On TV, 2024 is the year of the yearn

I’m a sucker for yearners on TV. If two people are pining like miserable fools, unable to escape each other’s magnetism, ideally over a fairly long time, consider me seated for their torturous joyride. No wonder I was sold on Netflix’s One Day, despite the expected, unmitigated heartbreak, and Abbott Elementary, which has had me in a chokehold ever since Janine (Quinta Brunson) and Gregory’s (Tyler James Williams) meet cute in the show’s premiere in 2021.

Naturally, the will-they-won’t-they trope is unbelievably common, but a lengthy episodic medium leverages it best. Television bestows sufficient time to writers and performers to leisurely sharpen a love story, build angst, and keep us on our toes. It lets us dwell on the possibilities, the flirtation, and the gestures as the anticipation crescendos. No matter the genre, unresolved sexual and emotional tension tends to pull us in. There are plenty of examples to choose from over the decades (we picked 20 favorites recently), but in 2024 there are indeed tons of TV couples reaping the rewards of a slow burn.

Almost halfway through the year, it’s striking how various shows incorporate it in some form. (What a time to be a patient romance stan, right?) It goes beyond obvious picks like Bridgerton, One Day, and Mr. And Mrs. Smith, a surprisingly heartfelt spy drama. Whether it’s in sci-fi, a thriller, or a period piece, having intense feelings will make people act like absolute idiots, leading to weighty and relatably human moments. That’s why John Blackthorne (Cosmo Jarvis) arguing with Mariko’s (Anna Sawai) husband in Shōgun hits the right spot. As does 3 Body Problem’s penultimate episode, in which the cosmos factors into Will’s (Alex Sharpe) unrequited love for his BFF, Jin (Jess Hong). And the same goes for Paramount+’s horror series Evil, which kicked off its fourth season on May 23, in which I’m dying to see if Kristen (Katja Herbers) and David (Mike Colter) succumb to temptation.

The infusion of this trope everywhere this year feels victorious because romance isn’t necessarily considered highbrow. So who can we thank? For my money, Shonda Rhimes’ period drama Bridgerton has sparked this mainstream resurgence of sorts. Season three’s carriage scene has caused a well-earned meltdown on social media within days of its debut. In it, Colin (Luke Newton) falls to his knees, proclaims his love for Penelope (Nicola Coughlan), and pleasures her, culminating their friends-to-lovers arc. It’s sweet, hot, and nicely displays the actors’ chemistry. The response tweets were, naturally, fairly deranged and horny. (Folks on Tumblr especially lost it.)

It’s a specific style of passionate writing Rhimes’ shows have perfected, perhaps none better than ABC’s Grey’s Anatomy, which wraps its 20th(!) season in May. The medical drama has meticulously crafted love stories throughout its run. (RIP to most of them now.) And it’s happening again with Amelia Shepherd (Caterina Scorsone) and Monica Beltram (Natalie Morales). They use the show’s classic go-tos—doctors bonding over their traumas, sharing lingering glances while operating, and opening up to each other. After a long time of meh romantic storylines, Grey’s has once again swept me up in a titillating slow burn this year (sorry, Jo and Link).

Network shows, especially sitcoms, are delivering the good too. Janine and Gregory’s back-and-forth in Abbott Elementary season three ends in a giddy finale. I sighed in frustration and leaped with joy over the 20 minutes of watching them fawn over each other. The slow dancing across the room? The “I fixed your light” before going in for a kiss? They prove why investing in a slow burn is worth it. If executed well, the payoff is hella rewarding.

And there’s plenty of it on Netflix’s One Day, too, which is far better than the cramped movie adaptation. The beautiful, ill-fated love story between Emma (Ambika Mod) and Dexter (Leo Woodall) is perfect for a lengthy, 14-episode run. I experienced a gamut of emotions (from swooning to rolling my eyes to straight-up sobs) watching them curb their desires. For them, either the timing isn’t right, or they need to grow individually, or they’re in different locations, or their friendship briefly fizzles and they’re dating someone else. During all of these hurdles, I kept screaming, “Do something! Get together!” But practically, One Day is incredibly grounded. For most of their adult lives, Emma and Dexter live in a frustrating “what if” scenario, getting pushed in opposite directions because, well, life happens. It’s easy to connect with this. What if they had the guts to go after what they wanted, challenging themselves to overcome obstacles along the way? How would their lives have turned out differently? These are questions that plague us all at some point. (Don’t you deny it.)

This slow-burn trope also is flourishing in other genres, too. Just look at Eddie (Theo James) and Susie (Kaya Scodelario) in Netflix’s heist drama The Gentlemen, or Edwin (George Rexstrew) secretly crushing on his pal/business partner Charles (Jayden Revri) in Dead Boy Detectives. There’s also Hulu’s Under The Bridge, which doesn’t quite flesh out Rebecca (Riley Keough) and Cam’s (Lily Gladstone) romance. Still, the relationship is a sight for sore eyes in the true-crime genre.

What’s more, many of my favorite slow-burns of late (in the lusty Interview With The Vampire, or The Walking Dead: The Ones Who Live, or Ghosts, which boasts a polyamorous relationship) are refreshingly diverse. Personally, watching Mod in One Day and Coughlan in Bridgerton presented as unabashed objects of desire feels both fantastic and necessary. It’s so satisfying to see a well-worn trope get a much-needed update. So bring on the crushing crushes, the unfettered longings, the creeping jealousies, the works. We’re ready for ’em.