And yes, consider this my official apology to NBC. I still think you suck, but considering how many of your programs made (or almost made) my list, I can't deny your commitment to (occasional) smart programming. Unless, like Southland, you just cancel it without even airing a season 2 episode. Oh wait... hate is washing back over me... yep, sorry, apology rescinded.
Here are my Top 10 Shows of the Year:
NURSE JACKIEEverything that led me to believe Nurse Jackie wouldn't work are the exact things that made it resonate so well. The pill addiction? We've seen it on House and yet Jackie's substance abuse is far more harrowing and sincere because it's an effect of her damaged psyche rather than the cause. The twist at the end of the pilot is a steal from Mad Men's, but it set up a great season-one arc about Jackie's dual personas. And although they eventually abandoned it, Jackie's voiceover narration was raw and occasionally poetic. Jackie is about broken spirits tending to broken bodies and its charms got stronger as its first season played out.
30 ROCKIt feels as though, lately, 30 Rock is trying to break the joke-a-minute record which can occasionally result in a too-frantic pace. Ultimately though, 30 Rock is consistently one of the most inventive and amusing comedies on television. Layering visual jokes upon verbal jokes upon great characterizations upon random zaniness, 30 Rock benefits from repeat viewings (and friendly re-quoting). Tina Fey's frazzled Liz Lemon still feels like our generational representative; she's frustrated and awkward but her creativity is like "a bird, like a friendly bird that embraces all ideas and shoots out of its eyes all kinds of beauty." And Alec Baldwin as her eye-rolling, straight man foil, works wonders with every inflection of his voice.
LOSTIndisputably iconic, Lost may go down as the most influential show of this decade. Its fifth season won't do anything to curb that reputation; sprawling, twisting, and incredibly ambitious, the out-of-time island-dwellers dealt with lofty ideas at every turn. The newer characters--the freighter folk if you will--energized the show by complicating and enriching its mythology and adding humor and subtlety that our original castaways were lacking (since so many of them have died off). Others may have groaned, but I loved the "Lost... in Time!" adventuring of the first few episodes. After all, isn't the character whose back story we find most curious that of the island itself? A fantastic season, although points off for the utterly painful "Some Like it Hoth" episode.
MODERN FAMILYWhat a difference a laugh track makes. I read the pilot for Modern Family in January and thought, based, on the format, it was going to be a multi-camera comedy with fake sets and audience-pandering. Then the show aired. Here's a sitcom that wears its heart next to its laugh-out-loud wit. And it mines humor not from cynicism and cultural references, but from characters who are genuinely funny people and family dyanmics that are hilarious in their relatability. The whole ensemble, too, is so good, it's hard to nail down one breakout star. After wondering "Why the Face?" about so many lame attempts in the past, it's nice to be reminded that the family sitcom can still be great.
BIG LOVEThe Henricksons suffered a lot this season--fourth wife blues, bad investments, miscarriages, deaths, kidnapping, excommunication from the Mormon church--and it all fueled superlative drama. Not unlike Weeds, the leader of this brood (Bill Paxton) consistently makes horrifically bad decisions, justifying each one by how it will be "good for his family." Bill, however, can't see through his own selfishness to his hurting wives (all three give Emmy-worthy performances, especially Jeanne Triplehorn) and disaffected children (including an arresting Amanda Seyfried, a girl who disagrees with everything her parents stand for but can't figure out how to properly rebel). The bonds between home and the compound only intensified this season and considering how many fascinating characters reside in Juniper Creek, I hope they only grow stronger next season.
TOP CHEFIs there a reality show produced with as much style as Top Chef? Masterfully put together, the show bears the sheen of true professionalism. This season, its best by far, showed the same professional skills from its contestants. By adding truly outstanding chefs to the cast this year--including an Eric Riepert mentee and a James Beard finalist--every challenge made for incredible television. We were watching artists prepare their works. The challenges, by the way, were inventive and dramatic (very few involved any kind of catering) and the judging was sharp. Padma Lakshmi has eased into the hosting gig well, especially when her counterpart, Angry Padma, takes the reins.
PARKS AND RECREATIONI actually loved the first season of this Amy Poehler comedy, created by Greg Daniels and Michael Schur. Although it's inevitably compared to their work on The Office, it instantly reminded me of Daniels' work on King of the Hill: going for as many smiles as laughs with characters that are genuine--so genuine, they border on completely naive. The second season, though, has been week after week of hilarious dilemmas, all played out (in Office-style mockumenary-ism) by a far-ranging comic cast with excellent timing. P&R consistently gives me characters to invest in and root for, and that's all I can ask from a comedy. Well, that and lots and lots of laughs. But P&R provides that just as consistently.
MAD MENGood Lord, I could discuss Mad Men's symbolism for dayyyys. (Is there a name for people like me? Those of us who dissect every shot of this show, wringing out its meaning? Adholes, maybe?) Granted, it was a season that was maybe a little too obsessed with its own symbolism, and the pace certainly suffered for it. (Also, as a huge Peggy Olson fan, it was hard to watch her relegated to the sidelines for most of the season.) But it's hard to imagine another show that has the boldness to tell its stories with such nuance, to craft its characters with so many flaws but to avoid making them antiheroes. Mad Men routinely exhibits a fine balance in its storytelling, much like the show's central theme: the balance between who you are (the product) and who you want people to see (the advertisement). I'm such an Adhole.
FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTSI don't like to think about how I live in a world where Kyle Chandler and Connie Britton are Emmyless. Oh well. At least I live in a world where a show about high school football--something in which I normally would have zero interest--blows me away every week with its rich, emotional writing and the best acting on television, bar none. It's one of the few shows that can continually introduce new characters (The McCoys! Vince Howard! Luke Cafferty!) and not make me resent them for disrupting the comfortable nature of the show. Rather, it quickly displays the complicated lives of each character, treating each character with more humanity than any other show on network television. The division of Dillon has raised some questions (um, where were all these struggling teens with drug-addled parents when there was just one high school in town?) but it's perpetuated truly moving drama with ethical dilemmas, forcing characters to take a stand (you go, Buddy Garity!). And Matt Saracen, we're all here for you, buddy.
BREAKING BADUpfront: there's very little joy in watching Breaking Bad, the chronicles of Walter White's startling downward spiral into, well, evil. When given a fatal cancer diagnosis, Walt begins cooking meth with a former student, Jesse, so that he can leave his family a nest egg. In season 2, Walt and Jesse also delve into distribution and while there's a dark humor in their antics, there's a deep vulnerable sadness to each of them as well. And never one for convention, Breaking Bad flows from episode to episode in its own unique way, eschewing any kind of traditional structure for bold, occasionally bizarre (in a Lynchian way) displays of soul-baring. Bryan Cranston is nothing short of brilliant as a man who plays out his Freudian death wish by delving into his passion for chemistry. He's often forced to reconcile his actions with his love for his family and, even when he comes up empty, he can't stop himself. Aaron Paul and Anna Gunn are incredible, too; both of them are routinely required to perform with great intensity and soft genitility, sometimes within the same scene. Vince Gilligan's opus is sad, frustrating, and quite dark, but it's the most powerful show of the year.
