It's time to rank TV shows again. After completing this exercise, one thing is clear: This list is quite different from previous years. Some of this change is inherent to the medium: 7 entries from last year's list ended their runs while 5 others took the year (or more) off. However, the more significant change is the transition from the "Golden Age" to the
age of comedy (or at least, the age of the half-hour show that vaguely resembles a comedy). The former standard-bearing format (prestige, hour-long dramas) takes up just 6 of the 25 slots on the list, and not a single one of those comes from pay cable. Furthermore, the range in tone, subject matter, vision of the creators, and senses of humor show how the new preferred format is likely more versatile than it's bulkier predecessor. So while 2016 may be less
obviously a great collection of TV than years past, in it's own way, it might actually be better.
As usual, I'll run down everything that didn't make the list before getting to the countdown itself. I grouped and ranked the shows in the countdown as best as I could, but if one show is two spots higher than another, don't take that to mean that much. Outside of a couple of clear drop-offs and groupings*, it was
really hard to order everything in a manner that didn't cause great internal strife. And yes, the write-ups contain a few spoilers here and there, although 1) I think the concept of spoilers is generally overrated and 2) I avoid the most important ones.
*
If you're curious, those groupings are 1-8, 9-12, 13-21, and 22-30.
FINE, BUT FLAWED
Togetherness solidified itself as "White Privilege: The Series" in its second season. There was still some occasional near-greatness when the characters behaved like real people, but the show tripped over some odd story choices (charter schools? really?) far too often.
Brooklyn 99 and
Fresh Off the Boat continued to be funny shows, but I had to cut something when Elliott was born, so these shows said bye.
Inside Amy Schumer was still pretty good, but there's a ceiling with sketch comedy for me, and this show isn't quite there.
Angie Tribeca aired its first two seasons this year: I liked the supremely goofy first and was lukewarm on the more restrained second.
Another Period continued to be a worthy farce in its sophomore campaign.
Archer is still a perfectly cromulent television show.
Children's Hospital went out on a high note. I will miss Just Falcon. Hey,
Top Chef's in Charleston this year...cool.
The second season of
Unreal still had its moments, but man, was it a mess.
Bosch was a good companion to late-night baby time, telling a noir-like crime story without a ton of depth.
Shameless finally went off the rails in its sixth season, which is honestly not bad for a Showtime series.
Hap and Leonard was solid pulp for the middle of its run, but started with a terrible pilot and ended on an unearned note.
Orphan Black cut out the clutter at the end of its third season only to mess it back up in the fourth. Oh well....we'll always have that glorious first season.
The Night Of had a nice little pilot that devolved into a confused show where the character's actions made little to no sense.
Love was occasionally clunky and often hilarious. I guess "accidental spy" is now a genre unto itself, but
The Night Manager and
London Spy failed to live up to the greatness of last year's
Deutschland 83. And finally,
Westworld was most certainly a television program.
PRETTY DARN GOOD
New Girl could have easily trailed off into self-parody in its later seasons (and it has at times, to be sure). However, the introduction of Megan Fox's Regan as well as Cece and Schmidt's wedding helped focus the show and make it into a worthwhile late-stage sitcom.
It's Always Sunny also continued to benefit from a late-stage revival, with the shorter seasons leading to less time to simply rehash old jokes.
The Good Place gained steam over the first part of its run and shows a lot of promise as a weird conceptual comedy. Speaking of weird comedies,
Last Man on Earth continued to absolutely nail the big moments while being pleasant enough the rest of the time.
Insecure was oftentimes slight, but did a nice job of creating real emotion within its relaxed confines.
Bob's Burgers is still delightful and worth your time.
Stranger Things was a pleasant surprise this summer. The plot complications of the finale make me worry that subsequent seasons will be messier (a la
Orphan Black or
The Returned), but we shall see.
Banshee had a lot of issues in its final season, but was still the show we know and love when it stuck to its strengths.
Baskets was supremely weird in mostly a good way.
Mr. Robot was too obsessed with plot twists and the big picture, but was still command viewing in a lot of ways (the performances, the direction, and the uniqueness of the subject matter). For all its faults,
Vice Principals was one of the only shows that dug into the psyche of the white, working-class male, which seems sorta relevant.
Black Mirror lost a little bit of the "so what" in its transition to Netflix. Every episode was gripping, but most of them didn't leave me thinking about much afterwards. The better installments (ie. San Junipero*) still resonated on a deeper level, so it's definitely worth checking out. Finally,
Game of Thrones' sixth season was a mixed bag. Yes, it was far more optimistic (and less sadistic) at points, but that optimism sometimes came at the cost of a convincing story. I will say that if the sixth season was just the first twenty minutes of the finale, then it would rank MUCH higher.
*
I could make a reallly long episode of the year list, but let's cull it to five:
5. "A House Divided" - Rectify
4. "San Junipero" - Black Mirror
3. "Separation" - The Girlfriend Experience
2. "That's Too Much, Man" - BoJack Horseman
1. "Nailed" - Better Call Saul
RUNNERS-UP
I could have pretty easily extended this list to thirty this year, but let's not do that. Here's the five that came up just a little bit short. The second season of
American Crime did something special: It let its characters be spectacularly wrong at times while still treating them like normal, good people. Too often, even the best dramas paint characters as good or bad, and their actions and deeds flow through that understanding. But truly understanding characters (and people) means that things are going to get messier than that, and we have to be prepared to embrace that (See
this article -
American Crime was one of the first things I thought of when reading it, even though it doesn't fit the theme perfectly).
Broad City continued to be hilarious, but maybe just slightly less essential than before, which is enough to knock it off a crowded list. Same with
You're the Worst, which tied together a lot of great moments with some questionable plot mechanics and a little inconsistency with characterization. Also hilarious was
Lady Dynamite, which mostly pulled off its ambitious structure through sheer exuberance. Finally, we have the criminally under-watched
Halt and Catch Fire. The third season was the best use of the show's strengths (brooding characterization, moving through plot rapid-fire), and set everything up for what should be a devastating final season.
THE LIST
#25 - Search Party (TBS)
I had an annoyingly persistent sickness over Thanksgiving week, and as sickness often does, it made me temporarily more self-absorbed than usual. So what better way to spend the time on the couch than by watching a show about self-absorbed people trying to fill a void in their lives by looking for a missing woman. To be clear, the group of friends that ends up searching for the wonderfully-named Chantal Witherbottom aren't "bad people" per se. But the imperfections that keep them from being the people they want to be largely stem from young people's (often necessary) desire to figure everything out as quickly as possible, which made for a thematic depth I wasn't expecting. Add in a labyrinthine plot that ties things up better than you think it will, and you have yourself one of the most enjoyable binges of the year.
#24 - Catastrophe (Amazon)
Other comedies on this list may inspire more words of praise and analysis, but I don't think any create quite as many laughs. Sure, we can discuss how
Catastrophe's honesty and pared-down season length serve it well. But in the end, there's nothing like a comedy where the leads share perfect chemistry and the (amazingly crass) jokes always land.
#23 - Veep (HBO)
Losing a show-runner? Adding more people to an already loaded cast? Having the story play out (mostly) in the way that was telegraphed in last season's finale? These potential issues and others would sink a lesser series. For
Veep, they were merely minor huddles on the way to a fifth season that was as sharp as ever. If I had to pick one highlight, Jonah's campaign for Congress is it, but pretty much everything the show does is
great. Selina Meyer for Queen of Westeros.
#22 - Silicon Valley (HBO)
The election dominated headlines this year, but stories related to the actual Silicon Valley inspired just about as much passion. Whether it was Peter Thiel using his fortune to manipulate our judicial system to his will, Elon Musk's crazy and/or brilliant space dreams, or Apple's war on the headphone jack, people clearly hold strong opinions on an area of their lives that is increasingly indispensable. In this light, it only stands to reason that the necessary pairing to
Veep's skewering of our political landscape is
Silicon Valley's commentary on the tech world. While the former show tends towards a more misanthropic worldview,
Silicon Valley offers the trademark Mike Judge ray of optimism amidst an environment that should inspire anything but. Sure, many of those in power are focused with the bottom dollar and/or their egos. But the plot machinations of season three show how these orientations can still align with the common good, even if the path is less than perfect.
#21 - Better Things (FX)
Better Things (created by longtime Louis CK collaborator Pamela Adlon) is fascinating because of how it stands out from the crowd of
Louie descendants. Specifically, it's great at using some parts of the
Louie model and discarding others to create a flow of its own. This hazy continuity (characters stay the same, but episodes and storylines don't inherently live on a linear timeline) creates an unassuming rhythm in which the poignancy of the moment sneaks up on you. There are no framing devices that indicate that a moment in real life will be important, and it's generally not until after these moments that you truly realize that.
Better Things exists in that authentic but heightened reality that makes for a wonderfully observant series.
#20 - Looking: The Movie (HBO)
I'm fully comfortable admitting that
Looking isn't an unimpeachably great work of art. Metacritic was
lukewarm on it. My wife said the movie was "OK." And the show didn't have enough support to avoid cancellation after two seasons and a movie. But boy, is it ever my jam. There's a lived-in and intimate feeling to every scene that not only makes everything feel real, but also allows the larger themes of the nature of honesty and friendship to resonate. This breezy nature also allows for a more deft brand of characterization that pairs well with the ever-improving acting chops of the leads (most notably Jonathan Groff - now of
Hamilton fame - the way his eyes and face simultaneously support and betray his words and actions is a thing of beauty). The movie itself was not the finest installment of the program, as some of the storylines could have used a little more room to breathe. Still, like a rushed reunion with old friends, it was a pleasant excursion and a fine end to a great show.
#19 - One Mississippi (Amazon)
If
One Mississippi was just a rumination on Tig Notaro's life punctuated by moments of absurdity, it would still have a strong case for making this list. But what earns this spot is the way the show examines the continued existence of one's family and home in light of tragedy. I am usually drawn towards stories involving lovers, friends, or other acquaintances, as I perceive those relationships to inherently depend on the choice of all parties involved (which then leads to the all-important drama in a drama).
One Mississippi shows this to be a false dichotomy: While one can't choose their family, they can choose how much of their life to share with them. In examining Tig's discoveries about her mother or finding a way forward with a father-in-law,
One Mississippi speaks to these truths in a manner both personal and universal.
#18 - Happy Valley (Netflix)
That the second season of
Happy Valley remained a combination of gripping crime story and touching drama was no surprise. The story of Catherine Cawood, her family, and her town is as vital as ever, packing depth and even occasional joy into what could be a murky, rote affair. What did surprise me is how the continuation of the plot of the first season didn't just avoid self-parody, but actively made the story even more worth the time. The permanence of not just Tommy Lee Royce, but crime in general, drives the fatalistic atmosphere of the show. Many shows force this type of ethos into the proceedings;
Happy Valley is the show that succeeds at this almost effortlessly.
#17 - Orange is the New Black (Netflix)
Why was the fourth season of
OITNB its best? I could go into depth talking about the sharp commentary on current events, the increasingly deft character work, or the improving mastery of the balance between the show's weightier themes and comic relief.* But I don't need to when I can sum it up in one sentence: This season absolutely flew by.
OITNB may be more well-regarded than most of its Netflix brethren, but previous seasons still fell victim to the slog-ish tendencies of
modern TV. There were still moments in this season that felt padded or un-needed (the flashback structure that was vital to earlier season was extremely hit-or-miss this year). But overall,
OITNB appeared to reach it's inflection point: The amount and quality of character and world-building enriched the story without yet approaching any sense of staleness. We know the inmates of Litchfield and we know the forces, internal and external, that lead to their continued imprisonment. Add in the propulsive and compelling story-telling of the fourth season, and you have yourself a prime example of what drama should be in the age of Peak TV.
*
This is a weird sounding statement, but OITNB
is the closest analogue to Deadwood
in modern TV, in both its strengths and its flaws.
#16 - Fleabag (Amazon)
I can't imagine a better balance between the profane and the profound than the joy that is
Fleabag. After all, the six-episode run begins with an extended anal sex joke and ends with a tearful confession, with constant overlap between the two motifs making up the interim. Not only does this combination work, it's absolutely appropriate, given that the main source of anguish for the eponymous character stems from her sex life. Furthermore, the uniqueness of the floating first-to-third-to-first person narration only helps to serve this dichotomy - one moment, we're in on the joke, the next we're not and there is no joke in the first place.
Fleabag may seem like just another enjoyable, slight take on life, but it's anything but.
#15 - Girls (HBO)
Fittingly, given the characters that occupy the show, it's been an strange journey for
Girls. While the show was roundly praised at first, the past couple seasons had rightfully slipped from the good graces of critics and viewers alike. Not only had the tip-toeing between drama and satire been displaced*, but the ever-diverging world of the main characters had created a frenetic need to keep up with everyone all the time, which stretched most storylines a little thin. The fifth season fixed a lot of this with a
more episodic focus that let the plot lines breathe a bit. Near-solo episodes like "Japan" (Shosh) and "The Panic in Central Park" (Marnie) gave us focused statements on those characters, while the highlight of the season "Hello Kitty" showed how the ensemble can still be a meaningful whole. The travails of Hannah Horvath and Co. will never be for everyone, but I'm guessing that's exactly what the show wants.
*Rule of thumb: Girls
is best when the drama/satire ratio is about 75/25 or 25/75. If an episode is too extreme in one direction or muddled in between, it loses its way. But if it leans one way while still winking towards the other direction, that's what the show does best.
#14 - BoJack Horseman (Netflix)
Last year, I praised
BoJack for being so many different things at once, and doing all of those things well. Those plaudits still apply to the fantastic if slightly lesser third season, but what some of the
zanier moments made me realize is how those different aspects of the show play off each other to make it a richer experience. In simpler terms, the show's unabashed silliness gives the dramatic moments added heft. Sure, things like BoJack's realization that he let Kelsey down or the tragedy at the end of his drug and alcohol-fueled binge are going to be powerful no matter what. But when they come on the heels of chasing a baby seahorse through a factory and a comical series of blackouts, the dissonance makes the hurt feel more real. After all, life is often just a series of tonally imbalanced events...why shouldn't our best art reflect that?
#13 - High Maintenance (HBO)
With as much media as I consume, it's surprising that I've watched very few web series. It's not a matter of snobbery; Rather, it's a reflection of my reaction to the saturated state of every area of entertainment. Instead of consuming a moderate bit of everything, I choose to go hard into a few things that I most like. This means that I approached
High Maintenance not as a continuation of what it was (a long-running web series about a weed dealer and the people he encounters), but as a separate entity. And while I am sure there are a few subtleties I missed without the full background, the six-episode run on HBO largely worked as something substantial that stands on its own. It's been beaten to death that a show like this has "the city" as the main character, but when the true diversity of humanity (and dogs) is portrayed as fully and deftly as it is in
High Maintenance, I'll gladly let the cliché ride.
#12 - Last Week Tonight (HBO)
Last Week Tonight is still one of the most indispensable half hours of any given week. So why the tumble down my list when compared to previous seasons? Aside the natural affinity for the shiny new shows taking its place, the focus on the election took the show away from what it did best: Championing under-reported issues.* Sure, Oliver and his staff are as good at the political side of things as anyone, but by the time Sunday night rolls around we already know all the beats of what happened the previous week, thanks to Twitter and the 24-hour news cycle. And getting a 20-minute summary of that in Oliver's standard info-joke-info-joke format just wasn't as necessary as other things he's done. Hopefully the next three presidential election-free years get us back to peak-level
Last Week Tonight. We'll certainly need it.
*To be fair, there were still a lot of these, most notably episodes on Puerto Rico's governmental crisis and medical debt issues
#11 - The Americans (FX)
The common refrain from the critical set is that the fourth season of
The Americans was its
best yet. I may disagree with that sentiment (despite my occasional misgivings, this show has been on point ever since the beginning, so picking a best season is
hard), but it's undeniable that the dramatic stakes of the series are at an all-time high. This escalation is obvious on the typical dramatic level, as many key players were eliminated through death or other means. But what separates
The Americans from most other shows is that the most important stakes are much smaller and more personal.* Between the internal family strife and the increasing doubt in the primacy of their mission, we've arrived at the point of no return for Philip and Elizabeth. The decision they're left with in the closing moments of the season will determine the direction of the final two seasons, and it's a testament to the ambiguity present in the show that we have no idea where everything goes from here.
*
In all fairness, this is the only way The Americans
could succeed as a truly gripping drama. We know how the Cold War turns out, but we don't know what will happen to Philip and Elizabeth.
#10 - Transparent (Amazon)
The first two seasons of
Transparent are near perfect units of television, drawing on moments both subtle and not subtle to show the Pfeffermans' slow journeys towards self-actualization. So my initial reaction to feeling a little colder towards the third season was to assume that the show had lost the plot. Upon further reflection, that largely doesn't seem to be the case, as most characters had an easy-to-summarize and worthwhile path (Josh continued to look for connection wherever he could find it, Maura attempts to transition, etc...). Rather, I think my mild disappointment stems from a number of small things; Perhaps the characters journeys were less formed or as important to the big picture (looking at you, Ali). Maybe this season's "special" episodes ("Elizah" and "If I Were a Bell") didn't amaze or cover new ground as much as previous ones. Or it could be that adding Kathryn Hahn's Raquel as a series regular jammed a little too much into a relatively small space. Whatever the reason(s), I should probably stop complaining now as
Transparent remains one of the most compelling things on TV. Its ability to tell humanizing stories about obviously flawed people remains a triumph and should be appreciated as such.
#9 - Full Frontal (TBS)
In the aftermath of the election, it's easy (and right) to feel angry. Luckily, thanks to Samantha Bee's venture into late night hosting, that anger has a prominent voice. And while Sam's passion is often naked and raw, it remained laser-focused on its targets of misogyny and hatred enough to leave a dent. Sure there are
valid criticisms that such shows serve more to make us feel good than promote actual change. But to that, I offer a few counter-arguments: One, it's hard to fight the battle without feeling at least a little good, and feeling good often comes from knowing there are others that feel the same as you. Two, in this age of fractured media, there are most certainly limits to the effect that any one program can have. We may never again have a common voice of reason like Edward R. Murrow, but if we do the best with what we have, America can still find a way forward. Third and finally, if you think the show is simply feel-good time, you
haven't been watching.
#8 - O.J.: Made in America (ESPN)
Made in America is nothing short of a triumph of the documentary form. The inclusiveness of its impossibly wide scope, the propulsive nature of its storytelling, and the mastery of the subject matter all make for a work that will be rightfully showered with every award. That said, its greatest strength (and what truly sets it apart) is its command of the variety of ways in which it communicates its message. The wide-ranging and fascinating testimonies would be sufficient to tell a rich tale on their own, but the way scenes are intercut to show inconsistencies and fallacies (aka bullshit) or demonstrate a larger point is amazing.
The most important example of this is how the show spends a whole episode (the second one) foreshadowing the path the trial would take, by contrasting the civil rights struggle specific to LA with the near-constant domestic violence that OJ perpetuated on Nicole Brown. The documentary clearly shows that communal support for African Americans played a role in the acquittal, while OJ's brutality got swept under the rug. The beauty of
Made in America is that it doesn't necessarily suggest that everyone involved was inherently wrong in doing so - the injustices against African Americans are far too prominent in the show to be dismissed. Rather the tragic happenstance is that we ended up with the
worst possible guy to get the benefit of the prevailing winds. My hope is that, of all the messages
Made in America put forth, the importance of fighting domestic violence head-on is the one committed to our collective memory.
#7 - American Crime Story: The People v. OJ Simpson (FX)
Ryan Murphy's foray into true crime storytelling may have been overshadowed at times by the previous entry on this list, but make no mistake :
ACS was a terrific and important work that demonstrates the power of a well-conceived drama. While a straight documentary gets the benefit of hard facts and testimonials from actual people, drama allows the viewer to, in a way, participate in the action. This trade-off (between empathy for documentary subjects and our own experience with the dramatic form) can be difficult to navigate, but
ACS had no problem doing so. And while success in that regard usually involves paring down the complexity of reality to fit into ten or so hours,
ACS did no such thing, taking time to view the events of the OJ trial through every possible prism. More than anything,
ACS focuses on how each player's flaws and shortcomings contributed to one of the most ridiculous chapters in recent American history. Add in the amazing performances from, among others
Sarah Paulson, and you have yourself one of the most fully-realized visions of the year.
#6 - Atlanta (FX)
It's a testament to the richness of
Atlanta that I find myself unable to write a cohesive paragraph worthy of reflecting what the show achieved in it's first season. Did it create memorable characters that were paired perfectly with the actors portraying them? Yes. Did its central story show the ludicrousness of idea of The American Dream to those who haven't realized it in their lives? Most certainly. Was it, in its own very specific way, one of the most randomly hilarious and absurd shows? Absolutely. So how does this all come together to make one of the things I loved the most about 2016? I'm not ashamed to admit that I have no idea. If forced to guess, it's Donald Glover's performance as Earn that's the key. His combination of weariness, perseverance, and sly humor is not just the backbone of the show, but also the pallet upon which everything else rests.
#5 - Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (Netflix)
The second season of
Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt was exactly as unique, warm, and funny as the first. So why the leap up the list? From a formal perspective, the show warmed up to it's Netflix-ian lack of boundaries by having each episode last exactly as long as it needed to be. Normally, I quiver at the
thought of bloat, but
Kimmy had detailed enough stories and gags to easily justify it. More than just this though, the show improved by focusing on the characters moving forward with their lives. The first season got slightly mired down in dealing with past trauma, which made for a slightly odd tonal balance. While I would agree that all was necessary, the far more rewarding experience has been seeing Kimmy begin to flourish, Jacqueline moving on from her marriage, and Titus falling in love. Ultimately, the best comedy exists at least in part to produce hope and joy, and there is no show better at that than
Kimmy.
#4 - Horace and Pete (louisck.net)
Horace and Pete - Louis CK's surprise stage-like comedy/drama - executes an amazing balancing act between despair and hope. One on hand, the specter of death is ever present: Photos of dead relatives adorn the walls of the titular bar and virtually every character is dealing with some form of depression or other mental disorder. On the other hand, the show is primarily concerned with what you do while you're living, by spending lengthy periods of time illuminating seemingly mundane conversations. Because of this contrast, the show appears to take the position that true dramatic stakes come not from how and when one's life ends, but from how one lives their live, no matter how small and intimate the situation. In a post-
24 reality where the world is
seemingly always hanging in the balance, this is a minor miracle. But at the same time, this is exactly the drama that is most cogent in our lives. The relatively small stakes of everyday life don't contribute to our death, but rather imbue life with meaning and influence that which we left behind. A conversation about infidelity with an ex-wife. A morning-after chat about transgender identity and its importance. An impromptu job interview with a stranger. Each conversation pulls us towards the light or pushes us to darkness. This is what
Horace and Pete is about, and that's what makes it one of the most vital works of the year.
#3 - Rectify (Sundance)
"I hope your life is filled with wonder" - Tawney
Perhaps the most important trait a show can have is efficiency and purpose in its plotting and storytelling. For the last three seasons
Rectify has flown in the face of this, creating a compelling and moving drama while rarely prioritizing any of the conventional storylines that such a narrative suggests. So how did
Rectify handle the inherent need for some sort of conclusiveness in it's last season? Pretty damn well. As I would have guessed, the fate of Daniel's legal status is still in limbo, but of course that's not what's important in the
Rectify universe. Rather, the final season took great care to show just how far each of the characters have come personally, emotionally, and spiritually. And most importantly we saw the power and persistence of hope and how it allows the Holdens (and others) to move forward from their collective grief, even though they can't - As Amantha puts it - rectify the past. We may not know precisely how the story of the Holden's ends but we intimately know the story of Daniel's release and the healing upheaval that came with it. That's enough to make
Rectify one of the best dramas ever.
#2 - The Girlfriend Experience (Starz)
The Girlfriend Experience has all the ingredients that make up a great drama: the most ruthlessly efficient storytelling this side of
Transparent, the desire to dive into complex questions of ethics and morality, and a commanding performance from Riley Keough. But what makes the show truly unique is its foremost commitment to ambiguity*, so much so that it becomes a virtual mirror for the audience. Whereas most shows explicitly punish their conception of wrongdoing (or at least handhold the viewer to some degree),
The Girlfriend Experience almost goes out of its way to avoid doing so. Is there something wrong with Christine? Does she regret the path she's gone down? Or is she a perfect example of modern empowerment and female sexuality? The only answer you'll ever find lies within you, which makes this one of the most inherently though-provoking shows of the year.
*Take Christine's lack of friends: On the surface this is a character-building trait, but from a practical standpoint it allows her to rarely have to explain herself to anyone.
#1 - Better Call Saul (AMC)
Vince Gilligan's Albuquerque universe is beloved for its mastery of virtually everything that makes a drama great. And to be clear, I love it for every one of those reasons. But if I had to pick one superlative thing about the second season of
Better Call Saul, it would be its clarity. I don't mean moral clarity, as the show has always succeeded at reveling in the shades of grey between good and evil. Rather, this clarity is the show's ability to elegantly communicate the reasons behind its character's actions without resulting to spelling everything out. Essentially,
Better Call Saul is better than just about everything else at following the maxim of "show don't tell," which is astounding considering that the majority of the show consists of conversation. For one example of this, see the best episode of television this year, the penultimate installment "Nailed": Chuck's realization, Kim's rebuke of Chuck, Jimmy's indecision outside of the copy shop. These are all moments informed by the events leading up to them, the precise characterizations of the participants, and the way the camera lingers just enough to let the audience put two and two together on their own. This "interactive" experience gives
Better Call Saul a richness that can't be matched by anything else this year.
