20. “The Handmaid’s Tale” (2016—Current, Hulu)
You can objectively cut the past decade in half in some ways — before Donald Trump entered the presidential race and after he won. No show exemplified the horror of the actions of the new administration in its first few months than Bruce Miller’s inspired modern-day adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s seminal novel. Miller’s brilliance in conveying how relatively quickly the U.S. could flip into an authoritarian state was what made it so difficult to watch. Would Offred, a magnificent Elisabeth Moss, escape her forced position as a surrogate for the ruling glass in the newly christened Gilead? Would she find the daughter that was taken away from her and reunite with her husband in the still “normal” and freedom flying country of Canada? Miller may have let the game run a bit too long in season three, but those two first seasons were terrifying. It’s pretty much a compliment to a piece of content like “Handmaid’s” if you admit you have to stop watching it because it simply feels all too real. – GE
19. “Better Call Saul” (2015—Current, AMC)
More than a few fans of Vince Gilligan’s “Breaking Bad” were left scratching their heads while digesting the first season of that classic show’s low-key spinoff “Better Call Saul,” focusing on the misdeeds of everyone’s favorite two-timing Southwestern lawyer, Jimmy McGill, and understandably so; while “Breaking Bad” seemed to relish in Shakespearean twists and outsized acts of cruelty and violence, “Saul” is a laconic hangout show where people occasionally get killed over drug deals gone bad. That said, “Saul” offers an embarrassment of riches all its own: indelible lowlife dialogue indebted to crime novelists like George V. Higgins and Joe Landsdale, a direction that’s as stylishly inimitable as “Breaking Bad,” and a lead performance from Bob Odenkirk that’s alternately powerful, pitiable, and calamitously funny. Odenkirk shines in episode after episode, with smashing support from Jonathan Banks as hardened yet affable fixer Mike Ehrmantraut, Michael Mando as morally conflicted drug runner Nacho, and Rhea Seehorn as Kim Wexler, the last bastion of innocence in an increasingly corrupt moral landscape. – NL
18. “Justified” (2010—2015, FX)
It’s hard to imagine “Justified” gaining traction in today’s television climate. After all, it’s a show about a gun-loving Kentucky good ol’ boy, adapted from a rowdy series of crime novels written by that master of the form, Elmore Leonard. And yet, while “Justified” is undoubtedly a product of the FX lowlife drama mold, it’s a more whimsical, even gentle example of its type – especially when compared to the grisly, mean-spirited likes of “The Shield” and Kurt Sutter’s macho biker slog “Sons of Anarchy.” And while “Justified” contained no shortage of shootouts, gore, and four-letter words, the show was most compelling when its characters took a break from the plot to kick back, relax, and hang out. Timothy Olyphant maximizes hissmoldering movie-star charisma as U.S. Deputy Marshall Raylan Givens, a straight-shootin’, unthinkably charming Southern lawman who has a firm grasp on what is right and what is wrong, even if he sometimes has to lean into the latter to achieve the former. It’s a terrific turn, equally matched by the incredible Walton Goggins as Raylan’s nefarious archrival Boyd Crowder, providing audiences (and Olyphant himself) with a deliciously wicked foil for all six seasons of this endlessly rewatchable show.- NL
17. “Hannibal” (2013—2015, NBC)
Everyone has his or her favored iteration of cultured cannibal Hannibal Lecter. Some are partial to Anthony Hopkins’ immortal interpretation from Jonathan Demme’s classic “The Silence of the Lambs,” while others prefer the mannered mania of Brian Cox in Michael Mann’s ’80s cult item “Manhunter.” With “Hannibal,” Bryan Fuller’s Grand Guignol opera of blood, brain matter, and male longing, Danish treasure Mads Mikkelsen took his place on that list. As Lecter, Mikkelsen is downright affable, while nevertheless personifying the very nature of evil itself; he seems like the kind of fellow you’d invite over for dinner, even though he might feast on your vital organs by the end of the night. With “Hannibal,” Fuller transformed Thomas Harris’ series of pulp novels into a gothic, gray andly romantic visual feast, with murder tableaus that occasionally resembled Caravaggio paintings in their moribund elegance. While Mikkelsen is undeniably the star of the show, Hugh Dancy created an admirably committed performance as Lecter’s tormented nemesis Will Graham, and Laurence Fishburne managed to make a powerful impression as headstrong FBI profiler Jack Crawford. If you haven’t seen “Hannibal” yet, seek it out immediately – it’s a five-course meal of beautiful barbarity.- NL
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sx9bjEfzV_s
16. “Veep” (2012—2019, HBO)
Few shows in the history of television have made as magnificent use of profanity as HBO’s “Veep.” The early seasons of Armando Iannucci’s scalpel-sharp political satire play like a particularly American-made ruthless farce, depicting modern-day Washington D.C. as a cesspool of sycophants and strivers for whom no amount of undercutting or back-stabbing is morally dubious enough, so long as it means they’re secured a position at the top of the trash pile. In the era of President Donald Trump, “Veep” almost plays like a cautionary tale with jokes. It doesn’t hurt that Selina Meyer is one of HBO’s most memorable comic creations, largely thanks to what is perhaps Julia-Louis Dreyfus’ most accomplished small-screen performance (sorry, “Seinfeld”). The ensemble on “Veep” was, in its prime, one of the best on TV; “Arrested Development’s” Tony Hale was a magnificent, ass-kissing dweeb as Meyer’s right-hand lackey Gary Walsh, Anna Chlumsky admirably captured the frustration and impotence of a qualified woman in an aggressively mediocre male ecosystem, and Timothy Simons gave one of the most marvelously reprehensible performances in TV history as human punching bag Jonah Ryan. Iannucci’s departure from the show resulted in a slight downturn in overall quality during “Veep’s” last two seasons, but this is still very much a show we’ll miss dearly – in all its cynical, cold-hearted, foul-mouthed glory. – NL
15. “Bojack Horseman” (2014—Current, Netflix)
If “Bojack Horseman” weren’t such a colorful, funny, and inventive show – packed with insouciant witticisms, jaw-dropping animation, and plentiful animal jokes – it would be a mighty tough sit. Raphael Bob-Waksberg’s delirious, downbeat tragicomedy about a washed-up former sitcom star who happens to be a horse is an alternately kindhearted and stinging contemplation of depression, and what it means to live with that burden on a day-to-day basis; it’s perhaps a sign of the times that one of the most purely human comedies in our TV landscape features a feline talent agent and an irrepressible canine movie star as lead characters. This last season was arguably the best to date (the audacious “Free Churro,” essentially a 26-minute monologue by Bojack at his late mother’s funeral, was recently nominated for a well-deserved Emmy), as Waksberg and the writers seem to have mastered the show’s funny-sad alchemy in a way that few other small-screen comedies are able to imitate. Will Arnett continues to give an utterly devastating central performance as the titular alcoholic, self-loathing colt, though he’s given a big boost by “Breaking Bad’s” Aaron Paul as the irrepressibly enthusiastic (and asexual) Todd Chavez, Alison Brie as the recently-divorced Diane Nguyen, and a rotating roster of A-list guest stars. – NL
14. “Mindhunter” (2017—Current, Netflix)
A David Fincher-shepherded series about the origin of the term “serial killer” was guaranteed to pique our interest, and “Mindhunter” not only delivered on its promise – it continues to reveal how much the visually concentrated, near-unrivaled stylist can influence the sensibility of an entire project. “Mindhunter” is fascinated by the calm silences and repressed secrets of human horror (“people are perverts”), which Fincher and his fellow episode directors (including Carl Franklin, Andrew Dominick, and Asif Kapadia) often find more unsettling than the actual homicides being investigated. And the performances are first-rate; Jonathan Groff and Holt McCallany have developed a prickly, complicated chemistry, while Anna Torv is making TV fans seriously wonder if Carrie Coon has somehow been cloned by David Fincher’s digital enhancements. – AB
13. “The Night Of” (2016, HBO)
Richard Price has cemented himself as one of our great crime writers through a series of novels, screenplays and adaptations, but his 2016 HBO mini-series “The Night Of” might be his magnum opus – the kind of undeniably brilliant, compulsively watchable, thematically rich series that only a pro at the height of their powers can create. Touching on topics ranging from institutionalized racism, the corruption of the American judicial system, anti-Muslim fervor, the broken and inhumane conditions of privatized prisons, and what it means to be a person of color in the United States today, “The Night Of” is a masterclass in all aspects of the medium, while also an important reminder that art can be timely without feeling exploitative; the series never loses sight of the mystery at its core, while posing bigger questions about a system that profits from and holds down people of color. Riz Ahmed’s subtle powerhouse of a performance as a young man convicted of a grisly murder he may or may not have committed carries us through a consistently engrossing eight episodes, all directed with expert precision by Steven Zaillian, but John Turturro’s revelatory turn as an ambulance chaser attorney was the beating heart of the series. Turturro has been one of our greatest character actors since the ‘80s, but his performance here is the best work of a stellar career. Price doesn’t show us a broken system – he shows us a system designed to oppress, and working just as it was intended. — MR
12. “Fargo” (2014—Current, FX)
Adapting “Fargo” always sounded like a bad idea, and the first season of Noah Hawley’s playful reimagining of Joel and Ethan Coen’s seminal Midwestern noir didn’t do much initially to instill confidence. But then, a funny thing happened: following its wonky pilot episode, “Fargo” proceeded to get really, really good. Far from a beat-by-beat imitation, Hawley’s show is an affectionate, macabre form of elevated fan fiction, slyly riffing on themes and ideas from the original film (and the entire Coen filmography), and repurposing them towards a bold and darkly amusing new end. Each season of “Fargo” adopts a slightly different tone, while nevertheless sticking to the basic narrative blueprint established by the film. “Fargo” consistently boasts some of the most clever writing and directing on TV, so it’s not hard to see why the show has attracted actors the caliber of Martin Freeman, Kirsten Dunst, Jesse Plemmons, and David Thewlis (the upcoming season is set to star Chris Rock, Ben Whishaw, and Jason Schwartzman, among others). Hawley hit a bit of a creative roadblock with this year’s “Lucy in the Sky,” his feature-film debut, but hopefully, the writer/director/showrunner will find his sweet spot once again in “Fargo’s” long-awaited fourth season. - NL
11. “Game of Thrones” (2011—2019, HBO)
At this point, what else is there to say about “Game of Thrones?” It’s arguably the most written-about and talked-about non-“Sopranos” show in the history of prestige TV. While many small-screen fantasy epics buckle under the weight of their own self-imposed ambition, “Game of Thrones” was a rare example of a show that was much deeper and more rewarding than the scorn it was frequently greeted with. For the many moving pieces of its narrative – “GoT” was nothing if not a plot-lover’s show – it was also a capital-D drama offering meaty meals to its actors. Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Lena Headey, Emilia Clarke, Kit Harrington, and Peter Dinklage all crafted towering and yet somehow subtle performances – work so impressive, in fact, that many have had trouble escaping the enduring legacy of the characters they spent eight seasons playing. For all the white walker combat, for all the dragon drama, for all the justified complaints about sexual violence and lack of character development in its later seasons, “Game of Thrones” was ultimately a shattering, classically-minded rumination on power: the cost of achieving and maintaining it, and the fallout that occurs when one’s reason is corroded by it. – NL