100 Best TV Shows of 2023 So Far

This new six-part comedy series is as razor-sharp as a vampire’s fangs, skewering everything from the horror genre’s historically iffy treatment of people of color, lazy media stereotypes of Muslims, and real-life fixtures of Islamic communities. It never feels bogged down by the weight of the issues behind it, though, always staying true to the lightness of its silly — but ingenious — concept.

The show follows the goofy Abdulla (Arian Nik), a British-Pakistani trainee doctor and horror nerd who has enough on his plate — what with an unavailable crush and the social pressures of being a not-so-perfect Muslim — without also having to contend with being turned by vampire-dominatrix Kathy (played with gusto by Jaime Winstone). Writer Kaamil Shah manages to pack an impressive amount of cutting humor into each 20-ish-minute episode, whether through Kathy railing against the appropriation of vampire culture during Halloween (presented less as an anti-woke joke and more as a wry analogy to media misrepresentation of real minorities) or a wink to Muslims about the epidemic of hypocritical haram police in our communities. This balance between universal humor and inside jokes that speak directly to — rather than over the heads of — British Muslims makes Count Abdulla a very welcome addition to TV comedy in general, as well as a refreshing widening of the horror genre.

Set in the Monsterverse—the same shared universe that King Kong, Godzilla, and their respective films inhabit—Skull Island follows a group of shipwrecked travelers who find themselves stranded on the mysterious titular island, which they soon find out is home to a variety of prehistoric creatures, including the mighty Kong.

Skull Island, the series, delivers wholesome relationships and touching character growth in the face of imminent danger, while also offering exciting action scenes, eye-popping visuals, and amusing jokes that are well-served by voice acting. It’s an easy, fun watch that is sure to appeal to fans of the Monsterverse, as well as fans of animated adventure series. 

Boots Riley established himself as a wildly creative voice with 2018’s zany anti-capitalist satire Sorry To Bother You, and with his second project, he digs his heels even deeper into that singular approach. I’m A Virgo’s world feels deeply uncanny yet intimately familiar, what with its absurdly militarised authority figures, dog-whistling media, and greed-driven economy. It’s set in Oakland, where 13-foot Black teenager Cootie (Jharrel Jerome) lives in secrecy with his normal-sized family. Frustrated, Cootie decides to venture into the outside world, but he’s soon exploited, projected onto, and demonized. However, it’s also not long before he makes his first friends, falls in love, and unlearns everything he thought he knew about the world.

The biggest revelation is that Cootie’s favorite superhero, an Iron Man-esque billionaire called The Hero (Walton Goggins), isn’t actually doing good by enforcing the law to the letter. Though it takes many weird and wonderful detours, it’s this aspect of Cootie’s consciousness-widening that is the show’s ultimate destination. These radical politics give it a sharp overarching focus, meaning its mind-bending eccentricity never feels too indulgent. It all makes for a refreshingly original, gloriously weird watch that you’re guaranteed not to have seen the likes of elsewhere.

Centered around a phone with the power to make people disappear, Delete utilizes an intriguing supernatural element to create a steady mystery that thrives on moral dilemmas. With shifting perspectives and a non-linear narrative, it excels at building context and character motivation. What starts as an exposed affair becomes an exploration of the depths of human desires. The series has a strong start, setting a pace that hooks with melodrama and keeps eyes glued with its twists. Whether it’s distrust in relationships or dependency on technology, there isn’t a dull moment as the phones pass from hand to hand, and the stakes are risen by questionable intentions.

The show’s premise is plain, but it’s also endlessly, edge-of-your-seat gripping. It’s steady and unhurried but never boring, and each episode, which represents an hour on the seven-hour flight, gives you a sliver of hope for the passengers, especially since they have pro-negotiator Sam Nelson (Idris Elba) on their side. Or do they? The show has fun playing with Sam as the anti-hero, but his heart is too big and golden to achieve that complexity. It also doesn’t bother to paint the hijackers as anything other than terrorists (at least not in the first few episodes screened for review). Instead, the show narrowly chases that mid-flight suspense, and it works. It successfully builds up to it with small but revealing moments. 

At the back of all the hubbub, there is also a running joke about what happens when you get stuck with the worst people you know. The passengers are characters you may be familiar with—the family with loud babies, the nosy seatmate forcing a chat, the lowkey racist eyeing everyone who doesn’t look like him—and it gets doubly entertaining to see them collaborate when they otherwise won’t.

Dear Child may be tackling difficult themes, including sexual violence and domestic abuse, but it’s not hard to watch at all. As a mystery, it’s well-told and gripping, with clues and cliffhangers appearing at just the right moment, and as a drama it’s expertly paced and brilliantly acted, with child actress Naila Schuberth, who plays Hannah, and Kim Riedle, who plays Jasmin, easily owning their scenes. Unlike other stories that decide to take on these delicate themes, it’s not gratuitous or exploitative either. Instead, it knows when to hold back and when to unleash the horrific details of its crimes. The sympathy it shows the victims is present but restrained, at least until the last few moments of the series. By then, the series, with full force, takes the victim narrative and excellently turns it against its head. 

With mass media’s misrepresentation of the Roma people, it was high time there was a show dedicated to accurate portrayal. Infamy is that show. As British-raised Gita moves back with her extended Romani family in Poland, we get introduced to Romani culture– their rules, customs, and art. This Polish Netflix series might even be the first time you’ll hear about Romanipen, the rules and familial principles that allowed them to survive. However, with Gita’s Western background, the show also depicts her immigrant experience, culture clash, and the discrimination of her people by the dominant Polish people. Mixed with hip-hop tracks from the UK, Poland, and the series’ original creations, Infamy takes a nuanced approach to Gita’s struggle and artistry.

For those familiar with the original book series, you’ll already know what kind of show to expect. The Apple+ cartoon is centered on the two titular amphibians going through universal adventures that makes or breaks your day. From finding the willpower to resist eating delicious cookies, to hoping a friend would contact you when you’re lonely, each episode keeps a gentle sort of humor, poking lighthearted fun at the differences between the emotional Toad and more sensible Frog. With each episode’s twenty minute runtime, and two adventures per episode, Frog and Toad is a sweet, nostalgic series that’s easy to breeze through for millennial parents and their kids.

With years of films depicting Italian crime syndicates, most focus on their leaders – the Dons, the Capos, and the Consiglieres. Most of them focus on the mafia’s men. However, in this series, it’s the women who are the stars of the show. Based on the novel of the same name, The Good Mothers is a compelling crime drama, focused on the women, not the men, of the ‘Ndrangheta clan. It’s from their perspective we see the mafia. The masterful way the series unfolds makes it clear that their lives are constrained, that this dated way of life still prioritizes the family over their individual women. It makes it all the more satisfying when they’re given the opportunity to retaliate, and when they choose to take that opportunity. And it’s so much better knowing that this was real.

“World-building” doesn’t quite capture what Scavengers Reign does — the sheer imagination on display in just the first three episodes of this 12-part adult animation sci-fi could fill multiple universes. From the get-go, we’re immersed in a truly strange new world, one in which panda-like creatures with telepathic abilities control humans, fungi merge with motherboards, and plant-animal hybrids crackle with electricity. All this trippiness is rendered in a 2D animation style that appropriately draws on the fantastical art of Moebius (who in turn influenced Studio Ghibli). 

Flashbacks and hallucinations gradually unravel the mystery of just how the crew of the Demeter and their robot assistant Levi (Alia Shawkat) ended up here — a grounding plot thread that keeps things from totally spinning out into mind-bendingly surreal territory. Not just an exercise in stretching creativity in bold new directions, then, but a gripping mystery laying bare the terrifying limitlessness of the cosmos.