar dilemma be treated with newfound profundity, there’s no doubt that Platonic puts a fresh new spin on the genre.

The first thing that hits you about Sugar is its style: this is a show tailor-made for fans of a bygone Hollywood era, an era dominated by film noir and dapper leading men like Humphrey Bogart, whom Sugar emulates throughout the series. The show inserts clips from old films and, even better, echoes their style through tasteful jumpcuts and fisheye lenses. It’s dripping with panache, and Farrell is undeniably cool as he narrates his investigation and inner demons. That said, Sugar is also a show that’s more style than substance. If you strip it off its snazzy clothes, you’re left with the barest bones of a mystery that is simply too cliched to stand on its own. If you’re looking to dive into a heady mystery with surprising twists and thrills, you’re better off watching something else. However, if you’re a true blue fan of vintage noir, the kind who still puts TCM on religiously and swears nothing new can compare to the old, then this is your show.

By now, it’s pretty clear that Apple TV+ follows a less-is-more philosophy when it comes to content. Sure, it doesn’t release a million new titles in a year like Netflix or Prime, but the few originals that it does put out are almost always good (and occasionally great), backed by an astounding budget and ambitious vision. Sunny is the latest addition to that category. The multi-genre show is a deceptively simple robo-buddy comedy that is engaging through and through. Yes, it’s futuristic—and fantastic in that regard—but it’s also funny, heartwarming, thrilling, and tragic. And it juggles all these effortlessly so that the other aspects of the show, such as the artful blend of tradition and tech, can shine through.

With its first episode, The Changeling might feel less scary and more romantic and historical than how a horror fantasy would seem like. The series shifts in and out of flashbacks, sometimes even having a flashback within a flashback, with dreamlike sequences that makes it take a while to figure out when and where the story is taking place. This causes the series to have some unusual pacing that might turn off viewers wanting a quick scare. But there’s a certain mystery to it, a certain anxiety captured as Apollo and Emmy disobey the Brazilian witch, as it recalls those negligent parents in familiar fantastic fairy tales. And as the series makes their flashbacks, there’s a certain fear that Apollo and Emmy might redo the same mistakes their immigrant parents have done before them. It makes for an intriguing take on the novel by Victor LaValle, one that captures a realistic fear that isn’t easy to depict.

Just when you think you’ve heard enough origin stories for a lifetime, in comes Me with probably the most poignant one yet: 12-year-old Ben, overcome with so much anxiety and yearning to be someplace else, transformers into a different person. Though Me is outwardly a sci-fi show, and the main plot is fueled with mystery and fantasy, it’s also an emotionally attuned, self-aware coming-of-age story that follows Ben through his ups and downs. Almost overnight, he gains a new sister, a new school, a new set of classmates to figure out, and unlike most superhero narratives, these are just as confounding and important to Ben as his powers. There is no double life, it’s all just him. But the best thing about Me is that despite its G rating, it’s just as enjoyable for adults as it is for kids. It’s not cheesy or corny, but gentle and comforting, and you learn lots about yourself in the process.

Apple TV+’s stunning Omnivore is sleek and stylish enough to make it stand out from the usual food and travel shows you might find on TV. There are expertly shot scenes from around the world, exclusive interviews, and maybe best of all, a well-written script that’s just as colorful and delectable as the dishes onscreen. Each episode, which hones in on a specific ingredient like corn or chili, has a tight runtime at just 30 minutes, making it extremely bingeable (though ideally not on an empty stomach). That said, the show might be too polished for viewers who are expecting the gritty and immersive approach of a chef like Anthony Bourdain. Omnivore, for all its explorative language, is suspiciously idyllic at times, all too eager to paint the global food industry as a harmonious process as opposed to an enterprise that is involved in global warming, animal poaching, and deforestation, among others. Every industry has a dark side, and I just wished the show appreciated the nuance in that. Still, it’s an engaging watch with glowing moments.