The 10 Best TV Shows of 2025

I'm still wondering how the fall's preeminent buzzy, salacious new Netflix miniseries turned out to be The Beast in Me—and not Black Rabbit. Seriously, what happened here? The streaming-verse is more crowded than ever, but Jason Bateman and Jude Law starring in a show that feels very much like The Bear crossed with Ozark is appointment TV. Created by Zach Baylin and Kate Susman (who have too many bonafides to count), Black Rabbit sees Bateman and Law play brothers who fire up a restaurant together before a whole lot of shit ensues. Including, but certainly not limited to: Crime outfits, scandal, and two of the best performances you'll see all year. Baylin and Susman's attention to detail in their recreation of New York City's restaurant world is remarkable. (Who else would think to stage a car chase on the Pulaski Bridge?) Plus, you have to give Black Rabbit serious credit for ending its story on a definitive punctuation mark. It's a ballsy ending that I can't stop thinking about, which is all too rare nowadays.—B.L.

Watch on Netlflix

The term “essential viewing” is a TV-critic cliché—but I have to break it out here, because Adolescence is absolutely essential viewing. In telling the tragedy of the Miller family, whose young son commits a heinous crime in a fit of rage, Adolescence bottles up everything that is troubling about teenage boys right now. In only four hours, the series manages to put all of their loneliness, anger, and confusion on full display. The icing on the cake? A career-best turn from Stephen Graham, as well as the stunning introduction of Owen Cooper. The 15-year-old actor is a surefire future star, if he isn’t already. In fact, Adolescence would've been higher on my final list if it had left the focus on Cooper's thundering performance. As necessary as the finale's shift to the parents' perspective may be, Adolescence relegated Cooper's transcendent turn to the sidelines while leaving Jamie as a mere off-camera voice from a jail cell.—B.L.

Watch on Netflix

Despite what the Trump administration may report, South Park remains as popular as ever. But the animated comedy hit an orange-hued fever pitch this year, reminding us exactly why creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone are world-class satirists. After 27 seasons (and counting) spent cementing the series as the place where no joke is off-limits, the ridiculous series became the only show on TV that can depict the President having sex with Satan and continue to air bi-weekly episodes. That’s impressive in 2025, especially when other shows that poke fun at Trump found themselves suspended and canceled for far less. Thankfully, South Park is still allowed to keep the (tiny) dick jokes going. Nowadays, I call that rebellion.—J.R.

Watch on Paramount+

It's perfectly reasonable to complain about Hollywood's penchant for telling its best stories in the guise of valuable IP (sorry, IT: Welcome to Derry and Alien: Earth), but just know that brilliant original work like Task still exists on TV. Only series creator Brad Ingelsby—who made Wawa a household name in 2021 with Mare of Easttown—could make a ridiculously entertaining series that also feels like a great American novel. In Task, he pits two jump-out-of-the-screen performances against each other. The battle is between Mark Ruffalo's FBI agent Tom Brandis and a suspect in a string of robberies, Tom Pelphrey's (who, hopefully, will soon be a household name) Robbie Prendergrast. The result is a stirring meditation on unrealized dreams, fatherhood, and forgiveness. The season finale also sees one of the greatest moments in Ruffalo's legendary career—and awards voters will certainly reward him with serious hardware when the time comes.—B.L.

Watch on HBO Max

It's no secret that Nathan Fielder’s brand of comedy isn’t for everyone. It’s a brutal fact that haunts the comedian himself, despite his genius writing. So, it's entirely understandable that his HBO comedy series aims to help people rehearse important moments in their lives so that they seem less awkward when the big day arrives. In season 2, Fielder sets his sights on solving problems in the airline industry—specifically, communication between pilots before a crash. As with everything Fielder explores, this niche issue becomes a metaphor for humanity’s failure to effectively communicate in any setting in the world. Add in a dash of Evanescence needle drops and Sully Sullenberger puppets and you have one of the most essential comedies on TV. That said (pardon the aviation pun), The Rehearsal is ranked highly on this list because of where it lands. As season 2 hurtles to the end, Fielder not only pulls off a showstopping feat (yes, the man really did pilot a Boeing 737), but he turns his rigorous exploration of the human psyche onto himself. It's thrilling—and brave—television. —J.R.

Watch on HBO Max

Andor aired its series finale over six months ago, and I'm still in awe of how creator Tony Gilroy managed to land such a searing political statement on Mickey Mouse's streaming service. In season 1, the prequel to 2016's Rogue One established itself as the best thing a Star Wars-branded anything has done since, well... Rogue One. But its Andor's second and (criminally)final season that cemented its legend. Gilroy pulled off too many triumphs to list here, but chief among them is an achingly relevant takedown of authoritarianism and its cowardly, power-hungry leaders. Andor's main cast also delivered career performances, from established greats (Genevieve O'Reilly and Forest Whitaker) to newcomers that we'll see on our screens for a long time (Denise Gough and Kyle Soller). While I'm at it: the fact that Diego Luna was not nominated for an Emmy for his work in Andor? It's a shame.—B.L.

Watch on Disney+

When I finished The Studio, I ran to a meeting and loudly (and obnoxiously) declared it the best comedy of the streaming era. In the moment, it felt like a take I’d back down from later, but ... it hasn’t aged negatively at all. Seth Rogen nails his takedown of modern Hollywood in a way only Seth Rogen can—with love, affection, razor-sharp satire, and that big goofy laugh on top of it all. The list of celebrities riffing on fictionalized versions of themselves—you’re the GOAT, Martin Scorsese!—is too massive to name-check here. But rest assured, the main cast of Rogen, Chase Sui Wonders, Catherine O’Hara, Kathryn Hahn, and Ike Barinholtz absolutely eat the heck out of every single scene. As Hollywood devolves even further into acquisition chaos, Rogen was clearly prescient in knowing that a savage industry satire is exactly what we need right now. He'll have no shortage of material to pull from in season 2.—B.L.

Watch on Apple TV

There’s so much to love about what Severance pulled off in its sophomore effort. (And I mean that. My recaps this season went well past 2,500 words each.) For its shout-out here, I just want to say how damn well written season 2 is all the way through. Season 1 lobbed up a wild amount of characters, storylines, and mysteries for its next batch of episodes to deal with when they finally aired. Severance's second season was not only bold enough to answer so many of its biggest questions, but it did so in a way that somehow satisfied just about all of its rabid fans. On top of that, Severance delivered its raging capitalist critique—channelling the horrors of Corporate America and the debilitating effects on its lowliest workers—with even more potency this time around. (Those poor goats!) And while Pluribus and The Pitt ultimately land just above Severance in our final list, it has the greatest episode of the year in the Jessica Lee Gagné–directed “Chikhai Bardo.” —B.L.

Watch on Apple TV

I spent more time flip-flopping Severance and Pluribus on this list than I'd like to admit. (Sorry, Carol and Mark S., but neither of you had any chance of taking Dr. Robbie's crown.) Here's what I came up with: No other show on television captured the exact feeling of being alive right now better than Pluribus. We live in a fractured, tormented world split apart by a pandemic, AI, and horrific political leaders. We're lonely, hurt, and confused. Most of us have either given up—dulling ourselves with phones and ChatGPT kinship—or are fighting like hell to reclaim our own lives. This is exactly what we see in Pluribus's dozen survivors of a mind-wiping, unifying virus. Eleven humans give into the vices of the new world, while one, Carol (played by a magnificent Rhea Seehorn) nearly loses her mind for the sake of maintaining her own individuality. The fact that this message comes from legendary television creator Vince Gilligan—who provides Pluribus with a masterclass in world-building, suspense, and sci-fi storytelling—is simply a gift.—B.L.

Watch on Apple TV

If Pluribus captured the internal lives of the here and now—and all the loneliness and heartbrokenness that entails—then The Pitt nailed the external. What do I mean by that? Gun violence, hospital staff shortages, misinformation, and the way America treats its caretakers. I not only don’t want to live in a world where we don’t have The Pitt, but I can't even imagine a world without it. Out of what felt like nowhere, The Pitt gave us 15 episodes depicting one 15-hour shift at a Pittsburgh hospital with no music and at least a dozen performances worth shouting out. It's staggering how lived-in The Pitt's crew of doctors, med students, and surgeons feel; everyone from Gerran Howell's bushy-tailed Whittaker, to Supriya Ganesh's doing-okay-until-she-isn't Dr. Mohan feels ripped from real life. You simply believe them. (If you don't, that's precisely what the show is criticizing.) And the commitment of The Pitt’s creative team—including ER veteran Noah Wyle, in what is increasingly looking like his career-defining role—to maintaining medical accuracy while tackling all of America’s most urgent problems at once? It's this medium at the absolute peak of its powers.—B.L.

Watch on HBO Max