100 Best TV Shows of 2023 So Far

Big, wealthy corporations (and families) taking advantage of the working class is the catalyst of many K-drama revenge plots. This one sees Jang Ho-woo devise a plan to infiltrate the accounting firm whose actions led to his adoptive father committing suicide. Surprisingly, Ho-woo is hired straight after high school, catching the attention of the VP’s son, Han Seung-jo. Although most accounting terms go in one ear and out the other, the tension, stakes, and relentless climb to the top are always crystal clear. As the scope of the corporation unfolds, rooting for Ho-woo’s triumph is a solid hook, even if it’s a given.

In a world acclimated to the technological advancements and integration of AI, Sudo Hikaru offers illegal medical procedures in the hopes of finding the people behind his mother’s stolen data. The Gene of AI takes an interestingly neutral tone towards the integration of humanoids among the population (akin to our current normal with social media and smartphones). Even as the question of ethics and legality weaves through everyday conversations, the idea of AI being inherently bad is never the conclusion. So far, the narrative follows a procedural format that feeds each new case/scenario back into Hikaru’s search. 

With a small primary cast and a heavy hand on CGI (which feels deliberate given how the show discusses the human-technology relationship), the show has the potential to deliver a memorable narrative in the transhumanism genre.

Crass, violent, and deeply unserious, this adult animated series gets around its rough edges by acknowledging its title character’s reputation. Often seen only in the context of her twisted romance with a much more recognizable villain, Harley Quinn tends to be viewed as merely victim or vixen. But this show has her break free and claim her own story, taking shots not just at her emotionally abusive ex, the Joker, but at the entire DC Comics brand and at any other moving target it can find. The result is a series that has the tendency to feel scattershot, but whose anarchic energy still leads to the catharsis of untethering oneself from an unhealthy addiction and learning to be rebuild.

And though the show’s writing and animation can get too stiff or stilted (especially in later seasons), much of it still works thanks to its bonkers sense of humor, as well as an excellent voice cast. Kaley Cuoco is exactly as brash and expressive as Harley needs to be, and supporting turns from an extensive range of actors (including Lake Bell, whose Poison Ivy eventually becomes Harley’s most important relationship) ensure that every corner of this world has something hilarious to offer.

The Killing Vote takes the “vote to kill” storyline and pairs an anonymous vigilante with an ambitious yet apathetic officer, creating an intriguing setup that questions how everyday inequalities extend to the justice system. The first episode is quite disturbing as it tackles child pornography, but with this pilot, the series is able to cement an expectation it fulfills in succeeding episodes: this is a severe show that tackles severe cases and severe criminals. Coupled with immersive performances across the board (the star-studded cast includes K-drama staples Park Hae-jin, Park Sung-woong, and Lim Ji-yeon), The Killing Vote is already off to a high-intensity start. If it keeps this up, it very well could be one of 2023’s best.

In the era of behind-the-athlete documentaries, the timing of a series like My Lovely Boxer is perfect. The series follows a young boxing prodigy, Lee Kwon-Sook (Kim So-Hye), who suddenly disappears at the height of her career to escape the toxicity of her home life and avoid becoming commodified as a boxer. In its first two episodes, it’s clear that this isn’t about the sport itself. Rather, as Kwon-Sook and sports agent Kim Tae-Young (Lee Sang-yub) cross paths, the exploitative practices in the sports industry are quickly exposed, showing the disconnect between sports as a profession – both a passion and a way to make ends meet – and sports as entertainment at any cost. The show wastes no time glamourizing an athlete’s life but instead illuminates every dark corner waiting to make a quick buck. And like the tell-all documentaries, the horrors behind the scenes are upsetting, but keep you watching. 

Black Snow has the sleek style of a modern murder mystery, but its concern with Australia’s colonial past that sets this show apart. As a neo-noir series centered on a murder, the show has all the classic elements: the hardboiled detective, the suspicious townsfolk, and the murder. As the murder is set in 1994, nostalgic summer-tinged high school scenes make it easy to root for justice for the show’s young victim.

But the series stands out as it’s always mindful of Isabel Baker, always concerned with her and her dynamics with her friends, family, and her South Sea Islander (ASSI) community. Supported by the strong performance of newcomer Talijah Blackman-Corowa, and even consulting the ASSI community personally in the show’s development and production, Black Snow is excellent not just as a murder mystery but also as a depiction of a community that’s rarely portrayed on screen.

A lot of things are at play in The Other Black Girl, a 10-part series adapted from the novel of the same name. The first half is a workplace horror that cleverly sets Nella’s career ambitions against the racial microaggressions she endures daily, while the second half is more of a mystery, with Nella digging deeper into Hazel’s sketchy past. At the same time, The Other Black Girl is also a comedy, a social thriller, and a revealing satire about the state of the publishing industry and companies at large. It doesn’t always succeed in balancing all the things it tries to be, but when it does, it soars; it becomes an exciting and meaningful piece of work you can’t stop watching. And even when it falters (it’s not as good at mystery as it is at commentary), The Other Black Girl remains largely enjoyable—addicting, even, since each episode runs for a breezy 30 minutes. Anchored by an extremely likable performance by Daniel and a chilling one from Murray, The Other Black Girl is easily one of the best multi-genre shows to come out in a while. 

At first glance, Rough Diamonds seems to be a standard Netflix thriller with debts, deaths, and dirty deals. However, this Flemish-Yiddish series happens to also be a compelling family drama, centered around Antwerp’s Haredi Jewish diamond community. The series starts the season strong with the death that puts the family into chaos. It continues the series’ suspense with the return of prodigal son Noah, who, like Godfather’s Michael Corleone, initially disagrees with the family’s orthodox lifestyle, but can’t help but be drawn back to the family business. As the family scrambles to figure out their dead brother’s debt, they squabble with each other in a dynamic reminiscent of Succession, with an added organized crime twist. The resulting mix creates an intriguing thriller series that also happens to be a nuanced portrayal of a rarely portrayed community.

If you have the patience to get through its rocky first season, Star Trek: Lower Decks proves itself to be an adult animated series that’s deeply committed to getting significantly better with every season. What started as a sort of budget Rick and Morty riff with grating humor and stiff animation has turned into an effortlessly witty sci-fi show with plenty of life in the way it moves. It’s still mostly concerned with having silly little adventures at the end of the day, but what’s striking is how complete its adventures and sci-fi ideas are in the span of its 20- to 30-minute episodes.

And as it’s found its footing, Lower Decks has also gained the confidence to begin telling more overarching stories by its fourth season, with an even stronger focus on character. These kinds of animated comedies could easily avoid any profound development for its protagonists—and this show doesn’t exactly have the most deeply-written crew members in Trek history—but there’s real heart in how the lower decks crew reflect on the modesty of their stations and how they view themselves within a larger institution. If it doesn’t seem too groundbreaking, that’s part of the appeal too; smaller stories still deserve to be told.

Structured more like a network procedural than a gritty streaming miniseries, the TV adaptation of The Lincoln Lawyer feels easy, even nostalgic, to watch. The formula is simple: in every episode, Mickey handles a new case (most of them wrongful convictions against people on the fringe), all while dealing with a larger, more complicated case and his inner demons. There to help is his trusty driver Izzy (Jazz Raycole), who gets him everywhere in his Lincoln Town Car, and his two ex-wives, with whom he shares a surprisingly healthy relationship. All these elements come together to make an entertaining legal drama. It’s not the most compelling thing out there, but it’s consistently enjoyable and endlessly likable.