So alive and well, in fact, that compiling a comprehensive list has become something of a fool's errand. It's impossible to cover everything that defined the year, but what I have seen has left me so incredibly optimistic for TV going forward. What 2021 lacked in returning favourites it made up for with a deep bench of new shows that showcased some incredibly fresh and exciting ideas. As for the ones that did come back this year, they were (mostly) sharper and stronger than ever, perfectly picking up where their previous seasons left off to act as familiar tonics in a year that really needed them. Whatever you're in the market for, 2021 had the show for you, so let's look back before we move forward and celebrate the best shows of the year that was. All the regular stuff applies: this list only covers things I've seen and doesn't account for anything I've missed or haven't quite caught up with (which is a fair bit!), and the order is entirely based on how I feel about these shows as I'm writing this. This year was incredible, and putting an order on this- especially the top eight, any of which could've taken the top spot on a different day- was truly painful. All of these shows are great, and even better, all of them are totally different, so if you're looking for your next binge, there's a fair chance it's on this list
So with that out of the way, why don't we get into things?
15. Lupin (Netflix)
One of the best things about Netflix in 2021 is how much faith they put into their international productions, turning what could have been underseen curios into full-blown cultural phenomena, and rightfully so. Lupin was their first big hit of the year, handily released in two parts (the first was an early confirmation that TV this year was in good hands, the second was perfect summer escapism), with a flow and style straight out of a Soderbergh crime caper. Based loosely on the tales of the legendary jewel thief, Lupin drips with ice-cold charisma from the first episode, filled with slick heist sequences that frequently position the show, and its cunning protagonist, ten steps ahead of the audience at all times. It's massive amounts of fun to watch Assane's plans click into place, and Lupin is always able to back this up with enough heart and sly commentary to make for some of the year's most purely entertaining viewing. It's not hard to see why this show was such a big binge for so many people, especially when series lead Omar Sy is such charismatic company that those 10 hours absolutely fly by. Fortunately there's a third part on the way to pick up from the tenth episode's open ending, so lucky for us, it looks like we'll be seeing a lot more of this smooth criminal very, very soon
14. Time (BBC)
Time is not an easy show to watch. This is apparent from the harrowing opening moments, where Sean Bean's Mark spends his first night in prison. The subject matter is bleaker-than-bleak and the show is totally unrelenting in how it portrays it, but it's in that total unflinching honesty that Time really gains traction and becomes one of the year's most moving miniseries. In mirroring Mark's experiences with those of jaded warden Eric, Time is able to construct a comment on the prison system that massively benefits from the differing perspectives. Here, everyone is a prisoner, trapped not just by walls and bars, but by guilt, fear and the expectations of a broken institution. Again, it's difficult stuff to stomach, but writer Jimmy McGovern is characteristically sensitive, regularly finding the humanity in the most brutal of circumstances. Bean and Stephen Graham are on formidable form here as men living minute to minute, and the show strips away any sensationalism to focus on what really matters: the quiet compassion that the system is constantly trying to suppress
13. Ted Lasso (Apple TV+)
Ted Lasso's second season is a little less consistent than its debut run, which ultimately costs it a spot in the top ten, but it's hard to stay mad at Jason Sudeikis' human-golden-retriever for long, and there's still a lot to love in this show's sophomore year. The character work is as strong as ever, with highlights being Roy's big rom-com moment with his ex-club, Beard's night on the town, and Rebecca's heartfelt Rickrolling of a church full of people (it makes sense in context). The longer episodes and more frequent leans into darkness are also welcome additions, allowing us to spend more time in the world of AFC Richmond and get further acquainted with the characters we'd already grown to love. The show's trademark wholesomeness was also back and stronger than ever, though this time tempered with the unexpected consequences of Ted's eternal friendliness. Sure, it struggles to arrange its (consistently very good) episodes into a compelling arc, and I'd really appreciate if they picked one storyline for Sam instead of having him pinball around three different plotlines before setting up a fourth in the finale, but the lines are as funny as ever, and being able to return to Richmond each week became a real comfort in a very long year. Who knows what's next for the Greyhounds, but one thing's for certain: the Lasso way hasn't run out of steam just yet
12. The Underground Railroad (Amazon Prime)
The way that television is distributed and consumed has changed so much in the last five years, and I think that some shows are completely underserved by the day and date release model that's essentially designed to be binged. Case in point, The Underground Railroad, Barry Jenkins' first made-for-TV project and one of the most striking shows of the year. Jenkins is a filmmaker known for woozy visual poetry and unflinching compassion, and in bringing this piece of historical fiction to life, he takes advantage of so many moments to flex his creative muscles. Like Time, this is frequently harrowing television that refuses to look away from the horrors of the past, but the thrill of watching The Underground Railroad was seeing how inventively the show brought one of the darkest periods of American history to life. It was formless and meandering, devoting an entire episode to the backstory of Joel Edgerton's terrifying slave catcher before slowing down the action two episodes later to reflect on the road so far. The show's focus drifts frequently, but because all of it is excellent, that's hardly an issue, and Jenkins' loose storytelling style is right at home in this chapter-based structure. Of course, none of it means anything without Thuso Mbedu, whose performance as Cora imbues the show with so much heart and humanity that every moment of pain is worth it for the insights that the show unlocks through her eyes. A worthy addition to Jenkins' catalogue of modern classics
11. Betty (HBO)
2021 thankfully didn't have as many notable cancellations as previous years, but among those that did get the axe, few stung quite as much as Betty. Crystal Moselle's beautiful, low-stakes comedy drama set around the New York skateboarding scene really came into its own in its second year, where it addressed the fears and frustrations of a post-pandemic world with compassion and honesty. No show on this list feels as contemporary, and no show I've seen has provided a better portrait of Gen Z to date. Moselle's follow-up to her film Skate Kitchen has always succeeded on the strength of its casual gaze, which captures the richness of its central friendships almost by accident. Season two is more of the gorgeously observed same, but Betty learns all of the right lessons from its debut year. The focus is as lovingly meandering as always, though the character work feels much sharper here, with each character providing a differing take on a world that really doesn't know what to do with itself. It's the exact kind of story that we need now, about young people just being in spite of the messiness and loudness of the world, which makes it all the more frustrating that it got cancelled so soon. All the same, it really doesn't change how much ground Betty is able to cover while seeming so effortless. If hangouts are your thing, get on this ASAP
10. Only Murders in the Building (Hulu)
Steve Martin and Martin Short's comic chemistry really needs no introduction at this point, and a lot of Only Murders will inevitably feel familiar to some, but in a year like 2021, that sort of instantly recognisable charm was very welcome, especially when the show didn't rely on cheap tricks in the pursuit of nostalgia points. No, this very much feels like the duo (along with stand-in third amigo Selena Gomez providing an excellent point of contrast to them both) taking the formulas that they found success with all those years ago and applying it to something that feels both of-the-moment and well-established, that being the murder mystery genre, and more specifically true crime. It was huge amounts of fun that displayed some of the most excitingly creative moments on TV this year (the recurring Sting cameo, the dialogue-free episode, the Broadway interludes), while also providing a really satisfying mystery to boot. It's familiar in all of the right ways but everyone involved with it is so clearly comfortable in what they do that the show really just picks up a rhythm early on and keeps it going up till the last minute. Every reveal is underscored by its impact on one of the three leads as well, and the show makes sure that you're invested in all of them, even if you're like the fans outside the building and you've got a clear favourite. Mine? Well that's Steve Martin's Charles Haden-Savage, one of the best curmudgeons he's played to date but also a character with a surprisingly soulful arc and a knack for sexy scrabble. Worth the watch for that alone
9. I Think You Should Leave (Netflix)
Inconsistency is a tough hurdle to overcome in sketch comedy: what do you do if a joke doesn't work, or you play it for too long and it feels awkward? If you're Tim Robinson, you make it part of the joke. I Think You Should Leave had a great first season full of enough glorious weirdness to garner an instant cult following, but the show's second run is where Robinson's 17 minute capsules of genius really hit their full potential. The show is much more reliable this time around, with almost every joke and concept delivering something so incredibly specific but consistently hilarious. Robinson and co. obviously have an incredible handle on skit-based comedy, to the point where they can break the rules and reshape the conventions again and again and always hit the mark, usually coining some incredibly quotable dialogue in the process. Here, the highlights included a prank show that turned into an existential nightmare, a man who owns every kind of classic car (he's even got triples of the Barracuda), and the absolute epic that is the Dangerous Nights sloppy steak sketch. ITYSL has always been a stellar portrait of our collective awkwardness but the second season gets it down to a science, showing how the things that make us cringe can also be what unites us, and Robinson invites his audience to share in the discomfort with him. Maybe there was a time I wouldn't have had this show on the list, but if that one baby taught us anything, it's that people can change
8. It's a Sin (Channel 4)
Oh yeah, we're in the big leagues now. There was a lot of great TV this year, and the next eight shows are the ones that I really think define 2021 as a great year for television. Russell T. Davies' groundbreaking chronicle of the AIDS epidemic as seen through the eyes of five friends was one of the first big smash hits of the year, and for good reason. It would have been easy for this to become a miserable, grueling affair-and Davies spares none of the heartbreak or devastation in bringing this story to life- but the real magic of It's a Sin comes from how celebratory the show feels. Davies champions a community that came together in the face of shared adversity, taking a stand against not just the virus, but the bigotry and misinformation that repeatedly stood in the way of productive action. It's honest above anything else, and while the show never shies away from how harrowing its subject matter is, the way Davies incorporates moments of love, tenderness, sex and solidarity really makes this feel like a landmark in British television. Special mention as well to the cast, especially the five leads who are all absolutely stunning, and never anything less than 100% human
7. The White Lotus (HBO)
2021 was such a hellish, inescapably awful year that even our fictional getaways were dripping with venom. Mike White's excellent comedy-drama-almost-horror miniseries was frequently uncomfortable, cringe-inducing viewing, and yet it was one of the hardest shows to put down this year. Essentially using its setting (an idyllic Hawaiian resort) as a backdrop for exploring ideas of privilege, entitlement and social dysfunction, the show was as bitingly relevant as it was electric and hilarious. It pulses with a real sticky heat that makes it that much more tense, perfectly offset by some of the most deliciously unlikeable characters of the year, especially Jake Lacy's deeply despicable Shane. It's important without ever sacrificing its sense of fun, and there's a real wicked kick about watching the most horrifically entitled people in the world constantly outdo themselves in terms of their awfulness. And then there's Murray Bartlett as beleaguered manager Armond, a character who's immediately more striking than a shit in a suitcase. Through him, The White Lotus makes some damning comments on the sorry state of the service industry that linger long after the sun sets on the masterful last episode. Originally intended as a one-and-done, the show was so popular that a second season is on the way, and despite the unpleasant clientele, the sound of another stay in The White Lotus is oh-so-welcome
6. Midnight Mass (Netflix)
Mike Flanagan has really made a name for himself when it comes to horror on TV with the Haunting of Hill House and The Haunting of Bly Manor, and Midnight Mass is a worthy, wordy addition to his canon. Yes the show is a dialogue-heavy slow-burn but Flanagan excels at painting a small-town community with so much depth and empathy that the slow pace becomes part of the charm, and the monologues frequently devastate. And when the show does depict its central horror, it's as bleak and cruel as Flanagan has ever been. While the Haunting shows argued that love is a force capable of surviving any evil, Midnight Mass is decidedly more nihilistic, suggesting that destruction comes for us all, so we might as well face it together. Along the way, there's profound insights on faith, redemption and addiction, brought to life by a cast that combines some of Flanagan's main players (great to see Rahul Kohli come back as yet another standout character), as well as a couple of new faces, such as Hamish Linklater's deeply disturbed Father Paul Hill, who proves that the road to hell really is paved with good intentions. It was as meticulous and beguiling as TV got this year, and absolutely worth the patience for the jaw-dropping, gut-wrenching final episode
5. Mare of Easttown (HBO)
Arguably the most prestigious show of the year was Brad Inglesby's masterful slow-burning mystery, where the mystery itself was far from the most interesting part of the story. This was one of the most anticipated shows of the year before it even aired; Kate Winslet embodying a haunted detective in a lush HBO crime-drama was a guaranteed hit from the off. And yet Mare still managed to deliver a number of real surprises over its seven-episode run, not least in how it spun a yarn set in a community that felt lived in and real straight from the start. Here, the people are the stories and their secrets make up the world they live in, a world that Inglesby and co. take great pleasure in digging deeper and deeper into. Every layer unearthed is another step closer to the truth that also really serves this show's weighty, sensitively handled themes. Motherhood, grief, love and guilt are all firmly at the forefront, and the show is smart enough to use the mystery to Trojan horse its frequently devastating insights into an utterly engrossing story of a town reeling from a collective tragedy. But none of this would mean anything without Kate Winslet, giving a career-best turn as a woman navigating unspeakable pain as she strives to do right by those who rely on her. In a year where the debate about streaming killing appointment TV rumbled on, the frequently unmissable twists and turns of Mare were proof that there's still some life in the watercooler moment yet
4. We Are Lady Parts (Channel 4)
Arguably the most joyful show of the year was this six-part dose of pure electricity that followed an all-girl Muslim punk band in their pursuit of greatness. We Are Lady Parts has as much on its mind as the titular band, from representation (more specifically the idea of representing yourself through your art) to friendship, the act of creation and the process of overcoming anxiety, but what really makes this show pop is the sheer ecstatic sense of joy radiating out of it at every possible moment. Every character is instantly loveable, the gags are spot-on and the soundtrack is packed with wall to wall bangers (good luck getting Bashir with the Good Beard out of your head), but what makes We Are Lady Parts soar is how it takes all of these elements and makes them work in total harmony. The show finds its flow pretty much from the first scene and somehow manages to keep the glee going right up until its fist-pump of an ending. It's punchy and sharp, constantly making some really inventive creative decisions and always delivering on them with some real good naturedness. Few sitcom debuts in recent memory have been this energetic and purely fun right out of the gate, and I cannot wait to see where this show goes from here. It just rocks, plain and simple
3. Reservation Dogs (FX)
As TV gradually becomes more cinematic with each passing year (2021 literally saw several shows act as tie-ins to big screen franchises), it's perhaps useful to remember that a great show can do an awful lot with very little, and that's where Reservation Dogs comes in. Created by Sterlin Harjo and Taika Waititi, the show feels like a coming-of-age companion to the latter's Boy, tackling teenage listlessness where that film explored the idealism of childhood. The beauty of this show lies in how uneventful it is, following a group of teenagers on a quest to escape their hometown and using each episode to break down what makes each character want to leave before asking what could potentially make them stay. But in the slowness, there is a great amount of genius, and the way the show gradually starts to break form and play more and more with its medium is a real thrill. And as the eight episodes go on, Reservation Dogs starts to reveal itself as something entirely different than what it started as: a depiction of how grief changes everything it touches. It's deeply moving and frequently hilarious, a thoughtful and heartfelt portrait of native life that may not have the immediate punch of some of the year's flashier shows, but reaches levels of depth that few other comedies or even most dramas this year could muster
2. Squid Game (Netflix)
The TV phenomenon that defined the year, Squid Game is a show that really needs no introduction at this point, and like most things that become very popular very quickly, it attracted a fair few detractors, but I think it's one of the best things Netflix has ever put out. The conversation around this show has been so huge and covered most of what makes it work, and there's not an awful lot to add at this point. Squid Game takes a lot of familiar themes and ideas but puts them together with so much brio that even the most well-worn of its beats hit the mark. The show renders each character's reason for playing with so much sincerity, and as a result, every moment of every game bursts off of the screen. It's rollercoaster TV, but that's precisely what makes it work. It's exciting and tense, and once the show has your attention, it forces the audience to interrogate why they're so shocked and devastated. Again, the ideas it's playing with are mostly simple, but it's through being broad and direct that Squid Game found such an audience, uniting most of the world with a straightforward attack on things we all know to be true. As long as the system pits the have-nots against each other for the entertainment of the haves, this show is going to hold a lot of weight. The second season promises to expand the show's universe, but after a run this electric, what else is there to say?
1. Succession (HBO)
Sometimes I wonder if there's a bias towards the familiar with lists like these. Most of the shows I loved in 2021 were debuts or miniseries, but does Succession top the list just because it's the latest installment of one of my all time favourite shows? Is this a cop-out based on a love of the already familiar? If you've seen this season-a whirlwind of weaponised Nirvana songs, misplaced dick pics and abrasive Scandinavian billionaires- you'll know that the answer is obviously not. Succession is the best it's ever been, gracefully picking up from that second season finale with week after week of perfection, each episode somehow better than the last. It's another example of the show's real episodic power, where each episode explores an event or a setting and uses it as the backdrop of a very specific corner of the Waystar saga. There's Kendall's birthday with all of its Freudian horror, Caroline's Tuscan wedding and the decades of family drama it dredges up, and my pick of the bunch, the Future Freedom Summit, the setting for the most horrifying episode of the year, where the 1% decide what the next four years of American politics could look like
Along the way, the show excels at deepening the already complex and intricate characters. Tom in particular goes from being an enjoyably pathetic hanger-on to the season's MVP, while Kendall doubles down on his status as the most unfortunate boy and Logan goes full pantomime villain. Most of what I said about it in my list of favourite shows still holds weight, but what thrilled me about this season in particular is how it places so much more emphasis on how awful the wicked world of Waystar really is. The show isn't interested in retracing comfortable territory (even if the middle few episodes feel a smidge familiar), and the show digs deep into the social commentary to make this the most aggressive season yet. No one is spared, and the near-the-knuckle references are consistently cringe-worthy in the best way possible
I've said before that this is the one show on TV right now that everyone should be watching, and sure enough, the third season of Succession really lives up to that. It's essential viewing for its commentary alone, but the acting and dialogue are the best they've ever been, plus the show has really found its groove by making every shareholder meeting and party conference roar with the high drama of the Battle of the Bastards. It's the show of the year on just about every level, and if the second season dropped the mic with its ending, then the third season's finale has me champing at the bit to see what happens next. Succession: my favourite show of 2021
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