Best New Shows

Long Story Short follows three siblings throughout their youth and adulthood. It sounds basic enough, except the ten-episode series time-hops every now and then, so we get to drop in on them during certain periods, like the drive back home from a loved one’s funeral, a catastrophic prom night, and even just a good night where everyone gets along. We get glimpses and snippets of their life in non-chronological order, but it all builds up to a resonant and deeply moving whole. Created by Raphael Bob-Waksberg of BoJack Horseman and Tuca & Bertie fame, it’s not surprising how heart-wrenching Long Story Short can get. But as Waksberg leaves behind his animal avatars in this series and focuses instead on human characters, he also crafts something a little less devastating and a little more delightful and closer to home.

Reunion plays out like a typical thriller—it follows a recently released ex-con on the hunt for revenge. In most episodes, his reasons for killing remain a mystery, while his moral compass swings from hero to anti-hero. The beats and storylines are familiar, except for the fact that everything takes place in the realm of the deaf. The leading man, David Brennan (Matthew Gurney), is a deaf man who only uses sign language and the occasional angry gestures to communicate with those around him. The victim of his crime, Ray (Ace Mahbaz), was a stalwart in the deaf community, and so his widowed wife chases David in search of answers, answers David has promised Ray he’ll keep until his death. Reunion is an excellent show, if not in terms of narrative, then in terms of technical feats. Everything from the editing, cinematography, and especially the performances, which feature plenty from the deaf actors, point to how creatively and dedicately rooted the series is in the deaf community.

Out of all the presidents in American history, you’ll be hard pressed to remember James A. Garfield. That’s because the man barely made it past six months before he was assassinated. Perhaps it’s because of this that there aren’t many expectations for this historical limited series, other than period sets and costumes, which is done well. But Death by Lightning goes beyond just documenting the guy’s life, as well as the life of his murderer. Instead, the series delves into the ways both men focused on their legacy, for better or worse, pushing the wheel to bring the changes they have fought for, but also prematurely ending their potential impact on the nation. Death by Lightning is fascinating work, one that turns this forgotten president into an important warning for today’s changemakers.

Inspired by The Pink Marine memoir, Boots expands on Greg Cope White’s story to widen its perspective from one recruit to a whole troop. It makes it a team effort, rather than a solo stint. With the different faces and the protagonist’s sexuality, this show updates the classic military show for this generation, but the change works mostly because of an interest in the whole ensemble, letting its relative newcomers play off each other and show off their strengths. And that’s in spite of the times this show was released in. It’s a shame that Netflix hasn’t greenlit this gem for a second season, considering that these guys prove their mettle in each of their performances. Boots has more ground to stomp on, if only certain companies had the same balls the creators here did.

Dying for Sex feels like two shows in one. Mainly, it follows Molly (Williams), a 40-something diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer, and Nikki (Jenny Slate), her messy but fun-loving best friend who is trying to keep up with Molly’s increasing needs. It gets into the gritty reality of Molly’s emotional and physical pain and explores how her relationship with Nikki both fractures and solidifies as her cancer advances. But the show is also largely about sex. It sheds light on the unique struggle people like Molly have to go through to satisfy sexual needs, which, if anything, only intensifies when one is ill. Instead of being desired, Molly is pitied by her husband, who is too afraid to be intimate with her. So Molly, with nothing to lose, explores sex and sexuality. She touches herself, watches videos, goes on dating apps, and starts a BDSM-esque relationship with her neighbor. The series is raunchy and mines a lot of humor from Molly’s journey, but it’s equally sobering and enlightening. It expertly blends these seemingly opposing scenarios and still comes out feeling solidly made. It will make you go through a roller coaster of emotions, which feels apt for a show about life and death.

From the creators of HBO’s Mare of Easttown comes Task, a gritty crime drama that follows two men —one cop and one criminal —who, despite their differences, are on a similarly rocky journey towards healing. The series is slow to start, and it doesn’t help that the premise is something you’ve seen many times. But the details of Task, from the compelling performances to the excellently choreographed action sequences, make it a thrilling watch. What it lacks in novelty it more than makes up for in the intricacy of its details.

Co-created and starring Jason Momoa, Chief of War is a historical drama depicting the events that led to the unification of Hawaii. The series is rooted in the perspective of the indigenous people, not the eventual colonizers, which is rare in shows like this. Even FX’s Shogun, which tells a similar story set in 17th-century Japan, has a foreigner as the audience’s avatar. Chief of War, on the other hand, is committed to introducing the islanders in the context of their lived experience, which is why the first few episodes are spoken in pure Hawaiian.

The series is loaded with enlightening historical details, yet it never gets bogged down by them. Instead, it strikes a fine balance between intense action, meaningful characterization, and the island’s deep lore. It helps, too, that the series looks glorious—all lush and sunlit. Controversially, much of Chief of War was shot in New Zealand, not Hawaii, but the show still looks better than 90% of the grayish sludge on TV right now.

Created by Peaky Blinders showrunner Steven Knight, A Thousand Blows zooms in on the London Victorian underworld and follows three outsiders trying to uplift themselves in different, often illegal ways. There’s Mary Carr (Erin Rachael Doherty), an ambitious pickpocket who heads an all-female crime syndicate; Sugar Goodson (Stephen Graham), a merchant by day and bare-knuckle boxing champion by night; and London newcomer Hezekiah Moscow (Malachi Kirby), a Jamaican lion tamer who gets roped into Mary and Sugar’s complicated world. The conflicts the show takes onshow’s conflicts are as old as time: wealth inequality, gender divide, and racial discrimination. But Knight gives them a modern refresh so, coupled with razor-sharp dialogue, impressive choreography, gorgeous 1880s details, and stellar performances (particularly from Kirby), the show is invigorating to watch. Peaky Blinders fans who are missing the show will especially appreciate its grit and dark humor.

You’ll have to trust us on this: it’s best to know absolutely nothing about this show before you start watching. There’s a reason all the promos you see on it say near to nothing about it, and it’s a reason you’ll be thankful for at the end of the first episode. What we will say is that Paradise is a refreshing take on political thrillers, and the cast–mainly Sterling K. Brown and Julianne Nicholson–are compelling in their flexibility, confidence, and vulnerability. The show is genre-defying, but what drives it above all else is mystery. Creator Dan Fogelman (This Is Us) might have slightly gone haywire with the flashbacks, but he’s careful not to give anything away too quickly. Instead, we’re left with mysterious puzzle pieces, unpredictably solved by Brown’s character.

It’s easy to feel like you’ll know exactly what you’ll get once you see stills from Guy Ritchie’s MobLand, which stars Tom Hardy, Pierce Brosnan, and Helen Mirren. But while it features cliches of the mafia genre, MobLand is far from boring. Plenty of things are happening all at once, and in lesser hands, these storylines would’ve been a mess. But under Ritchie’s veteran guidance, things come together elegantly. It helps that Hardy is the perfect lead. Sure, he’s tough as the London underground’s main fixer, but he’s also surprisingly polite at times and quick-wittedly humorous at others. In the show’s quieter moments, he even manages to be poignant. The changes in tone are never jarring, instead always arriving at the right time. Even if Ritchie and Hardy have directed and starred in too-many-to-mention mob stories, they still delight and surprise in this enjoyable British series.

Rivals is a heady dose of 1980s maximalism set against the backdrop of a seemingly quiet British countryside. The result is intoxicating: bored wives and polite language conceal carnal desires and immoral methods to reach the top. There’s a lot of sex, but it’s not necessarily sexy. It’s more campy than steamy, even though some characters do forge relationships that turn out to be romantic and true. There’s a lot of shouting and slapstick humor, as well as messages advocating sexual empowerment, which went against the conservatism that was rampant in the ‘80s. It’s reminiscent of Netflix’s Sex Education in that way, even and especially in terms of its bingeability (I finished the first season in one sitting). There’s a lot to like, after all. For every David Tennant and Aidan Turner screaming their heads off, there are more subtle performances from the likes of Nafessa Williams, Bella Maclean, Claire Rushbrook, Danny Dyer, and the ever-lovely Katherine Parkinson.

Romantic comedies used to be a dime a dozen in the 2000s, but now it seems like a dying genre, filled with mere shadows of what once was. That’s why when a good one comes along, you recognize it immediately: a good romcom revitalizes our ideas of love and life. It’s injected with a freshness that makes old feelings seem brand new. You get that in the British film Rye Lane, the Apple TV+ series Platonic series, and the Aussie gem Colin from Accounts, to name some recent examples. You can also find that same spark in Nobody Wants This, a breezy and effortlessly funny romantic comedy about two star-crossed adults trying to make their relationship work despite family disapproval, work demands, and that nagging fear of being hurt once more. The series is helmed by an impressive roster of writers and directors including Greg Mottola (Adventureland, Superbad), Karen Maine (Obvious Child), and Oz Rodriguez (The Last Man on Earth). It’s reminiscent of the indie romcoms of the last decade while shedding some much-needed spotlight on middle-aged dating. My only gripe is that this would’ve worked so much better as a punchy feature film. Instead, it’s dragged to the typical Netflix length of 10 episodes, but at least each runs only for a breezy 30 minutes.

With the gorgeous period costumes, the romance, and the familial dynamics, you would think that Like Water for Chocolate’s latest screen adaptation would be just the same as the film, albeit with a Bridgerton-esque style. To a certain extent, this is true, as the essence of the novel still remains intact and the production is greatly upgraded, however, the added runtime allows this latest adaptation to expand on the novel’s commentary on race and class, and how this played out within the Mexican revolution that was mostly glossed over in the film. Como Agua Para Chocolate captures the novel’s much more rich and layered flavors, in much more fulfilling and scrumptious ways.

It’s a tall order to depict One Hundred Years of Solitude. Considered to be one of the world’s most important novels to read, expectations were high, the magic realism required a hefty budget, and the sprawling seven-generation plotline felt like it couldn’t fit within a feature film, or around 90-120 minutes. It’s because of this that author Gabriel García Márquez held out on selling the rights, and the family followed suit after his death. Luckily, more than half a century later, streaming television garnered enough prestige and profit to finally adapt the classic. Netflix thankfully stuck to the family’s wishes of having it filmed in Spanish, in Colombia, with Colombian actors, but it also expanded on the layered text in ways video can only do so– like fleshing out the story visually and aurally, having an omniscient narrator, and taking advantage of the medium through editing, direction, and excellent performances from the cast. Cien años de soledad doesn’t just work– it makes it so much easier to understand hype and the themes for people completely new to the text.

After the only war the Americans have lost, American post-Vietnam war portrayals tend to lean as patriotic revenge fantasies or romanticized disillusionment, but rarely do they portray the people caught in between. HBO’s The Sympathizer is an adaptation of the Pulitzer winning novel of the same name, and while it’s mainly an American production, Park Chan-wook and Robert Downey Jr.’s collaboration sticks to the Captain’s perspective, as the unnamed mole protagonist writes his confession years after from a jail in Vietnam. Chan-wook excellently mirrors his approach to Viet Thanh Nguyen’s agile storytelling, shifting time periods and languages the same way the Captain shifts perspectives, though Nguyen’s dry humor sometimes wavers when translated to the screen. Still, it’s certainly a well-crafted, ambitious depiction coming from a unique perspective.

I would be okay if Black Doves was just a straightforward spy thriller; Knightley and Whishaw have enough charm, enigma, and kick-ass competence to make it work. But beyond the show’s cool and slick demeanor lies a wealth of other gems. It’s a heartwarming friendship tale for one, and a heartbreaking romance for another. It also manages to be funny at the right times, thanks to Sam’s bumbling accomplices, while evoking Christmas cheer. It sounds like a random mishmash of things, but Black Doves effortlessly blends its many tones and genres. Knightley and Whishaw ground the show’s ambition with their affecting performance as two cold-blooded killers who depend on each other’s trust and friendship. It also helps that there’s a depth to the deaths in Black Doves. There’s a nuance here that’s missing in most crime and action thrillers. Bodies are still dispensable, but you know why and how they’ve reached that point. If you want something smart and gripping that isn’t Die Hard to put on this holiday season, this could be it.

It’s hard not to be swept away by the epicness of Masters of the Air. Produced by Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks, with the first four episodes directed by Cary Joji Fukunaga (No Time to Die, True Detective), it’s made sure to flex its massive $250-million budget. Everything is accounted for here, from the sweeping and historically accurate production design to the stacked cast of rising male stars (Oscar nominees Austin Butler and Barry Keoghan easily steal the show). Even the rousing score and sound design, while bordering on melodrama at times, build up tension and add a premium air to it. It’s a visual and sonic feast bolstered by upstanding performances and an endearing show of brotherhood. Whenever it risks being propagandistic or misguidedly patriotic, it’s the believable relationship between the boys and their grave understanding of war that ground it and give it heart. And of course, the air combats are edge-of-your-seat thrilling. Like Band of Brothers and The Pacific before it, it’s a visceral entry in the genre of World War II must-sees.

If you’re expecting the sleek, playful, and totally over-the-top spy shenanigans of 2005’s Mr. & Mrs. Smith, you’re not going to find it in this 2024 version, not that it’s a bad thing. In fact, this show stands on its own, reinventing the spy couple into a professional partnership rather than an immediate spark that leads to marriage. This decision makes the show feel like the film’s opposite– as the longer runtime and naturalistic aura enables more focus on the incomparable Donald Glover and Maya Erskine rather than the explosions– but it makes the danger feel more unpredictable and not just action set pieces. Mr. & Mrs. Smith may not be the star-powered, guns-blazing action comedy we’re familiar with, but it’s certainly a more thoughtful, fresh take that improves on the concept.

During adolescence, teenagers get to learn and discover themselves and the world, but for most people, this means going through puberty, maybe taking up a sport or hobby, and not the occult vs alien shenanigans of DAN DA DAN. The science fiction-fantasy mix is unhinged and chaotic, throwing Momo and Ken directly into the worlds they didn’t believe in, and with each crazy encounter, they gain insane powers that are rendered into (literally) out-of-this-world, kaleidoscopic animation. But it’s their comedic dynamic that makes the show work, as each absurd situation pushes them to share what makes them vulnerable and challenge each other on their beliefs. DAN DA DAN is spectacularly unpredictable, and is a standout from 2024’s anime fall lineup.

Watching The Day of the Jackal feels like watching a film; it’s taut, fast-paced, and flashy, featuring incredible dual performances by Redmayne and Lynch. Like many thrillers before it, The Day of the Jackal centers on a cat-and-mouse chase between an official and a transgressor, but the series smartly blurs the line between good and evil. Redmayne’s Jackal is by all accounts the bad guy—he’s a hitman after all—but we’re shown his humane side and the lives he works hard to protect. Meanwhile, Lynch’s Bianca is a government agent, but her hands are dirtied with just as much (if not more) blood than the Jackal. Who’s really at fault here? Part of the fun in watching this is figuring that out, but it’s also just as enjoyable to see what disguise the Jackal whips out, and what moral quandary Bianca finds herself deep in, next.

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.

Imagine if the show Girls was Marvel-ized (or if you like, Derry Girls blended with Encanto): that’s kind of what this series is, but actually good.

It has all the trappings of a quarter-life-crisis sitcom—broke 25-year-olds with big dreams and little prospects living under one roof—while also being set in a world where everyday humans develop a superpower by the age of 18. The British series follows Jen, a late bloomer who has yet to find her power. Having had enough of sucky jobs and boyfriends, she sets out to discover her power in the hopes of finally knowing more about herself. It’s a bizarre premise with an authentic, endearing core that’s certainly worth checking out.

Masculinity can look like different things, and Big Boys reminds us of that in hilarious and poignant ways. The British series follows best friends Jack and Danny, university students who seem happy enough on the outside but who are dealing with their own issues. Jack still mourns the sudden loss of his dad while struggling to start his journey as a freshly-out gay man. Danny, an expert in social situations, happily helps him even though he’s secretly depressed himself. They’re joined by Corrine and Yemi, characters who blossom slowly but surely in the next seasons. Their friends and family give them a boost, but it’s Jack and Danny’s rare friendship that holds the show down and gives it a solid emotional core. In an era when “No Homo” jokes are still rampant, Jack and Danny are proof that men can explore their emotions and forge deep friendships without breaking under the pressure of gender norms. And men being in touch with their feelings doesn’t always have to be a joke. It can be funny, sure, but also real and true, like this show.

Even without doing the important and long overdue work of uplifting Native American voices, Dark Winds manages to be an intriguing mystery, layered with complex performances and bolstered by the majestic expanse of the American Southwest (in the ‘70s no less!). Finally released from the shackles of supporting roles, Zahn McClarnon shines here; he’s in top form as the gritty but softhearted police officer who protects his tribe from encroaching federal forces. The mysteries that propel the show are compelling too; they have the same beats as any you’d expect from a crime thriller, but they’re seeped deep into Native American mysticism, making them intriguing and wholly unique. 

Part police-procedural and part supernatural thriller, The Devil’s Hour is the perfect show to binge if you love solving complicated puzzles and don’t mind being spooked by the occasional jump scare. It’s also co-produced by Steven Moffat, who was the brain behind equally mind-bending thrillers Sherlock (BBC) and Doctor Who.

The six-parter follows social worker Lucy Chambers as she looks after potential victims, a behaviorally challenged son, and a schizophrenic mother—and this is on top of her personal problems, which include bloody hallucinations and waking up every day at exactly 3:33 am, or what she dubs the devil’s hour. There are a lot of moving parts in The Devil’s Hour, but aside from the intricate world-building, it’s the powerful performances from Jessica Raine and Peter Capaldi that truly anchor this ambitious show.

The initial charm of Hacks is in watching sparks fly between its sharp-tongued leads. Neither the elderly Deborah nor the young Ava holds back the digs, both of them cutting to the core of their insecurities. Part of what makes their tension so watchable is that they’re stand-ins for different generations. Deborah represents the all-hustle culture of the boomers, while Ava represents burned-out millennials. Lock them in a scene together and you get endless (and endlessly funny) observations about the modern world.

Eventually, however, their relationship deepens into something more meaningful than that. As Deb and Ava bond over their shared hopes and flaws, the show transforms into a clever and tender two-hander about their prickly but profound relationship. They’re two sides of the same coin, and even though no one can bring them down like the other can, the opposite is also true: no one else can lift them and push them to new heights like the other can.

With teen dramas crowding not just Netflix but all of TV, it’s easy to think that the Jordanian series AlRawabi School for Girls won’t be any different. But while it may share a lot of similarities with other coming-of-age stories, it stands out for its willingness to explore dark themes and cultural specificities without a pandering tone. It’s smart, mature, and complex enough to give us a feminist lead who weaponizes misogyny against other girls, for instance, or a fierce bully who eventually earns our sympathy. It’s hard to imagine the treatment being this sensitive, nuanced, and wholly engaging without the all-female cast and crew that AlRawabi thankfully has.

The concept of The New Years is simple: It’s the multi-year glimpses of a relationship like One Day, except on the aforementioned holiday. But because it occurs at that time of the year, and because it’s the couple’s birthdays, there’s a certain hope that justifies their quickly-formed connection. Rather than the whirlwind formative experience of similar college-set shows, Ana and Óscar are in their thirties and are now therefore called to this relationship in spite of all the disappointments their past has given them. The New Years might be a tad familiar because of the premise, but showrunners Sara Cano, Paula Fabra, and Rodrigo Sorogoyen make the most of this moment with a moving exploration of their jaded characters.

When a girls soccer team is left stranded in the wilderness, things quickly descend from worrisome to outright, delightful, and sometimes unbearably weird. It’s a classic tale of survival injected with fresh mystery and drama, and as you watch these girls navigate humanity in all its extremes—from the primal urge to live to the existential need to bond—you’re left feeling both wildly entertained and deeply disturbed all at once. 

Though Yellowjackets has drawn comparisons to beloved stories like Lost and Lord of the Flies, its unique pulse on the female experience is arguably its own thing: a sure and instant classic in the making. 

Trying is a realistic but charming take on couples venturing to build a life and stable future for themselves. Heavy themes are tackled here, like infertility, infidelity, and parenthood, but the immensely likable couple that is Nikki and Jase guide us through the murky ups and downs of them all. Their heart and humor aren’t just comforting to watch, they’re also inspiring in a TV age obsessed with heavy dramatics. Like Ted Lasso, Abbott Elementary, and other well-meaning shows like it, Trying is a bit of lighthearted fare that we’d do well to indulge in every now and then.

After struggling to recapture the magic of the first few Star Trek series for the better part of two decades, the franchise has finally returned to its original formula of self-contained space adventures, progressive politics, and an unabashedly hopeful tone—all to magnificent results. Strange New Worlds is classic Trek in every sense: from its truly out-there, ’60s-style sci-fi stories; to its warm sense of humor; to its welcome focus on sentiment and emotion even amid large battles and dangerous situations. The series accomplishes all of this while keeping every member of its crew unique and charismatic, crafting powerful character moments for them even in the thick of things—elevated by uniformly brilliant performances from its cast, led by a commanding Anson Mount. It’s Star Trek for old and new fans alike, and a great reminder of the distinct strengths of episodic TV.