Stath Lets Flats is so incredibly quotable that watching just its first crop of episodes will likely give you a whole new vocabulary. Even after spending three full seasons with the titular Greek Cypriot real estate agent (played, as no one else could, by series creator Jamie Demetriou) and his sister Sophie (Natasia Demetriou), it still feels like the show is inventing new ways to nonsensically butcher the English language. Maintaining total unpredictability and never letting the gags get stale is no easy feat, but Stath Lets Flats never even gets close to that, remaining utterly original — and, more importantly, hilarious — from its slapstick-heavy opener all the way through the emotional rollercoaster that is the show’s three-season-strong run. Though its existence feels criminally short, the blessing of this being unlike any other sitcom (old and new) means it has infinite rewatch potential — putting it up there with the very best of TV comedy, period. Sold!

With plenty of classics being remade, many have cried about Hollywood playing it safe, not matching up to the source material, and at worst, being unoriginal. After 40 years, the groundbreaking 1980 Shogun miniseries now has a new adaptation, but unlike its fellow remakes, this new series goes beyond expectations to deliver a mesmerizing, epic political drama that we’ve been hoping for. The 2024 remake still maintains plenty of the jawdropping firsts that shocked America then, but it also decentralized its perspective, expanding past the English outsider Blackthorne, and prioritizing the perspective of its Japanese characters, particularly Lord Yoshii Toranaga and Lady Toda Mariko. Hulu’s Shogun may be another remake, but their takes provides something new, with its spectacular production and its epic storytelling.

At first glance, Monster doesn’t seem like the typical anime of the 2000s. With its muted colors, realistic action, and Eastern European setting, it seemed like a more subdued series compared to other thrillers. But because it feels so realistic, Monster is one of the most thrilling psychological series that happens to tackle the value of a human life, as the compassionate doctor Kenzo Tenma grapples with the weight of having saved a boy who grows up into a manipulative psychopath. Mangaka Naoki Urasawa and showrunner Masayuki Kojima directly challenges their respective philosophies through excellently paced investigations, well-developed characters, and the thorough examination of the different ways humanity has failed each other, and it’s downright beautiful to see how this anime adapts Urasawa’s complex, sophisticated story so faithfully.

In Lumon, a company that resembles the increasingly intrusive oligarchs of Big Tech, Mark (Adam Scott) and his colleagues undergo a procedure that allows them to separate their work memories from their non-work memories. It sounds like a dream: the perfect work-life balance. But things get complicated when one colleague mysteriously leaves and is replaced by confused new hire, Helly (Britt Lower). Mark and Helly dig into shocking truths about what they really do, and for whom.

Just like the endless halls of Lumon, Severance is filled with twists and turns, many of which are impossible to see coming. Slow, smart, and sneaked with a dystopian eerieness that doesn’t feel all that far off, Severance is sure to leave you wary of corporate slavishness, if you aren’t already. 

On-screen, we’ve seen downtrodden Cinderella-esque leads, we’ve seen humans transform into animals, and we’ve seen whole families cursed, but Fruits Basket takes all these plot devices and transforms them into something completely different. As Tohru Honda gets to learn about the mysterious Sohma family, and she and friends gets into fun and wacky hijinks with the curse, the series takes the legend of the Chinese zodiac as a unique and effortless means to discuss systemic, generational abuse and resulting trauma that can occur within a family. The classic shoujo manga was first adapted into anime in 2001, but we’re recommending the later 2019 adaptation, which goes more in depth and depicts the complete story.

The best thing about The Rehearsal—Nathan Fielder’s elaborate Russian doll of social experiments and self-examination—is how seamlessly it goes from prank comedy to surrealist horror. The show’s concept of staging situations where real people can practice making an important decision (complete with actors playing all the background characters) pays off in spades. Fielder’s insistence on over-preparation collides beautifully with the unpredictability of human behavior, leading to some of the funniest and weirdest interactions to grace TV.

But the greatest trick that The Rehearsal has up its sleeve is Fielder, playing a version of himself using this show to understand how to live a meaningful life. As he stretches these rehearsals beyond their limit (at certain points, recreating his own rehearsals with someone playing himself), his character’s persona also begins to crack. Suddenly the series isn’t just a comedy, but a poignant reflection on empathy and forgiveness, and a psychological mind-bender about an egomaniac who refuses to give up control of reality itself. There’s nothing else like it on television.

Sci-fi is already a pretty wild genre. Anything can happen in this fantasy world, so it takes a special kind of skill to make a new entry seem original once more. But Pantheon throughout its eight-episode run manages to be just that thanks to its resonant storytelling, inventive editing, and brilliant, heartfelt premise. 

The scope of the story is as wide as it is wild: it’s about the unregulated rise of “uploaded intelligence,” after all, where human minds are fully uploaded and digitized for corporate use. Global tech companies are in an arms race to transform this discovery into weaponry, as they are wont to do, without giving mind to the human and environmental costs. Challenging them is the unlikely duo of Maddy and Caspian (Katie Chang and Paul Dano, respectively) who, as direct victims of this greed, have more than a few grievances to express. 

It’s exciting to see how far the dystopia of Pantheon goes, but anytime it flies too high, it’s always grounded by the fleshed-out humanity of Maddy and Caspian. The series runs on their self-discovery and existential crises as much as it does on extraordinary circumstances. Expect to shed a tear or two while watching this series. 

Starting off the series with slicing off fingers, Blue Eye Samurai is a thrilling action series that brings back samurai sword wielding in such a gorgeous fashion. Reminiscent of the classics, the animated series is centered on its titular warrior, whose blue eyes set them apart from society. She dedicates herself to a lifelong revenge journey, with gruesome sword fights, all to kill the four white men who could have been her father. And while she takes some side quests to her journey, missions that make her question the path she took, these seemingly straightforward fights slowly uncover the woman she became, and the pain inflicted upon those who can’t help but be different. It’s an action-packed spectacle, but it’s also an unflinching examination of trauma, and possibly one of the best animated releases from Netflix this year.

A concept this strange deserves a treatment that’s equally as odd, and Review nails the bizarre tone of humor shared by its fellow Comedy Central series Nathan for You: both shows are knowingly dumb at heart but are also completely shameless about making their stars look like fools. Forrest MacNeil (played with utmost dedication by Andy Daly) would have seemed like a respectable man if he wasn’t so inexplicably drawn to obeying his audience’s wishes, for no clear reason whatsoever. Consumed by this show that allows him to only ever simulate real experiences, he becomes a pathetic—almost eerily so—portrait of a person’s need to belong.

But what helps elevate Review beyond being an episodic series of sketches is the fact that there actually is some continuity between episodes. This means that some of the more drastic requests that Forrest indulges carry emotional consequences. Perhaps most important is his decision to accept the assignment of divorcing his wife, which creates ripples throughout the rest of the series and turns Forrest into an even more desperate man, trapped in this purgatory of his own making. But also, it’s all just very, very funny.

There’s a lot more to this show than what it packages itself as, which is a cute little show shot in the ‘90s/2000s about capable toddlers. We can assume the kids are safe and have adults offscreen with them, but anxious ol’ me has too many questions (e.g. How many more guardians are there besides cameramen? This isn’t a nature docu, so do the cameramen step in a lot?) The flash forwards in later episodes are a warm and welcome wrinkle to the show that deepens a distant nostalgia into an instant connection with these people. This show maximizes its short runtime by packing cuteness, tension, and fascination, and even finding a way to hit you in the feels.