The 20 best TV shows of 2022 (so far)

has always been a beacon of satire, tackling millennial culture and the zeitgeist, poking fun at courtroom dramas, Instagram influencers, and our true-crime obsession, among other targets. So it’s not surprising that the comedy’s ultimate chapter goes all out in a genre-bending final season. Dory Sief’s (Alia Shawkat) quest to spread peace in the world through an enlightenment pill actually has devastating, doomsday-like consequences. It’s a big swing for any show to pull off. Yet Search Party not only has fun with its zombie apocalypse, but uses the tonal shift to examine the impact of Dory’s unflinching narcissism. Also, Jeff Goldlum’s Elon Musk-esque turn really enhances the viewing experience. [Saloni Gajjar]

When I heard Bridget Everett had scored an HBO show, I figured it would be in the spirit of her gonzo, frenetic, and occasionally downright filthy cabaret performances, which I’ve been lucky enough to catch in person over the years. But , based on Everett’s life and executive produced by the star, isn’t loud or in your face in the slightest (although it does boast scenes of Sam, Everett’s character, coming out of her shell and belting out some choice songs). Instead, it’s a gentle, funny, moving show, set in a sleepy Manhattan (the one in Kansas, not the more famous one where the real-life performer cut her teeth onstage) and centered on a lost fortysomething back in her hometown. In fact, Somebody Somewhere almost feels like a stretched-out indie (which makes sense given that other executive producers include the Duplass brothers), with a pretty adorable yin-yang relationship between Sam and her new bestie (Jeff Hiller), not to mention other solid turns by Murray Hill (another NYC nightlife staple) and the late great Mike Hagerty. [Tim Lowery]

Dan Erickson’s psychological thriller arrived at the opportune moment, perfectly capturing the post-pandemic fear of returning to the office as it goes to the extremes of achieving work/life balance. Centered on four Lumon employees trying to escape their dark fate, the show is a sharp commentary on corporate capitalism. But  takes the concept and smartly turns it into a warped, riveting mystery about what the hell Lumon might be up to. With its stunning set work and award-worthy cast (from breakout star Britt Lower to legends like John Turturro, Patricia Arquette, and Christopher Walken to the show’s anchor, Adam Scott), the series surpasses all expectations for a debut season. It’s got impressive scenes (Milchik’s creepy dance party, anyone?), unexpected romances, and Ben Stiller and Aiofe McArdle’s prolific direction. Severance is the definition of a slow burn that rewards patience with tantalizing suspense and a jaw-dropping finale. [Saloni Gajjar]

Pamela Adlon is one hell of a creative force, as evidenced during ’ entire run and especially in the show’s poetic final season. Adlon directed, starred in, and co-wrote the series, in which she plays Sam Fox, a single mother to three exuberant young girls. In season five, the show is the equivalent of a warm hug, with Sam exploring her family history with the help of genealogy tests, her mother Phil (Celia Imrie), and trips to London. The sendoff season fine tunes the ensemble’s harmonious chemistry (props to Mikey Madison, Hannah Alligood, and Olivia Edward) and boasts a series finale that celebrates Better Things’ joyful contribution to TV: a singularly honest examination of, and a gratifying tribute to, female relationships. [Saloni Gajjar]

There was a collective sigh when Hulu’s limited series based on Elizabeth Holmes’ Theranos scandal was announced. After HBO’s thrilling docuseries, The Inventor, what more could the fictional drama explore? Luckily, infused new blood (sorry, I had to; it was right there) into the saga. Amanda Seyfried’s chilling turn as Holmes is a sight to behold, from her grating voice to the way she carries herself. It’s an all-time great performance that lifts the show even in the rare moments it falters. In the same vein (again, sorry!), Naveen Andrews is terrifying as Elizabeth’s partner, Sunny Balwani. Depicting Holmes’ rise to a top entrepreneur in the healthcare industry with moments of dark comedy and abject horror, The Dropout tries to make sense of how her grift went undetected for years. In a sea of shows about real-life scandals in 2022, The Dropout is a clear standout. [Saloni Gajjar]

Created by David Jenkins, is the surprise pirate smash that’s charting a fresh path for period comedies. Rhys Darby stars as newbie swashbuckler Stede Bonnet, a painfully polite aristocrat who misguidedly sets sail in the 18th century’s Golden Age of Piracy. Praised for its LGBTQ+ representation, the journey for Stede and the crew of the Revenge is as much about identity and friendship as it is about thieving and pillaging. The result is an utterly unique, laugh-out-loud funny situational comedy with a through-line that’s strong enough to keep you hooked across all ten episodes. [Alison Foreman]

Second-wave feminism goes low-brow in the hysterical, thoughtful, delightful . Created by Ellen Rapoport, this ’70s-set comedy follows Joyce (Ophelia Lovibond), an ambitious young woman from Los Angeles who joins forces with a sleazy publisher (Jake Johnson) to start the first women’s erotic magazine. It’s reminiscent of shows like Mad Men because of its setting but boasts a sly freshness that’s unique to Rapoport’s sparkling voice. As smart as it is silly, Minx is in the running for best new series of the year. If it doesn’t quite clinch that title, then its dazzling costumes, writing, and production design offer plenty of other reasons to give it a spin. [Alison Foreman]

Donald Glover’s is a masterclass in storytelling, and season three is no different. There are more standalone episodes this time around and less of a serialized narrative, but even still, Atlanta rarely misses a beat. Look no further than Hiro Murai’s sublimely directed premiere, which features no one from the main cast and tells a hauntingly timely story. With each subsequent outing, season three solidifies the FX comedy as one of the most fascinating, rapturous, experimental shows on TV right now. Brian Tyree Henry and Zazie Beetz are knockouts, adding new depths to Paper Boi and Van in the process. The end of the show is nearly here (next season will be its last), but Atlanta’s legacy is only beginning. [Saloni Gajjar]

Adapting a culturally rich and complex novel like Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko is a tall order. Thankfully, Soo Hugh and her team weave an extraordinary visual journey in the Apple TV+ drama’s first season. The somber and powerful  follows generations of a Korean family as they adjust to economic, geographical, political, and personal changes. Directors Justin Chon and Kogonada transcend the narrative with evocative imagery; even a seemingly simple scene with protagonist Sunja (Minha Kim) making kimchi feels remarkable and oddly tangible. Led by a terrific and expressive cast, especially Kim and Youn Yuh-jung, Pachinko subtly pores over the emotional toll of immigration and displacement, yet it’s joyful in its own ways. Look no further than the opening theme song (possibly the best one of the year so far). [Saloni Gajjar]

The hardest I laughed while watching a new show this year (so far) happened during an episode , when “The Scientist” by Coldplay blasts in Min’s (Dustin Demri-Burns) car as he and the coworker he clearly has a crush on, Louisa (Rosalind Eleazar), careen through the streets of London during a particularly tense moment. (See, his car stereo has his A Rush Of Blood To The Head CD lodged in it, and it plays automatically on repeat, loudly, and has since the album dropped 20 years ago.) It’s admittedly a weird choice. Slow Horses is, of course, a thriller, and a very good thriller at that, and there have been plenty of worthy comedies this year. But the way that heart-on-its-sleeve ballad cut the tension with a burst of absurdity was just… perfect and kind of illustrated how unique this show is. The series, which follows a group of fuck-ups in MI5, branded as the pejorative Slow Horses, has already been renewed through season four. And Gary Oldman, hilarious as the chain-smoking dick of a boss, says this may be his final role. Which is as good a character as any for the famed actor to bow out on, in my humble opinion. Also, let’s have more top-shelf shows with six-episode seasons, please! [Tim Lowery]

Will the second half of season six of live up to the first? Can it? (If you’re not caught up on the show, you may not want to read on.) I’m hopeful, but the run from ​“Wine And Roses” through “Plan And Execution” will be pretty tough to top. Among other things, it boasted two Very Big Deaths, which each unfolded surprisingly (the last moments of that the midseason finale were truly shocking); had some confident direction (co-star Rhea Seehorn’s helming of “Hit And Run” was a standout); and really refined the show’s deceptively leisurely pace, with that enjoyable-until-it-wasn’t plot about sabotaging Howard (Patrick Fabian) becoming far more important than I anticipated. The very end of Breaking Bad felt, let’s face it, a bit too condensed. Hopefully Saul can space out its beats while still keeping us hooked. [Tim Lowery]

It seemed at best improbable that there was another whole season of great TV nested in the premise of Netflix’s . In 2019, creators Leslye Headland, Amy Poehler, and star Natasha Lyonne nailed a pitch-perfect finale for what, at the time, was a limited series. So returning would prove a mistake, right? Wrong. In this nonstop surprising second act for Nadia Vulvokov, the metaphysical fantasy of two New Yorkers—yes, Alan (Charlie Barnett) is back too—continues on a literal voyage barreling through philosophy’s biggest questions. It’s a stunning, successful sophomore outing that sees an already outstanding show stretch its ambition. [Alison Foreman]

First of all: could literally stop your heart with how adorable it is. This coming-of-age rom-com, based on a graphic novel of the same name, will undoubtedly melt your soul. But that’s not why it’s one of the best new TV shows of the year. Rather, it’s because of its well-structured, swiftly paced plot, and the two outstanding lead performances by Kit Connor and Joe Locke. Heartstopper’s radiant spirit easily works as an escape from the real world, but the show succeeds by embracing multiple authentic queer experiences. Nick’s (Connor) coming out journey—from self-acceptance to being honest with his mother about his bisexuality—is balanced with love interest Charlie’s (Locke) confidence in his own identity. Plus, you know it’s a good rom-com when four hours fly by. [Saloni Gajjar]

Bill Hader has done it again. Hitman-turned-thespian-turned-embodiment of human suffering Barry Berkman returned to HBO this spring with eight edge-of-your-seat episodes that saw the already Emmy-winning show hitting new heights. From the stark season opener “forgiving jeff” to the fever-dream-like finale “starting now,” season three consistently upped its game with brilliant storytelling performed by one of the most committed casts in a dark comedy. That each episode was better than the last and that none exceeded 35 minutes is a testament to Hader and series co-creator Alec Berg’s knack for efficient but still resonant character exploration. Season four can’t come soon enough. [Alison Foreman]

If a book or movie or show is only as good as its ending (somebody famous said that, right? Hello? Anybody?), is a really fucking good show. David Simon’s first return to Baltimore’s cops and corners and politicians since the wrap-up of The Wire had its work cut out for it—namely, answering this question that so many people seemed to be asking: How would it capture the scope and genius of The Wire? It wouldn’t—of course it wouldn’t—and, in retrospect, that’s kind of a dumb question. This miniseries wasn’t about trying to paint a full portrait of a complicated city—although, yes, it does paint a portrait, just not one as full, because Simon clearly cares a lot about Baltimore and has ideas on how to improve it—and instead was tightly focused on BPD’s corrupt Gun Trace Task Force and what led to its indictment on racketeering charges in 2017. And it all unfolds quite well, anchored by three standout performances (Jon Bernthal as a very coked-up-seeming sergeant, Wunmi Mosaku as a rightfully indignant attorney, and Jamie Hector as a homicide detective trying to keep things above board), as well as Reinaldo Marcus Green’s very impressive direction. [Tim Lowery]

From some of the talents behind BoJack Horseman, Prime Video’s is unlike any other show I’ve watched. For one thing, it has a unique animated style that combines bursts of highly detailed realism with illustrative rotoscope outlines that produce an almost surreal quality. It takes similarly bold narrative and thematic swings, exploring heady sci-fi concepts without compromising the honest emotional turmoil of a young woman lost in grief. Following a three-year hiatus, Undone returned this spring with a sophomore outing that continued–but didn’t repeat–the charms of the first season. The voice cast includes Rosa Salazar and Bob Odenkirk, and the trippy tale is grounded by relatable, reflective relationships. [Alison Foreman]

Is anyone on TV giving a more memorable performance right now than Jean Smart on ? In season two, she takes Deborah Vance to new heights as the stand-up comedian struggles with road trip shenanigans, bonding with Ava (Hannah Einbinder)—a round of applause for the scene where she teaches Ava how to float, please—and coming to terms with her past. Hacks lets Smart go all out with an outrageous comedic performance that also delivers sentimental, nuanced beats. While the finale could easy double as a series ender, our hope is Hacks goes on for 10 more seasons so Smart and Einbinder can grace our screens for a long, long time. [Saloni Gajjar]

From Pam & Tommy to Joe vs. Carole, limited series with real-life inspirations were a dime a dozen this spring. Peacock’s managed to cut through the noise with its sensational writing and striking visuals, both anchored by a killer performance by star and executive producer Emmy Rossum. With just five parts to its name, this easy-breezy miniseries charts the rise of the titular Los Angeles “icon,” famous thanks to a mysterious billboard campaign started in 1984. The project earned an “A” from The A.V. Club because it thoughtfully captures the camp and spectacle of the local legend without sacrificing its subject’s innate sparkle. [Alison Foreman]

Based on the beloved comics of the same name, is the cynical superhero saga everyone suddenly seems to be recommending. If you’re still sleeping on Erik Kripke’s buzzy action dramedy (think Watchmen but gorier and with more direct digs at Republicans), its third season makes a great case for finally committing to the binge. An electric Antony Starr returns as the vengeful Homelander, an evil Captain America type in a universe where good old-fashioned capitalism has turned would-be heroes into egomaniacal celebs with god complexes. The Boys’ ; its ; and . [Alison Foreman]

just came out last week, but it feels like it’s lived in my head for much longer. Which kind of makes sense. The show, about a fine-dining chef (Jeremy Allen White) who returns to Chicago to run his family’s Italian beef joint, is a weird, unique blend, and there’s a lot to take in. It’s simultaneously very funny (see any Chicago-accent-tinged line delivered by Ebon Moss-Bachrach, particularly “That motherfucker is complete fucking bullshit”), very tense (the kitchen meltdown scenes are almost anxiety inducing), very dark (there’s plenty of trauma being unpacked), and very ambitious (I’m still trying to figure out how they pulled off episode’s seven’s epic oner). [Tim Lowery]