Top 10 Shows of the Year

So it's time for a Top 10 List, no? We'll start with television--still too many albums to listen to and movies to see. It's been a bit of a disappointing year for TV; the writers' strike crippled many shows in their first season and kind of stuck a fork in all the network's pilots. No first-season shows have really impressed me this year although I'll admit that I haven't given The Mentalist a serious look. Maybe it'll surprise me. I'll also own up to the fact that I haven't seen season 5 of The Wire, this year's installment. Otherwise, it would have likely hovered near the top of this list. Same goes for The Shield and Dexter and probably several others. (And, of course, I can't include the show I work on...that's a conflict of interest!) So, keeping all that in mind, here's my breakdown of the year's best television...

King of the Hill
Hank Hill has many values, but it’s no doubt consistency hovers near the top of the list. Even in its twelfth—and final?—season, King of the Hill has steadfastly mined humor from its well-drawn characters (no pun intended) and social commentary that’s winking more than stinging. The Hills are the truest modern American family on television—shut up, over there, Brothers and Sisters—and easily the funniest.

Survivor/Amazing Race
These lynchpins of CBS Reality provide an incredibly high number of nail-biting moments each season. Survivor is still the gold standard in social experiments for public consumption; the petri dish relationships and power plays are gripping television, especially as hosted by the underappreciated Jeff Probst. Going from island to globe, Amazing Race is a ride-along experience that provides both culture shock, culture awe, and couples bickering about how to paint a Cambodian taxi cart. Both could juice up their casting departments, but they never let you stray from the edge of your seat.

Greek
While everyone at ABC Family was giddily watching the numbers for Secret Life of an American Teenager, Greek coolly and confidently became one of the smartest teen shows of the past decade. Subversive and sarcastic, the show has surprising bite; the dialogue here challenges any of the funniest on television. Greek is also never afraid to tackle real issues—college debt, STDs, entry-level jobs, etc.—with soberness and laughs.

Weeds
I feel like I’m one of the few left championing this risk-taking half-hour but maybe that’s because it barely identifies as a comedy anymore. All the better, to be honest. The move to the Mexican border brought more charged danger into Nancy’s work while her parental neglect brought danger into the home. Severe consequences exploded weekly—sometimes literally so—as Nancy struggled to justify her actions. It felt like 13 short films rather than 13 episodes of a comedy…and I mean that as a high compliment.

So You Think You Can Dance
In most cases, the concept of a reality competition show is less important than the actual talent level of the competitors. SYTYCD featured unparalleled talent this year, dancers that, yes, brought a surprising level of art and craft to the small screen. A new crew of choreographers helped inject the show with a new energy and Cat Deely seemed to be having more infectious fun every week. For proof of the measure of talent, click here, here and here.

Breaking Bad
Less television and more a bizarre blend of auteur-led cinema and Albee-esque theatre, Breaking Bad seems like P.T. Anderson’s foray into basic cable. But it’s Vince Gilligan whose keen eye and ear lead this beautifully-shot series about a terminally ill chemistry teacher (Bryan Cranston, deserved Emmy winner) who cooks meth so that he can leave his family a bundle of cash when he dies. The individual scenes are long and emotionally hefty; Breaking Bad somehow balances sentiment and subtlety with ease.

Lost
I was never going to give up on it, but somewhere in the third season I just come to expect less from the once-dynamic show. But the creative energy generated by the third season finale carried over to season 4, and the island drama regained nearly all of its glory. With a new focus on the characters, we cared once again about the castaways (and the Others, and the Shipmates, etc.) and the plot twists felt more organic and less like shock tactics. The flash-forwards rewarded obedient viewers while wooing the interest of the un-converted. Talk about a resurgence.

30 Rock
Not that Tina Fey needs my attention anymore. 30 Rock has maintained its eccentric charm, still spinning one-liners and crazy scenarios with freshness that never feels “hip.” The end of the second season and the guest-star-heavy chunk of the third season have shown that the funny is mined from the honesty; Liz Lemon and Jack Donaghey’s lives bear the scars of modern sacrifices. But I’m underselling it: it’s, inarguably, the funniest show on television.

Friday Night Lights
The second season may have been clipped, but let’s say that’s a good thing. Between the silly murder plot and that really aggravating live-in nurse at the Saracens’ residence, FNL needed a breather before it put its cleats back on. And now, in its stellar third season, FNL has fully recovered. The show has done two farewell episodes for major characters that rank among the best farewells episodes I’ve ever seen. Meanwhile, the show has introduced new characters—that I was ready to hate, by the way—that are so much more complex and damaged than they initially let on that I found myself rooting for them. And then there are the several small, intimate moments that have come to define the show and the wholly real marriage between Coach and Tami. Don’t let yourself ignore this deep look into the rocky American heartland.

Mad Men
I once said—with no trace of irony—that I could write scores of essays on this series. My friend laughed at me, but only because she knew how true it was. Mad Men is so “cool” it’s cliché now; I fear the show’s obsessive style will be its ultimate legacy rather than the majestic storytelling from Matthew Weiner and his team. This is, bar none, the best narrative about American life since Raymond Carver’s short stories. So rich with metaphor and literary (and psychological) foreshadowing, the show can be watched multiple times and there will still be lovely moments that can go unappreciated. In the second season, the show has become, miraculously, even stronger: every character is trying to reconcile the person they are with the person they advertise themselves as. Rich theme for a show set in an ad agency. Don Draper approaches it quite literally; he battles the many archetypes he feels destined to fulfill—veteran, Lothario, Ken Doll—while “scratching around, never feeling comfortable” in any of them. My personal favorite is Elisabeth Moss’s Peggy, a woman who, against all precedents, is valued for her mind, but still feels that to be understood, she has to be either Marilyn or Jackie O. As we all try to craft our identities in a modern, consumer-driven culture where we can very specifically edit and design how we’re seen and perceived, Mad Men is more cutting and relevant than ever.