2020 was an awful year for so many reasons, but surprisingly, one medium that's had a great 12 months was TV. It was a year where people were relying on their televisions for solace and comfort. Maybe that came in the form of a murder-mystery documentary about big cats, or twelve hours of Jude Law being tortured in real time. Maybe your lockdown was made brighter by Schitt's Creek and its surprise Emmy-sweep. Maybe you cursed the way Supernatural ended, or obsessed over Normal People, or became one of those weird people who thinks that Twin Peaks: The Return is a movie. Maybe you thought that Better Call Saul overtook Breaking Bad in terms of quality and are confused why more people aren't watching it. Maybe you squeed any time Baby Yoda did literally anything. Maybe you wondered when chess became so cool and seriously considered taking it up after The Queen's Gambit. Maybe you review bombed season two of The Boys because you've got no patience. And maybe you just held on for 2021 when Disney+ would ensure nearly weekly Marvel content. The point is, TV proved to be a serious salve this year, providing not just entertainment but a means of connection for so many people. So much so that, in the end, my annual top 10 had to be doubled. I watched so much television this year, new and old, and it was an invaluable escape throughout the hell that was 2020. The following are the twenty(ish) new shows that gave me joy and peace this year. Please enjoy
I didn't see everything, though, so here's a list of shows that I wanted to catch in 2020 but couldn't:
The Last Dance
Little Fires Everywhere
I May Destroy You
Ted Lasso
I'll Be Gone in the Dark
Quiz
Mrs America
I Hate Suzie
Ozark
Bridgerton
Kingdom
And then there's Pen15 and Schitt's Creek, two shows that I know would crack the list for sure... if I'd seen the latest seasons. I know they're ace and intend to get up to date at some point, but for now, here are 20 shows I've loved in 2020
20. The Umbrella Academy
After a disappointing first outing, Netflix's super-sibling-saga came back with a vengeance in its second year. It was a soft-reboot of sorts that saw the Hargreeves family flung across seven different periods in the early 60s before converging days before JFK's assassination. Yes, really. It was addictively wild and genuinely fun, the kind of high-concept, gloriously off-kilter hijinks that the first season just missed out on delivering. The Umbrella Academy's second season felt pacey and urgent, setting its end in sight from episode one and urging viewers to just enjoy the ride. What makes it work so well is the cast. The ensemble isn't just great here, they're paramount to making the often aggressively bizarre plot beats flow seamlessly. Particular shoutouts to Kate Walsh as the venomous Handler, Elliot Page as the infinitely sympathetic Vanya and Aidan Gallagher's very stressed out Number Five. It was breathless, chaotic television that finally found its footing, and if it can deliver on its typically batshit cliffhanger ending, then we're in for another timeline-disrupting rollercoaster of television
19. Three Busy Debras/ Aunty Donna's Big Ol' House of Fun
That's right folks, at number 19, we've got a tie. Both of these shows are great for the same reason and deliver largely the same ultra-surreal laughs, so it makes sense to put them in the same slot. Three Busy Debras is the kind of intensely weird, easily bingeable comedy that Adult Swim's become known for, adapted from a play by the three on-point leads. It was an irresistible dive into the suburban dreamscape of Lemoncurd that played like an unholy fusion of Blue Velvet and The Eric Andre Show where the jokes often feel like they're coming from another plane of reality. Naturally it's an acquired taste, but between the surprisingly sharp ATM episode, the horrifying sleepover and the endlessly memeable Cartwheel Club, it was six 11 minute bursts of pure, unflinchingly weird hilarity
And if you like Three Busy Debras, chances are you'll fall for Aunty Donna, too. The Youtube comedy troupe take their antics to Netflix with aplomb. The skits themselves range in quality but there's so many of them and they're all performed with such verve and energy that the misses feel minimal. Gags like Blair Buoyant the Clairvoyant and the sudden conversion of the trio's house into a bar are typical of the energetic stretching of one joke into a five-minute barrage of silliness that more often than not continues to occur throughout the episode. Again, the results won't be for everyone, but few gags were as refreshingly stupid this year as the man who definitely doesn't want to drink your piss
18. After Life
For every moment in After Life where Ricky Gervais gives in to some of his more tiresome indulgences, there's notes of genuine heart and humour that save it from being another extension of his stand-up persona. Released back in April, it was another dive into the softer side of Gervais that we really don't see enough of. What really worked about the second round of the Netflix sad-com is how the show made use of its ensemble. Supporting characters like Paul Kaye's laddish psychiatrist or Joe Wilkinson's postman Pat lend the show's humour more depth and scope. We also saw more of Kerry Goldliman's recently departed Lisa and spent more time with Tony's ailing father Ray, both of whom are crucial to cushioning the show's razor-sharp cynicism. The show also excelled in its tragic moments, treating them with candour and respect. After Life is set to wrap up in 2021 with its third season. Here's hoping he sticks the landing
17. Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist
As far as debuts went, Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist was one of 2020's best. It was sugar-sweet and aggressively optimistic at a time where they were hard virtues to come by. Austin Winberg's sublime musical comedy proved to be an effective antidote to 2020 with hefty doses of humour, heart and showstopping musical numbers in what was a surprisingly nuanced take on grief and tragedy. The cast are stunning- not least an ace turn from Alex Newell- but first among equals is Jane Levy. Her Zoey is one of the year's best characters, instantly likeable, always relatable and frustratingly human. The show finds a happy, effective formula early on before turning it on its head in the latter half. Winberg explores every corner of Zoey's powers, with high points including the sudden reversal of her musical telepathy that leaves her singing her own thoughts out loud, or a deeply touching number entirely performed by deaf actors. Tuning in each week was an invaluable salve during the first lockdown, and a passionately argument for the kind of gradually unfolding storytelling experience impossible to find through binging
16. Devs
Nothing about Devs is easy. The plot unfolds slowly and cryptically, the performances are deliberately muted and the concepts at work are never fully explained. And yet, sci-fi wunderkind Alex Garland rewards patience, using his episodic format to let the story unfold into something unnerving, unexpected and deeply moving. It's an experience, a show that explores concepts of free will vs. determinism while simultaneously using them to propel nail-biting setpieces. Lyndon and Katie's confrontation on the dam is a real marvel, using the audience's knowledge of what's inevitably going to happen against them and injecting heavy doses of feeling into a show that, in different hands, could have come off as coldly mechanical. It's a show concerned with huge philosophical absolutes but always remembers why those concepts matter at all: because they're about people. People who go through the universe helping each other and hurting each other and wondering what it all means. Devs was the kind of viewing experience that was unattainable anywhere else in 2020, exploring in eight short episodes what many series don't achieve over eight seasons
15. Dead to Me
Dead to Me stumbled onto Netflix in 2019 like Big Little Lies' fun, sarcastic cousin. It wasn't a perfect show by any means but it struck gold in its two leads and ended on a cliffhanger so expertly pitched that a follow-up was all but inevitable. Fortunately, the second season is funnier, darker and more twistedly unpredictable than the first. Mastermind Liz Feldman ups the stakes for Judy and Jen, throwing all sorts of messy, challenging reveals into their already deeply-warped path. Following on from season one's absolute bombshell of an ending, the show is able to approach loss from a more complicated angle. At times it almost feels like a ghost story but Feldman always wrangles the show back to Earth with unexpected tenderness and the best quips on TV. Christina Applegate and Linda Cardellini are as perfect as ever, but the show hugely benefits from the arrival of Natalie Morales' Michelle. She softens the tone while also making the plot so much more complicated, and by giving Dead to Me these massive, real-feeling stakes, Feldman is able to navigate the tricky concepts of grief and guilt in a way that's both enjoyably pulpy and hugely empathetic. That's not an easy thing to do, which is part of what makes the prospect of the show's upcoming ultimate season that much more exciting. If you haven't watched Dead to Me yet, pour yourself a glass of orange wine and dig in
14. Sex Education
At the risk of turning this into some sort of gross euphemism, Sex Education's first season was well-meaning, occasionally clumsy and hugely enjoyable. It didn't always seem to know where it was going but it was confident enough to get there anyway. As Otis learns in a hilariously X-rated opening montage, practice makes perfect, and that's something the show's second season demonstrates across eight delightful, funny and heartfelt episodes. There's a much bigger scope this time around, and the show is able to focus on all of its characters so smoothly and completely. The world of the show feels so dynamic and alive, no one feels short-changed, and the ensemble is so diverse that the show can explore so many issues with intimacy and honesty without it ever feeling like a Very Special Episode. The show's discussion on sexual assault in particular is so nuanced and vital: serious props to series creator Laurie Nunn and her team for bringing Aimee's story to the screen with such sensitivity. It just feels like a privilege to spend eight episodes in the world of these characters, and the result is the rare teen series that can appeal to nearly any demographic. Why? Because for all of its when/where-are-we aesthetic shenanigans, Sex Education understands its cast better than most shows on TV. And that's worth celebrating
13. What We Do in the Shadows
They say lightning never strikes the same place twice. Whoever they are, they've obviously never watched FX's glorious What We Do in the Shadows. The film was an unlikely smash, but the prospect of a series seemed like such a risk. Lo and behold, the first season was a riot, extending the film's legacy in a way that was consistently hilarious and delightful. Even still, the idea of a second season still felt like a gamble. What else could they do with the Staten Island quintet? Well for starters, there's Guillermo's ongoing struggle with his vampire hunting destiny, a genuinely fantastic plot that undercuts all the laughs. The gags are still killer though, with the highlights this season including an undead Hayley Joel Osmond, a coven of semen-stealing witches, regular human bartender Jackie Daytona, and the wonderful misunderstanding that is the Superb Owl Party. The show knows exactly what it's working with this time around, and it could have a claim to being the funniest show on TV right now, so purely hilarious and infinitely quotable are the series' jokes. It's consistently hilarious, which in a year that desperately needed laughs, was very welcome indeed
12. The Haunting of Bly Manor
The Haunting of Bly Manor had a lot to live up to. The spiritual sequel to The Haunting of Hill House that's also following Mike Flanagan's ace take on Stephen King with Doctor Sleep, Bly wasn't without its detractors. And okay, it's not Hill House, which stunned with a nuanced, gorgeously realised take on collective grief. But here's the thing: it was never trying to be. Flanagan's take on The Turn of the Screw is quiet and eerie; not scary as much as it is deeply sad. The characters are instantly lovable- shoutout to Owen and his ace food puns- but they also tie perfectly into Bly's take on trauma and the scars that form over time. It's proof that Flanagan has found real magic in his ensemble, from returning players Victoria Pedretti, Oliver Jackson-Cohen, Henry Thomas and Kate Sigel to on-point newcomers Rahul Kohli and T'nia Miller. Every episode feels like another piece of the puzzle, with standouts including self-contained ghost story The Altar of the Dead and time-bending heartbreaker The Romance of of Certain Old Clothes. And although its central framing device doesn't always work, the destination it arrives at is as sincere and heartfelt as Flanagan has ever been: a beautiful, fitting end to an equally stunning season of television
11. The Good Place
It says a lot about how genuinely fantastic The Good Place is that, despite the fact that only four episodes aired in 2020- way back in January no less- it's still one of the year's standout shows 12 months later. The Good Place was always a show that was unafraid to experiment, to shed any previous conceptual commitments and start again from scratch, and as such, it was always going to face serious challenges when coming up with an ending. Fortunately, the series' swansong is as good as it's ever been, four standout chapters that feature high emotional stakes, heady existential conceits and oh-so many laughs. There's huge guest-turns from the likes of Timothy Olyphant and Lisa Kudrow and belting performances from the whole main cast, but special mention as always to the effortlessly charming Ted Danson. What really worked about the finale though was how specific it was. It wasn't a definite end point in all of these character's lives, but a crucial climactic moment that lets each of them decide the ending they want. It's wonderful stuff as always, the perfect end to one of TV's finest comedies
10. Gangs of London
2019 left an Iron Throne-sized hole in the TV canon, and conversation naturally turned to what show- if any- could follow. And while Westworld tries and fails to be HBO's ace in the hole, the natural successor to GOT comes from a slightly more surprising place: Sky Atlantic's Gangs of London. And no, that's not just because Catelyn Stark is in it. Gangs of London has constantly shifting politics, uneasy familial bonds and capital-v violence beautifully brought to the screen by martial arts mastermind Gareth Evans. It's epic television, the story of a city on the brink as the forces that govern it go to war. In a year where blockbuster entertainment was hard to come by, Gangs delivered, especially in its stunning fifth episode that followed a white-knuckle siege on a Welsh safehouse. But what made it work was its throughline, the central mystery around recently murdered patriarch Finn Wallace, expertly played by Colm Meaney. As the show makes sense of what he's left behind, it gradually begins to count down to destruction, threatening a total meltdown that would bring London's underworld to its knees. It's a showcase for all involved, not least leading man Sope Dirisu as the conflicted, tortured undercover cop. It brought a whole universe together with elegance and verve, cementing itself as the most exciting (and brutal) show of the year
9. The Queen's Gambit
It would have been easy for The Queen's Gambit to be another prestige miniseries that attracts critical love and awards attention, but no one actually watched. Thankfully, that wasn't the case at all, and the show turned out to be both highly engaging and a surprising talking point. Its success shouldn't have been a shock- the cast are excellent, the writing is sharp and the whole show just looks gorgeous- but on paper, a miniseries about chess doesn't exactly scream "your next binge". And yet, The Queen's Gambit stunned from the start, a classy, exciting show about obsession, addiction and loss all told through the prism of chess. Anya Taylor-Joy continues the hot streak she's been riding for the past few years as troubled prodigy Beth Harmon, whose rise and fall is charted across seven breathless, engaging episodes. Along the way is a portrait of a young woman fighting through a life fraught with disadvantages who never once lets that define her. The show navigates its themes the same way Beth navigates her life- through chess- and by imbuing every match with huge amounts of meaning and massive dramatic stakes, it ensures that newcomers and grandmasters alike are left on the edge of their seat
8. The Mandalorian
*Both seasons of The Mandalorian were released in Ireland in 2020, so both seasons are being counted on this list*
If you're a long time reader, you'll know my frustration with the most recent installments in the Star Wars universe. After the wonderful The Last Jedi, Solo was frustratingly dull and The Rise of Skywalker came out creatively numb, so one of the joys of 2020 has been watching The Mandalorian and finally getting excited about Star Wars again. The first season was a strong start that explored previously unseen corners of the galaxy, but it's in the show's second year where it really turns up the heat. From its aesthetic- a spaghetti western/ Lone Wolf and Cub fusion- to the largely self-contained episodes that slowly reveal a larger story, there's a lot that Jon Favreau has nailed in The Mandalorian. Even the second season's gradual introduction of familiar faces and places feels relatively smooth, especially impressive in a series that can never quite master fanservice. But the essential ingredient to making it work is the relationship between Mando and the Child, whose name we finally found out this season. It's genuinely tender, and lends huge amounts of heart to the big-budget sci-fi action that the show delivers in every episode. The Mandalorian has done what was progressively beginning to seem impossible: it made Star Wars cool again. And that, my friends, is the way
7. Lovecraft Country
It's been a tricky year for America. From George Floyd and the Black Lives Matter protests in the Summer to the most contentious election in living memory in November, it's been a difficult twelve months, so Lovecraft Country couldn't have come at a better time. A righteously angry horror series that explores the terrors of America's past while also navigating the titular author's problematic politics, Misha Green's show is interested in using genre to explore highly relevant social issues from the start. It mirrors its horror (haunted houses, demons and secret societies) with real world terror (racism, classism and sexism), and through doing that, Green is demanding that history doesn't repeat itself more than it already has. The scares are sublime, creatively icky and stuffed with meaning, and the show draws on history and lore that urges the viewer to keep educating themselves beyond what they see onscreen. Lovecraft Country is intelligent and thrilling and filled with some of the year's best characters and Green ensures that everyone gets their due and feels important. Particularly she hones in on the women in Atticus Freeman's life. Episodes like Strange Case and I Am aren't just great episodes of television; they're pieces of genre storytelling that explore issues faced by women of colour at the time and in the present. In a year where the American identity was fraught with chaos and uncertainty, Lovecraft Country snapped things back into brilliant, bloody focus
6. Primal
Western animation has been on the up and up for the last decade now. Shows like Gravity Falls and Steven Universe have pushed the envelope for animated storytelling on TV, but the medium has also been embraced by showrunners looking to tell stories that are slightly more adult in their content. Primal is, simply put, the best animated show currently airing right now. Created by Samurai Jack's Gennedy Tartakovsky, the show follows a caveman and a dinosaur united in tragedy and only able to rely on each other as they traverse a perilous prehistoric landscape. The show looks gorgeous, fully making use of its medium to spin yarns that just aren't possible in live action. The aesthetic lies somewhere between a heavy-metal album cover and the worst trip you've ever had, but what makes Primal so great is its surprisingly huge amounts of empathy. The way Spear and Fang navigate their respective losses is rendered with such sensitivity and nuance that goes a long way in forming the show's backbone. As the show goes on, episodes like A Cold Death and The Coven of the Damned demonstrate that while the world is full of suffering, sharing their pain makes people/dinosaurs/mammoths/witches stronger, and it's this demonstration of collective grief that makes Primal so engrossing. It's fantastic, the same mix of eye-popping visual storytelling and genuine emotional stakes that made Samurai Jack a classic
5. The Boys
2020 was the first year in a decade without an installment in the MCU. In the meantime, the Snyder cult finally got their wish and countless articles were written pondering the hole the general absence of comic book films left in the pop-culture landscape. And in this breathing space, we got the second season of Amazon Prime's insane, riotous The Boys. The show was good in its first year but that was just a warm up for what Eric Kripke and his team have dreamed up for Butcher, Hughie, Starlight et al. in this utterly batshit second outing, The show balances an intelligent take on the abuse of power, the rise of the alt-right and the power of the media with the crass insanity of superhero porn, disembowled whales and a very horny bulldog. It's trashy, pulpy and fun but the way it explores its ideas is genuinely shocking and relevant. The montage at the start of the seventh episode demonstrates how alt-right movements gain traction over social media and manipulate the weak, and the very idea of Aya Cash's Stormfront is terrifyingly appropriate for 2020. And although the weekly release drew scorn from some fans, it actually really worked in the show's favour, giving the insane world of the show time to expand and develop. And the payoff was more than worth it: one beatdown in the finale is deeply, deeply satisfying. The Boys was undoubtedly the show for a year without Marvel, gleefully, ruthlessly poking fun at our obsession with superheroes and our worst social urges in one fell swoop. In a word? Diabolical
4. Ghosts
If you've been paying attention to British TV comedy in the last few years, you'll know that the trend at the minute is the sadcom: Fleabag, After Life, Uncle and a wealth of other shows that ground their comedy with moments of frank heartbreak. And that's great- all of these shows are ace, and balance their contrasting tones wonderfully- but there's something to be said about the purity of humble, unassuming silliness. Ghosts doesn't have anything the say about the human condition or the society we live in. There's no social commentary or deeper themes, and despite its post-watershed airtime, the comedy is fairly general and accessible for all audiences.
And yet, Ghosts is one of the best things on TV. Why? Because it's funny. Written by and starring the troupe behind Horrible Histories and Yonderland, Ghosts demonstrates how much this ensemble have honed their comedy over the last eleven years. They've adapted their style for an adult audience wonderfully, especially in the second season. The show is hilarious, benefitting from a varied cast of characters that allow it to explore so many different kinds of comedy. Newcomers to the troupe like Charlotte Richie and Lolly Adefope assimilate so well to the team's hyper-specific brand of humour, and the result is one of the funniest casts on TV. It's such a warm show too. Every character is likeable, from lovelorn poet Thomas Thorne to ridiculously charming caveman Robin, and the way the show is gradually teasing out its characters backstories this season is great, too. The show has won itself and ardent, dedicated fanbase, and it's not hard to see why. In a dark year, its blend of kindness and silliness was greatly appreciated
And the Christmas special? Truly wonderful
3. Normal People
Normal People was unlike anything else on TV in 2020. For one, it's hard to think of another show this year that attracted this level of obsession, to the point where even Connell's trademark chain had its own ferociously devoted fanbase. Part of the phenomenon of the show was undeniably in the timing, delivering intimacy and human connection right at the start of the lockdown. As such, the show's gorgeously observed moments of love and empathy really resonated. Connell and Marianne's love story was irresistible, painfully real and frustratingly imperfect but also so full of genuine warmth. It attracted huge amounts of attention for its sex scenes, and rightfully so: it portrays the characters' intimacy beautifully while also examining how they're using sex as a form of communication. It's in these moments that they give each other permission to engage with the parts of themselves they keep hidden from the rest of the world, and it's here where we as an audience see them as they really are
It's a beautiful love story that also expresses so much more along the way. The eighth episode feels like it's ripped right out of Luca Guadagnino's playbook, while episode ten is a frank, hard-hitting take on male mental health that's never felt more relevant. The show is always empathetic to its characters even when nobody else- including themselves- can understand them. Connell's spiral into isolated depression and Marianne's unhealthy choices in her relationships are treated delicately, which is exactly what allows directors Lenny Abrahamson and Hettie MacDonald, as well as writers Sally Rooney, Alice Birch and Mark O'Rowe, to open their inner worlds and put the most specific, powerful human emotions onscreen. Normal People is a beautiful whirlwind of a show that flies by in a heartbeat and leaves hugely profound observations on love and loss in its wake
2. Bojack Horseman
After beginning with a first season that nobody really knew what to do with, Bojack Horseman grew into one of the funniest, smartest and most brutal shows on TV. It approached depression and addiction with honesty, tore into the dark side of the entertainment industry and delivered some note perfect animal puns over the course of six seasons, but its final trick was its most impressive: it had a perfect ending. The second half of season six was very much Bojack's downward spiral, as his past caught up with his and flung him to the darkest territory that the show has ever tackled. As Bojack's life unraveled, the show forced us to see him as he really is, leaving every one of his sins out in the open. Naturally, it was an uncomfortable, suffocating watch, but it still found time to give Princess Carolyn her happy ending and deliver one of the best depictions of the writing process ever put to screen. It was classic Bojack: emotional and intelligent and brimming with life
But what made the last batch of episodes so monumentally great was how respectful they felt. Not necessarily to the characters, but to the show's carefully constructed tone. The show was never going to have a happy ending- that would be too easy- but too bleak of a finish would have betrayed the uneasy hope the show had built in Bojack over 69 episodes. The finale is uncertain but optimistic, very much keeping true to the tone the show had perfected over its run. It was beautiful, heartbreaking stuff that somehow still managed to be one of the funniest shows on TV. Will we ever see the likes of Bojack again? Maybe not, but it was nice while it lasted
1. Better Call Saul
It seems like such a long time ago, but back in 2015, Better Call Saul was this unlikely little spin-off that crept out of the legacy of one of the greatest shows of all time and came out pretty good in its own right. Five years later, Vince Gilligan's masterful extension of Breaking Bad is a) quite possibly the best show on TV right now and b) maybe even better than its drug-cooking older brother. This was the year the four-season slow burn paid off, where the eternally shifting dynamic between Jimmy and Kim clashed with the bloody, nightmarish underworld and exploded into something beautiful. Every time it looked like Gilligan had played his ace, he immediately followed up with something even better. Wexler vs. Goodman, Bagman and Bad Choice Road are three of the greatest hours of television in recent memory, but the genius of Saul lies in how it takes these standout chapters and makes them work in such glorious harmony. They're parts of a whole, but so much more as well: individual landmarks along a larger road to ruin
As always, the blend of humour and tragedy is perfect. One minute you're giggling at Jimmy's escalating pranks on the delightfully dickish Howard, the next you're deeply distressed by Kim's confrontation of the fearsome Lalo Salamanca. The show is a masterclass in tone, but the longer it goes on, the better Gilligan seems to become at layering the world of Jimmy McGill with pathos and meaning. Jimmy's relationship with Kim has become so central to the heart of the show, and Gilligan dangles our uncertainity of her fate over us, daring us to keep watching to find out what happens. Rhea Seehorn is incredible, giving the audience a perspective on a side of Jimmy that he doesn't even know he has. Gilligan puts their relationship to the test in this season but always teases more chaos to come. Everything in this season comes to a head in the last moment, a jaw-dropping ten second-long gesture that promises that, whatever happens next, it's not going to be good
Every episode cemented the legacy of both the show and its creator. Breaking Bad was already the quintessential modern American myth but Saul surpasses it with a depth of feeling that Walter White's cold sociopathy never allowed for. We love Jimmy enough to hate him every time he makes a wrong turn, and the show is actually more thrilling because we know where most of the cast end up. There's nothing on TV like Better Call Saul right now, a perfect add-on to a masterpiece that's a marvel in its own right. It's truly spectacular, and my favourite show of 2020
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