Just a bite: 14 succinct TV shows to stream this Thanksgiving

The A.V. Club serves up a cornucopia of TV recommendations you can consume in six hours or less

Just a bite: 14 succinct TV shows to stream this Thanksgiving
Clockwise: Anna Paquin in Flack (Photo: Amazon Studios), Cassandra Ciangherotti and Julio Torres in Los Espookys (Photo: Jennifer Clasen/HBO), Faith Omole in We Are Lady Parts (Photo: Saima Khalid/Peacock), and Maya And The Three (Photo: Netflix) Graphic: Libby McGuire

Now that in-person interactions are back on the menu for Thanksgiving, The A.V. Club understands that we’re all a little less glued to our TVs. So, rather than recommend shows that will take up the entire holiday weekend, we’ve put together a list of 14 series, scripted and otherwise, that can be enjoyed in under six hours. (The time limit is mostly arbitrary, but it’s also roughly how long it takes us to decompress from family gatherings.) In this edition of our annual Thanksgiving streaming guide, you’ll find stories of demons and angels, teen punk rockers and warriors, scammers and faux-Ghostbusters—all of which you can watch in their entirety and squeeze in a nap before the next bout of revelry or grievances.

Now that in-person interactions are back on the menu for Thanksgiving, The A.V. Club understands that we’re all a little less glued to our TVs. So, rather than recommend shows that will take up the entire holiday weekend, we’ve put together a list of 14 series, scripted and otherwise, that can be enjoyed in under six hours. (The time limit is mostly arbitrary, but it’s also roughly how long it takes us to decompress from family gatherings.) In this edition of our annual Thanksgiving streaming guide, you’ll find stories of demons and angels, teen punk rockers and warriors, scammers and faux-Ghostbusters—all of which you can watch in their entirety and squeeze in a nap before the next bout of revelry or grievances.

Los Espookys season one (Max)

By the end of its first episode, primes its audience for some wacky case-of-the-week shenanigans, bringing together a sort of reverse-Mystery Inc. gang that uses prosthetics and other practical effects to craft homemade horrors on demand. But that gleefully ghoulish spin on the gig economy is just the show’s entry point, and, with a heavy dose of magical realism, Los Espookys evolves before your eyes into something stranger, sweeter, and bracingly unique. In all, its inaugural season is three hours of brilliantly constructed comedy television, making the most of every frame, every line of dialogue—even its subtitles are carefully considered to best drive home its off-kilter sense of humor. And it’s all in service of the central characters (Julio Torres, Ana Fabrega, Bernardo Velasco, and Cassandra Ciangherotti), a quartet so supportive of one another’s passions—and peculiarities—that you can’t help but fall in love. [Cameron Scheetz]

Dash And Lily season one (Netflix)

Yes, it’s Thanksgiving, but there’s no better way to usher in the holiday season than by watching . The cozy four-hour binge is one of 2020’s most underrated TV shows—a subtle yet extremely fun take on Christmas-themed love stories. Austin Abrams and Midori Francis give believable, sweet performances as Dash and Lily, two 17-year-olds who communicate mostly through a notebook they find at New York City’s Strand Bookstore. The two haven’t met yet, but help each other out of their comfort zones through letters and dares as they prepare to meet in person. The show evokes the kind of holiday spirit seen in Serendipity or Love, Actually, presented through a lovely modern-day lens. Netflix frustratingly didn’t pick it up for a second season, but at least the eight-episode debut season ends on a satisfying note. [Saloni Gajjar]

Good Omens season one (Prime Video)

Binge it quick while you can: There’s another season of Neil Gaiman’s adaptation of his 1990 novel (written in collaboration with the late, great Terry Pratchett) on its way. For now, though, Amazon’s Good Omens clocks in at six hour-long episodes that stick tightly to the plot of the original novel, which sees a variety of forces—prophets, geriatric witchfinders, and one very adorable hellhound—converge on the scene of an upcoming biblical apocalypse. The stars of the show, though, are David Tennant and Michael Sheen, playing a demon and angel, respectively, who’ve gone decidedly native. Much of Pratchett and Gaiman’s prose is kept intact (mostly in the voice of Frances McDormand as God), but it’s Tennant and Sheen, and the chemistry between them, that makes Good Omens an indispensably breezy watch. [William Hughes]

The Mating Game (Max)

With cuffing season still mostly on hold, Discovery Plus premiered a new docuseries that’s all about animals trying to hook up, with some erudite narration by Sir David Attenborough. For this five-part series, camera crews traveled to 22 countries across six continents to document the birds and the bees and 80 other unique species trying to find that special someone. The Mating Game is the latest in cheeky nature docs, but it does features displays both magnificent and silly, and some that are much more unnerving, all captured by ace cinematography. Feast your eyes on a rare tree frog breeding event in a remote part of the virgin rainforest in French Guiana on Christmas Day, or witness the courtship of digger bees in the Sonoran desert (at the very least, you’ll find out what a “bee brawl” is). There’s even a bit of animal kingdom bromance. [Danette Chavez]

Fleabag seasons one and two (Prime Video)

With Fleabag, Phoebe Waller-Bridge created a knockout series anchored by stellar performances and biting wit. Despite Fleabag’s moral misgivings and reckless approach to charging through the world, no amount of time with Waller-Bridge’s character would be enough. We meet her at rock bottom, harboring guilt after a personal tragedy, and over the course of 12 episodes, we witness her delirious and sexually charged ways of dealing with life. Andrew Scott, Olivia Colman, Bill Paterson, and Sian Clifford deliver a delicate mix of brutality and tenderness in their supporting performances. Waller-Bridge never intended on even making a second season, but she delivered one just as riveting as the first before bidding a final adieu. You can watch both seasons in under six hours, but Fleabag is a show which pulls you back in for rewatch after rewatch. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

The Eric Andre Show seasons 1-3 (Hulu)

For a series as utterly chaotic as The Eric Andre Show is, it’s relaxing in its own warped way. It’s best watched with the help of an edible (if it’s legal in your area), and an unsuspecting friend who doesn’t know what they’re in for. Eric André somehow managed to lure in tons of celebrities who had no idea that they weren’t actually guests on a normal talk show, becoming victims to his unsuspected (and often horrifying) stunts and painfully awkward questions. The first three seasons of the show run under six hours all together, with episodes no longer than 12 minutes (with the exception of specials). The from the third season is infamous, and arguably remains the wildest episode yet, making viewers wonder how it was approved by Adult Swim to air. [Tatiana Tenreyro]

Flack season one (Prime Video)

When you’re lolling about in a tryptophan haze, considering another mound of cold dressing from the fridge, Amazon’s Flack would be the ideal binge-watch. Rebounding from her torturous turn on True Blood, Anna Paquin is riveting as Robyn, an American working for a high-end PR firm in London. Naturally, Robyn is dealing with her own demons, heading on a steep decline while she tries to keep all her clients’ plates in the air. Watching Flack’s pinball-like storytelling can lead to an unsettling, queasy feeling, even as it makes for compulsive viewing (you can go through either season in under eight hours, but should probably start with the first one just to make sure you’re aware of all of Robyn’s thorny backstory). [Gwen Ihnat]

Mosaic (Max)

It’s a shame that lists of director Steven Soderbergh’s best work tend to only contain his films, because Mosaic, his six-part mystery series for HBO, easily ranks among the finest things he’s ever produced. It began life as an app, an interactive murder mystery in which anyone could view the events in any order, from numerous characters’ perspectives, making it a sort of choose-your-own-adventure narrative. After a con man (Frederick Weller) is sent to prison for the murder of well-known children’s book author Olivia Lake (Sharon Stone), others start to suspect that maybe the police have the wrong man. Four years later, the investigation begins anew, and just about everyone, from Olivia’s former lodger (Garrett Hedlund) to the smarter-than-he-seems local cop (a show-stealing Devin Ratray) knows more than they’re letting on. It’s a spellbinding deconstruction of the very idea that we could ever put all the pieces of an event together. [Alex McLevy]

LuLaRich (Prime Video)

A group watch can be a tricky proposition around the holidays. While there are certainly grandmothers out there whose media diets are heavy on murder, unless you come from an especially goth family, Serial probably isn’t the best choice for after-dinner Thanksgiving viewing. LuLaRich doesn’t come on quite so hard: The crimes under discussion in this four-part documentary are mostly financial, concentrating on the shady business practices of LuLaRoe co-founders DeAnne and Mark Stidham. The series clocks in at a manageable four hours—you could watch it in an evening, if you didn’t have much else planned—and is lively enough, with wild enough characters and content, to keep it engrossing throughout. But perhaps most importantly, the series clearly and concretely breaks down how MLMs work, and why joining one is a mistake. A passive aggressive way of telling your cousin to stop messaging you about Herbalife? Perhaps. An effective one? Almost certainly. [Katie Rife]

The Flight Attendant season one (Max)

There’s very little chance you won’t be compelled to watch The Flight Attendant all at once. After Cassie (Kaley Cuoco) meets handsome, charming Alex (Michiel Huisman) on one of her flights, they spend the night together in Bangkok. But the next morning, Cassie wakes up with Alex’s murdered body in her bed, and unfortunately very little knowledge of what happened the night before. Cuoco’s winning performance makes Cassie a compelling character even though she’s a near-total mess; she can be awful to the most important people in her life—like her brother (T.R. Knight) and her lawyer best friend (Zosia Mamet)—and partakes of too many of those tiny vodka bottles in the galley. Cassie is a hopelessly unreliable narrator, and that makes us as anxious as she is to discover all the pulled strings behind what really happened on that fateful night, aided by Alex’s creepy beyond-the-grave commentary. [Gwen Ihnat]

Maya And The Three (Netflix)

The Book Of Life director and co-writer Jorge Gutierrez unleashes the full extent of his imagination in Maya And The Three, a heartwarming and often wrenching limited series that’s also one of the most visually stunning works of animation of the year (at least). Instead of centering the action in Mexico, Maya (Zoe Saldaña) traverses Latin America, including the Caribbean, gathering mighty warriors for a battle between humanity and the gods (and you thought your adolescence was rough). Rather than give us another fantasy epic steeped in medieval European history, Gutierrez combines elements of indigenous cultures, including Mesoamerican, into a vibrant tapestry that looks downright tactile. The series leaps right off the screen thanks to some ratio aspect manipulation, gorgeous renderings, and boisterous performances by Gutierrez, Saldaña, Stephanie Beatriz, Diego Luna, Chelsea Rendon, Gael García Bernal, and more. You can see Maya’s quest through to the end in under five hours, and with a vivacious Spanish dub. [Danette Chavez]

Garth Marenghi's Darkplace (Prime Video)

It’s a mixed blessing that there are only six half-hour episodes of out there: On the one hand, Darkplace Hospital might be the least safe healthcare institution on the planet, filled as it is with malevolent Scottish mists, sexually aggressive eyeball monsters, and a whole host of low-budget psychic phenomena. On the other hand, there are depressingly few shows like Darkplace, which saw Matthew Holness and Richard Ayoade bring their stage show about a deeply pretentious Stephen King wannabe (Holness) into gloriously cheesy life by imagining, and then filming—with obsessive attention to awful detail—the worst ’80s sci-fi action show that never was. Add in perfectly cornball performances from Matt Berry and Alice Lowe, and a hypnotically nasty/stilted turn from Ayoade (who would revive his character for a follow-up project, Man To Man With Dean Learner, a few years later), and it’s the most delightful maggot-filled 183 minutes you’re likely to spend this holiday season. [William Hughes]

We Are Lady Parts season one (Peacock)

We Are Lady Parts is one of the best shows of the year so far. It might’ve flown under the radar because it’s on new(ish) streaming platform Peacock in the U.S., but there’s no better time to catch up. Nida Manzoor pulls off a hat trick in this BBC original comedy as creator, writer, and director of the show, which centers on five diverse Muslim women who form the band Lady Parts. They navigate their friendship and growing pains through the songwriting process. We Are Lady Parts is endearing and hilarious. It also offers a rarely seen portrayal of free-spirited Muslim characters and families that aren’t bound by stereotypes. The quick six-episode, three-hour journey of the show packs a heavy punch with its performances and energetic music. You’ll be singing the show’s songs and praises long after finishing it. [Saloni Gajjar]

On Cinema At The Cinema (YouTube;

Tim Heidecker and Gregg Turkington’s rabbit hole of a project, On Cinema At The Cinema, is unlike anything else. Ostensibly a movie review show, On Cinema veers off course almost immediately as Tim enriches himself through ludicrous and deadly investments. Meanwhile, his perpetual guest, Gregg, just wants to talk about movies, though he knows next to nothing about them. Each week, Tim and Gregg review the new releases, offering film expertise and unsettling body horror along the way. Episodes run five to 10 minutes—the perfect between-course Thanksgiving snack. You could finish the first three seasons before pie, but completists will keep busy through Christmas. The show gets five bags of popcorn and one of those little hand turkeys because it’s Thanksgiving. [Matt Schimkowitz]

 
Join the discussion...