This creepy miniseries stars Jason Bateman, Bill Camp, and Ben Mendelsohn. Based on the Stephen King novel of the same name, it follows an investigation into the horrific murder of a child where all evidence leads to the local baseball coach, Terry Maitland (Bateman). However, Terry’s demeanor and his shock when the police come to arrest him raise questions about whether he actually committed the crime. It’s a grim and slow-burning story with immaculate acting although it suffers from the thing it aspires the most to: the (not entirely satisfying) book. Created by The Wire writer Richard Price.

What if the UK’s MI5 was run not by sleek secret agents, but rather, a bunch of second-rate, hand-me-down spies? Slow Horses gives us a taste of that as it centers on Slough House, a division of MI5 that serves as a detention center for their smart but hopelessly damaged goods.

In this six-part miniseries, the Slough House agents reluctantly exchange their humdrum duties for a big and unexpected case. Led by the eccentric Jackson Lamb (a very funny and effective Gary Oldman), they track a group of Right-wing terrorists and their hostage before it’s too late. With its brisk pace, endearingly bumbling characters, and deft balance of suspense and humor, Slow Horses might just be one of the finest thrillers out there. 

We Own This City is a six-part miniseries following the ins and outs of the Baltimore Police Department’s Gun Trace Task Force. Hailed by critics as the “spiritual successor to The Wire” (both shows were developed by David Simon), the gritty crime drama works as a smart and gripping exposé not just of the Baltimore police department, but of big and flawed institutions, in general, and the seeming inherence of corruption. The series is based on the book We Own This City: A True Story of Crime, Cops and Corruption by Baltimore Sun reporter Justin Fenton.

When Elle Fanning and Nicholas Hoult play power-hungry monarchs, what else more is there to say? The actors are very much in their element here, having already perfected similar roles in many films prior (one of them being The Favourite, which was co-written by The Great’s creator). They are the picture of elegance and royalty, and we need no convincing that they can hold 18th-century court. 

Which is why when The Great takes us into its true, crude depths, they transform from simply credible to incredible. Aided by a wonderfully offbeat cast and the one-two punch of a hilarious and raunchy script, Fanning and Hoult deliver splendidly. 

To be sure, this satirical show is not always funny. Sometimes, it takes dark turns to underscore the cruelty of the era, and other times it is genuinely moving in its drama. But this revisionist take on Russia’s Last Empress will always be a ball to watch, if only to see the artifice of aristocracy be stripped off and mocked with acerbic wit and might. 

Sabi, a genderfluid millennial in their mid-20s, is in a bit of a quarter-life crisis. Between balancing odd jobs, leaving a clingy boyfriend, and coming out to their family, Sabi just doesn’t have enough time to think about their identity, whatever that may be. Sabi is accused of being guarded, and indeed, in the first couple of episodes only we the omnipresent audience are privy to Sabi’s crying spells and panic attacks. To everyone else, Sabi is the calm and collected friend who loves to help everyone but themself. 

Sort Of follows Sabi as they navigate adulthood, family, love, and self-expression in tender and funny ways. It has the slice-of-life vibe of shows like Better Things but with an even more low-key charm. Never in-your-face and always grounded and humane, Sort Of’s twenty-minute episodes make for a delightfully meaningful binge.

In 1994, Danish auteur Lars von Trier came up with a TV series called The Kingdom, an absurd supernatural comedy that takes place in a rundown hospital in Copenhagen. The show was well-received enough to warrant a second season, but just as von Trier was polishing up the third and final installment, the deaths of more than one lead actor pressed pause on the project, till now.

More than 10 years in the making, The Kingdom part III, also called Exodus, is still very much centered on the weird patients and staff members that populate the Riget hospital, as well as the possible evil buried beneath it. The comedy/horror has a robot dishwasher and a giant head. Danes and Swedes are perennially at war with each other. Willem Dafoe and Alexander Skarsgard make odd cameos.

I’m not sure it’s possible to write a coherent synopsis without sounding like I’ve fallen off the rails, but know that it is a unique headscratcher of a show, more interesting as an experience than anything else. Von Trier was also openly inspired by Twin Peaks, in making it, so David Lynch fans in particular will truly enjoy diving into this world.

In Shrinking, Jason Segel plays Jimmy Laird a newly-widowed therapist who’s trying to make amends with his loved ones after isolating himself for so long. It sounds depressing, but Shrinking has the delightful buoyancy of a show like Ted Lasso (which makes sense given that they’re created and directed by the same person) and even Trying, that other Apple TV+ show that masterfully balances seriousness and silliness. Like them, Shrinking is warm and affecting, but it has one undeniable advantage: Harrison Ford. Ford plays Segel’s boss, and if you aren’t onboard yet, Shrinking is definitive proof that Harrison is actually, objectively hilarious.

Life should be difficult for Charlie Spring, an openly gay student in an all-boys high school. And it is, to be sure—he’s mocked, ridiculed, and at times literally shoved to the sidelines. But Hearstopper doesn’t just dwell on misery; rather, it shows us the many colors, the multifaceted wonders, of Charlie’s life. His friends, family, and newfound crush, Nick, help keep him afloat in the murky waters of teenhood.

Like the show itself, Charlie and Nick are insistently sweet and charming, which can feel bold in a world that is driven by so much cynicism and hate. It’s this glowing sensitivity, coupled with the show’s inclusive characters and levelheaded insight, that make Hearstopper a heartwarmingly good watch. 

Every episode of Totally Completely Fine begins with a trigger warning, and rightly so—the show’s entire premise is about mental health, grief, and self-harm. Vivian, the lead (a captivating Thomasin McKenzie), is an orphan who goes on benders and ideates about killing herself. Things escalate when she inherits a cliffside house that doubles as a popular suicide spot and gains a prying (albeit good-natured) psychiatrist as a neighbor. All these elements, and a couple more, force her to confront her repressed trauma once and for all. 

It sounds bleak, and it should be difficult to watch, but the show is a successful dark comedy. It strikes that rare deft balance between tragedy and comedy, highlighting painful truths with cutting humor and delivering jokes tinged with poignant insight. Vivian and her siblings are not entirely likable, but their brokenness and vulnerability make them all the more relatable, the perfect guides to hold your hand through this totally messy, completely enthralling, and finely compassionate show.

As one of the biggest political scandals in recent memory, Watergate has had its fair share of film and TV adaptations. But while plenty fixed their eyes on President Richard Nixon and his men, only a handful focused on the surrounding but equally vital participants. Gaslit seems like an attempt to fix that—it’s a political thriller that looks at the affair’s forgotten players and examines how their seemingly trivial actions formed ripples and grew into the massive wave that brought a presidency to an end. 

One such player, the main one in this limited series, is Martha Mitchell, played to jumpy perfection by Julia Roberts. Previously dismissed as a hysterical gossip, here Martha is finally given her due as a political whistleblower. Sean Penn, Shea Whigman, and Betty Gilpin make up an all-star cast, but along with Roberts, it’s Dan Stevens who really steals the show. He’s a chameleon as junior counsel John Dean, deeply immersed in the character’s confused but well-meaning intentions. 

Another thing that sets Gaslit apart from the others is its self-aware humor. It has a bumbling quality to it—where others replay the infamous break-in with solemnity, Gaslit pokes fun at its absurdity. It’s a series that knows when to be serious and when to dole out the jokes, making it a finely balanced and refreshing political drama.