45 Lighthearted TV Shows to Watch Right Now

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.

It’s always fun to see teachers in non-teacher mode, where they’re free to swear, complain, and engage in hookups (hey, this is FX!). But there’s something effortlessly absorbing and extra likable about English Teacher. It doesn’t spend too much time setting up a distinct world or fleshing out characters with complicated backstories. Instead, it’s happy to balance irreverent humor with fresh takes on culture wars and current events. The dynamic between the woke school Evan works in versus the conservative state in which it’s located provides endless prompts for all sorts of ridiculous but relatable shenanigans. Most of the insight it provides relates to queer and gender politics, the bumpy nuances of which Alvarez expertly explores. It’s equal parts smart and fun, a likely mainstay in TVs this fall.

With its slice-of-life approach, A Sign of Affection immediately tugs at the heartstrings with its sweet romance between a deaf university student and a multilingual traveller from manga duo Suu Morishita. The anime adaptation sees the world in Yuki’s eyes, with delicately lined shapes and pink-tinted watercolor paired with Sumire Morohoshi’s sweet voice, and it’s lovely to see the unjaded, kind way she interprets the world. The series does have some of the familiar romance tropes, like love triangles, wingman friends, and the glowy, bokeh lighting, but it’s sort of the point in this charming show. A Sign of Affection likens the careful, hesitant way of falling in love with the way Yuki interacts with the world, or rather, the reactions abled people have to her disability.

It’s always nice to be able to identify with a group of people on television, but it’s especially entertaining when they’re a hilarious bunch. That’s what the Jessops are, at once relatable and ridiculous, mundane and misfortune-prone. Anything that can go wrong will go wrong, and somehow their troubles worsen anytime they try to fix them or keep a straight face. It sounds strange, but in a TV landscape of bleak comedies and cynical dramas, it’s refreshing and validating to watch the average middle-class family struggle with the same problems we’re having, whether that’s figuring out a good career or trying to reignite the spark of a marriage. That we see all this unfold through the handheld lens of Sam, the youngest of the family, adds a layer of intimacy and charm that makes Here We Go an imminently comforting watch.

When a show is focused on a kid and their sport, chances are, the main character holds a passion for the sport itself. They saw it, they thought it was cool, and they tried it out. Blue Box, however, takes an unconventionally depicted, but no less honest, motivation– the energizing power of having a crush. The way Taiki goes about it feels reminiscent of that first childhood crush, with the excitement, the determination, and the pure mortification each time he perceives to have jumped the gun, but it’s all made endearing with the characterization, writing, and the beautiful render, and it’s easily driven by the familiar device of having to share the same residence. Blue Box is just so darn cute.