The very idea of what we consider television seems to to change every year. The idea of a network series, an HBO series, a Netflix series, a web series, they all seem to be merging into one massive network of content. The days of rushing to get home to catch your favorite TV show or recording your newest obsession are long gone. Everything is at our fingertips. Everything is at our disposal. The downside with that is that we take advantage of what we’re being given.
The first visual that comes to mind when I think of watching TV in 2016 is a group of friends sitting around catching up on their favorites, each of them checking their phones several or more times throughout the episode. “Netflix and Chill” is a couple sitting on their couch, skimming through Netflix, HBO, Amazon, etc. looking for the newest thing to become obsessed with. But when you’re watching truly great television, there are no distractions. It starts to take hold of you the same way a great film does when experienced in a dark movie theater surrounded by strangers.
There were 15 shows this year that simply could not be touched in terms of quality and originality. Most of them came from the usual suspects: HBO, Amazon, Netflix. But the network that truly shined this year was FX. Long the home for subversive, original comedies like “Louie”, FX nearly stole the show this year. From “Atlanta” to “Baskets” to the problematic but undeniably engulfing “American Crime Story: The People v. O.J. Simpson”, FX was constantly producing groundbreaking, exciting television.
But the most truly unique television experience came in the form of a small, off the radar show about two men running their family bar in New York. It’s in a way no surprise it came from the brilliant mind of the one and only Louis C.K. The show, produced and shot almost entirely on a sound stage in New York, is profound in that it’s simple pleasures come from watching great actors read great dialogue. There’s nothing flashy or stylistic about it. It’s Louis C.K. calling some friends down to play and read the incredibly nuanced, Eugene O’Neill-esque writing he’s prepared for them. It’s a show that came out of nowhere, dropped out of the blue by Louie earlier this year, and a show that will stick with you long after you finish its heartbreaking finale.
This year, television gave us uncommonly powerful stories of redemption, of triumph and of despair. It casts a mirror on ourselves as a society in shows like “The Night Of”, our own narcissism and privilege in shows like “Search Party” and “Vice Principals”. Shows like “Fleabag” dared us to look at depression in all its painful, ugly glory. “Atlanta” and “Baskets” gave us fresh and unique perspectives on vastly different sides of our culture and America. But they all showed us painful reflections of who we are at our best, our worst and everything in between.
So, here’s the [subjective] best television shows of 2016.
Some actors are born to play a role. We’ve seen it countless times in television over the years. James Gandolfini was born to play Tony Soprano. Michael K. Williams was born to play Omar Little. Not many people would expect to find such praise in the anthology series “Black Mirror”. Not that the show doesn’t provide an actor friendly vehicle per episode, but it’s not a series where an actor can grow into a role the way Gandolfini did.
But with the second episode of season three of the hit anthology series, “Playtest”, we get to see Wyatt Russell play the role he was born to play. A charismatic, low key bro backpacking through Europe forced to turn to an odd job testing video games to pay his way home. Yes, this isn’t exactly Tony Soprano or Walter White. But this is a role so perfectly suited to actor, it’s amazing nobody had thought of it sooner. The finesse in which Russell operates in this episode is nothing short of mind-blowing. He anchors the entire episode beyond it’s fun premise and allows us into the world being created far more than any other actor I’ve seen on the series. Through totally realistic reactions to funny one-liners, Russell proves that he is a star in the making. Someone give this guy a starring vehicle already because he shows more charisma in 60 minutes than most leading men can in entire films.
Season three marks by far the most consistently fantastic the series has been to date. While the first half of the season is far stronger than the second half, it still features one of the most groundbreaking and mind-fucking episodes of television I’ve seen all year in the form of “San Junipero”. It’s heady sci-fi with a heart and it represents what “Black Mirror” and the genre itself can be on its best day.
Essential Episode: “San Junipero”, dir. Owen Harris
Last year, “Game of Thrones” went off the deep-end. It succumbed to it’s worst instincts and became not only bleak, but nearly unwatchable in it’s depravity. After four stellar seasons and an ever-growing fan base, the show seemed to have hit a wall. By the time it got around to it’s “shocking” season finale, the shock had all but worn off. After one too many rape scenes, watching a child burned to death and Lena Headey humiliated for what seemed like an eternity, the death of Jon Snow felt like an afterthought. The audience was numbed to what the show could do in the way of shocking us.
So going into season six, my expectations were reasonably low. But after a solid first episode back, the show began to find the light again. It found the balance that made it so successful to begin with. It gave us something to root for, not just something to look forward to. We didn’t just wait in fear every week to see which one of our favorite characters would get the axe. By giving us not only more insight into the beloved Hodor but also putting the “Battle of the Bastards” at the center of the conflict, “Game of Thrones” once again skyrocketed back into must watch TV.
While most of the season was solid as a whole, it all came down to the final two episodes to seal the deal for the show. In “Battle of the Bastards”, director Miguel Sapochnik delivered not only the best episode in the series history, but one of the most well-directed, beautifully photographed, insanely well realized episodes of television I’ve ever had the privilege of watching. In that golden hour of television, it was like being a kid at the movies again. Sapochnik and crew were able to deliver that special feeling we get when we’re too young to know what’s behind the curtain and just sit back and enjoy the ride — something that few directors have managed to achieve in television.
Essential Episode: “Battle of the Bastards”, dir. Miguel Sapochnik
2016 was the worst year of my life. I’ve had some devastating blows and some truly devastating moments in my 28 years of life. But as a whole, nothing compared to the shit-show that was 2016. The only thing that could’ve made this entire year worse was if Donald Trump was elected president — holy shit, he was elected president. Donald Trump is our president elect. We’ve managed to fully realize our country as the racist, sexist, vile, immature country that we’ve longed to be for so long, by electing a racist, sexist, vile, immature man under the guise of being a presidential, uniting force. Holy shit.
The only person that could truly make sense of this shit-storm all year was John Oliver. Through biting satirical humor (actual satirical, not Bill Maher-smug-satirical) and a journalistic eye sadly missing from most of mainstream media in 2016, Oliver was able to plow through the storm and deliver stories that actually needed to be told in 2016. From institutional racism to third party spoilers to truly corrupt credit companies, Oliver dug deep and always came out with a story that managed to shock us while still reducing us to fits of hysterical laughter.
Bleak would be an understatement in describing 2016 and Oliver was a true ray of light throughout it all. In the first year since Jon Stewart’s semi-abrupt departure from “The Daily Show”, the world needed somebody to look to for laughter, insight and the hard truth. Oliver became that person in spades. Hopefully, 2017 is a lot brighter than 2016. But from the looks of it, it might only be getting worse. One of the things I found myself repeating throughout the year was, “Well, at least we have John Oliver.”
Essential Episode: “Donald Trump”
There are a lot of shows about white 20-somethings searching for meaning in the universe. Lena Dunham’s “Girls” is partially responsible for ushering in a whole new generation of narcissistic 20-somethings, for better or worse. But while Dunham’s show has often straddled the line between knowing whether it was satirical or not, Michael Showalter & Charles Rodgers’ new TBS series “Search Party” is fully in on the joke.
Using the mystery and detective genre to startling original effect, “Search Party” focuses on Alia Shawkat’s Dory as she searches for a missing friend (or sort of friend, mostly somebody she just knew once). This is all used as a hardly subtle metaphor to show the characters relationship to the city around her and her slowly impending career choices. She feels lost, stuck in a treacherous city where everybody is hustling to get theirs, and develops an unhealthy obsession with finding her old friend.
The shows magical touch comes from its total and unapologetic awareness of how unbelievably self-absorbed the 20-somethings of its series truly are. But where “Girls” shows a more insulated, mostly white perspective, “Search Party” is able to leap beyond the its white protagonists. It’s a show with an imagination but also a realistic depiction of the city the characters inhabit. From showing actual homeless people on park benches and not just pretty white people sipping lattes to a multi-racial city on full display, “Search Party” actually portrays New York closer to the actual city than “Girls” has ever come close to.
Another theme in the best shows of the year seems to be giving character actors their time to shine. From Steve Buscemi in “Horace & Pete” to John Turturro in “The Night Of”, this year has seen its fair share of bit players get a chance to take the spotlight. Alia Shawkat in “Search Party” is no different. Long given supporting parts as the quirky friend, it’s nice to see Shawkat given center stage. Possessing the look and expressiveness of an old silent film star, Shawkat is the glue of the show. While the actors surrounding her are all fantastic in turn, it’s Shawkat that gives the show its center and keeps us watching.
Essential Episode: “The House of Uncanny Truths”, dir. Sarah Violet-Bliss & Charles Rogers
If there’s one thing we were reassured of in America in 2016, it’s that white men feel betrayed and unheard. It’s a baffling cry for help that has rocked us in ways that we will be feeling for decades to come. The show that ended up capturing how we live in America more so than almost any other came in the form of Jody Hill’s newest cringe-inducing indictment of American men, “Vice Principals”.
McBride, per usual, succeeds in playing another delusional ego-driven man on the brink of a nervous breakdown, but the real star of the show is Goggins. A character actor that’s slowly built up a resume over the years of diverse, often mentally unstable men, Goggins proves he’s not only one of the best character actors working today, but a comedic force of nature.
A show that starts off as a manic, over-the-top portrayal of two bitter, often pathetic white men pursuing the same job as principal of their North Carolina high school, eventually descends into a bleak, tragic comedy about two bitter, often pathetic white men destroying an intelligent, successful black woman’s career. Hill and McBride have always succeeded with these types of stories, but their work has never felt more timely. This may or may not have been intentional given the political climate, but the story they tell is one with frightening ramifications. For the first time, the plights of these men feel all too real to the world we live in today. One where middle-aged white men feel betrayed by the world around them, that they’ve come up short and most frighteningly, are entitled to something that was never theirs to begin with.
Essential Episode: “Run for the Money”, dir. Jody Hill
Joe Swanberg is a humanist. He makes small films about small peoples lives and the small moments that define them. In last years “Digging for Fire”, he explored the deterioration of a marriage over the course of a 24-hour period. He didn’t do it in an explosive Cassavettes-style way and never once ventured into melodrama. He allowed two very gifted actors’ faces and small motivations to guide us to it’s quietly affecting and moving finale.
What Swanberg was able to capture in that 90 minute film, he brings to his equally quietly affecting Netflix series “Easy”. For being his first venture into television, Swanberg totally knocks it out of the park and then some. Through eight loosely connected storylines, he tells the story of love and all its complications in the city of Chicago. While each episode is a mini-gift in itself, the two that truly solidify it as a great show are the fifth and seventh episodes.
The fifth episode, focusing on an obscure cartoonist and writer (played in a brilliant stroke of casting by Marc Maron) and his crumbling relationships. It casts a deft eye on not only love in the 21st century but also on being an artist in the 21st century. The seventh episode is maybe the best 30 minutes of Swanberg’s career. A couple (played by the almost offensively talented and beautiful Gugu Mbatha-Raw and Swanberg regular Jake Johnson) has recently broken up and spend their break-up halfway across the country from one another. It’s a simple set-up but what Swanberg does with simplicity is at times, truly magical. He nails that bittersweet in-between period where you’re not quite over someone but you know what you’ve done is for the best. The feeling of being a 20-something and not knowing exactly what you want, but what you don’t want. The frustration that lies in wanting to be in a relationship, but not being able to fully give yourself to it. It’s through these episodes and most of “Easy” that Swanberg defines his style in a way not previously seen and sets him up as the indie auteur he’s been praised as for over a decade now.
Essential Episodes: “Art and Life” & “Chemistry Read”, dir. Joe Swanberg
Writing about depression can be simultaneously effortless and painstaking. It can be a stream-of-consciousness type effect where the feelings just flow onto the page and you put all of yourself out there in ways many might not be prepared for. It can also be ham-fisted, overly sentimental or downright… well, depressing. It’s a tight rope to write something personal and tragic without victimizing your characters or their plights.
“Fleabag” is the rare, miraculous show that walks that tight rope and comes out the other side, unscathed. It’s a show that’s achingly painful to watch because of the unflattering, often difficult ways we relate to the protagonist and her “unsavory” way of living. We’ve all fallen prey to our worst instincts, our worst desires. “Fleabag”, through it’s protagonist and writer, Phoebe Waller-Bridge, gives us a taste of real pain that most shows shy away from. It’s not afraid to look depression and regret in the eye. It’s brave, necessary storytelling and a showcase for an actress that matches the shows braveness.
In the most heart-wrenching, moving episode of the series’ six-episode run, the title character Fleabag visits a female-only silent retreat and encounters a man from a bizarre neighboring workshop and have a conversation about regret that has stuck with me since I first watched it.
The man, played by Hugh Dennis, in one particularly raw and heart-stopping moment says:
“I want to move back home. I want to hug my wife. Protect my children. Protect my daughter. I want to move on. I want to apologize. To everyone. Want to go to the theater. I want to take clean cups out of the dishwasher and put them in the cupboard at home. And the next morning, I want to watch my wife drink from them. And I want to make her feel good.”
Depression, grief and regret come in many forms. The simplicity in which “Fleabag” conveys them, like in that key moment, are astonishing. It’s one of the many new shows this year that proves the golden age of television is just beginning.
Essential Episode: “Episode 104”, dir. Harry Bradbeer
There’s heartbreak and then there’s the heartbreak you get when your favorite show is cancelled. It happened to many fans at the turn of the century with “Freaks & Geeks” and then again in 2006 with “Arrested Development”. It’s a sad feeling shared amongst a small but dedicated fanbase as they learn that some of their favorite characters on television are no more. In the case of “Arrested Development”, fervent fan demand brought the series back in a disappointing 2013 run. In the case of “Freaks & Geeks”, we were gifted the careers of some really talented young actors.
The heartbreaking outcome of HBO’s two-season run of “Togetherness” is that the story has ended and it won’t be coming back. It’s unfortunate for many reasons. One being that it’s so rare to see such a keenly observed show about relationships in 2016. Another is that it’s a small-budget show with some great actors doing fantastic work on the biggest network around. The other is that the show is just that fucking good. It’s a warm and comforting series about four people looking for meaning in each other and their relationships. Like “Easy”, it’s a simple premise but it’s done with such a well-observed eye that it makes it transcends its simplicity and makes it into something much bigger and more important.
The world doesn’t exactly need another show about middle-class white people struggling to find the meaning of life because we’re already overwhelmed with those stories as it is. The problem is, when it’s done well, it gives us even more reason to demand the other disappear completely. It’s become such a common storyline in television and film, that we almost take it for granted when it’s well done. The Duplass Brothers have thrived in this sub-genre as it’s totally their bread and butter.
In the second and final season of “Togetherness”, we were treated not only to more time with four relatable and totally human characters, but we were also treated to one of the most underrated and all-around fantastic performances of 2016. Amanda Peet has slowly morphed from leading lady to character actress and this was the showcase she needed. It provided her with a fully-fleshed out, living, breathing human being (something that’s rare for actresses her age to get) and gave her the freedom to improvise and dig deep. Her performance as the self-sabotaging Tina Morris was one that constantly surprised with its amount of depth and humanity. It was a performance that we should be seeing a lot more of on television and in film. A 40-something year-old woman getting a fully dimensional role as a person that’s funny, tragic, full of life and aching to be loved and understood. “Togetherness” gave us that performance and it will be sadly missed for it.
Essential Episode: “Advanced Pretend”, dir. Jay & Mark Duplass
Adapting films into shows is all the rage these days. We see revivals of everything from beloved classics to cult classics to obscure mid-budget entertainment that did solid business during its initial release. Some are head-scratching (“Frequency”) and some turn out to be brilliant decisions (“Fargo”). The 2009 Steven Soderbergh experiment, “The Girlfriend Experience” with real-life porn actress Sasha Grey, is not exactly the first film you’d think of when adapting film to television, but it ends up being one of the better decisions a network has made in quite some time.
Taking the same premise but adding backstory and casting an extremely talented up-and-comer in the form of Riley Keough, the show is able to rise above the film to TV curse and then some. It casts a cold, often hyper-realistic eye on the sex business without relishing in it or judging it. It presents a neutral perspective to something that is often used to exploit it for its own inherent seediness or to garner an easy laugh.
The finest touch of the series is bringing in indie directors Lodge Kerrigan and Amy Seimetz to direct all the episodes. Both directors are so in touch with what works about the storyline and each others vision that it ends up feeling like the next best auteur television series after “The Knick”, another Soderbergh vision. The coldness of the world, the very real danger lurking in the shadows as one customer becomes overly attached, the judgement of family and friends, all of it feels so true, it gives the show a documentary-like feeling.
The entire season feels like a pressure builder waiting to explode until it does but in ways that are often surprising and true to the shows nature. The final episode, finding Keough’s Christine in the midst of a pathetic fetishist’s dream scenario, is shockingly funny and by turns, sadly all too real. It paints sex in the 21st century as something to be craved and demanded. Something we don’t necessarily want but feel we need to have.
Essential Episode: “Separation”, dir. Lodge Kerrigan
“The Americans” was a show I came too somewhat late. I caught up with it when it was already three seasons deep and it instantly became that show you find yourself saying “Where have you been my whole life?” while watching. It’s highly addictive, exquisitely well written stuff and it features two of the best performances on television, or anywhere for that matter.
First and foremost, “The Americans” is a writers show. It’s the reason writers want to work in television. It provides endless gifts for it’s hard-working, brilliant writing staff. The wealth of nuance to find in the story of two Soviet spies living in America with an American born family is seemingly endless.
While this season did falter a bit, it was still able to shock us with one particularly tragic fate and keep us on the edge of our seat in ways only “The Americans” can. The fact that it took four seasons for the Emmys to recognize this low-key stunner is a crime in itself. The central performances by Keri Russell and Matthew Rhys are a two-hander that should’ve been getting loads of awards since day one.
While those two performances are the ones that are often showered in praise, and rightfully so, it’s often that the shows other fantastic performance is overshadowed. Holly Taylor, the teenage actress who portrays the daughter of the Jennings clan, is maybe the best utilized young actor on television. Clearly, the showrunners saw they had a major gift on their hands in the form of Taylor. She continues to get better and better, quickly becoming the moral compass of a show where morality is becoming ever more prevalent. It’s the best use of a young actor since “Mad Men” gave Kiernan Shipka a chance to shine.
Essential Episode: “Chloramphenicol”, dir. Stefan Schwartz
Worldview is so important in storytelling. Having a specific worldview can make or break most series and films. Donald Glover’s worldview in “Atlanta” is one unlike any other on television.
When we watch “Atlanta”, it’s like we’re entering a new world. One that we’ve heard about and traveled to, but not like the one we’re witnessing on our television screens that very moment. Glover takes us on a personal, surreal tour of the city that helps define him. The show feels like early Spike Lee and Louis C.K. rolled into one. It’s invigorating, vital, drolly funny and might be the most necessary show of 2016.
The quiet sadness that hangs in the air of every episode. That subtle hint of desperation that each character clings to. It’s all so familiar yet so fresh in the hands of Glover and his team of ace directors and writers. It feels like a story that’s been deep inside of Glover his whole life and he’s finally gotten the chance to tell it. It’s alive, it’s pulsating with fresh perspective and it’s totally unique. When you get to the polarizing seventh episode, “B.A.N.”, you get the same feeling you get when watching Barry Jenkins’ brilliantly galvanizing “Moonlight”. This is a story that needs to be told and is being told so right, that nothing else can or will compete with it in terms of necessity. You get the feeling you’re watching something truly special. Something that only happens once or a twice in a generation. That’s what “Atlanta” is.
Essential Episode: “B.A.N.”, dir. Donald Glover
There’s a strange power at work in Zach Galifianakis’ new FX series, “Baskets”. It’s that hypnotic feeling you get when you’re watching something you’ve never quite seen more, similar to FX’s other new series, “Atlanta”. It’s the feeling you’re watching a vision come to life that’s been aching to come to life for quite some time now. It’s odd, it’s peculiar, it defies genre and it feels like nothing else on TV. It’s something that only could’ve come from the minds of Zach Galifianakis and Louis C.K.
Focusing the series on a man who is, for all intents and purposes, a loser, “Baskets” tells the story of a man trying to find a career as a clown. After training in Paris, he meets a woman and falls in love, under the impression that she too is in love with him. But all she wants is citizenship. He moves her to Bakersfield, CA — a place where no dreams come true — to start a family and a life for himself as a clown. Unfortunately, nobody respects the art of clowning in Bakersfield so he finds himself working as a rodeo clown. The premise itself is good enough that the show would’ve had to falter pretty badly to ruin any chances of it being remotely watchable.
But the surprising part of “Baskets” is how much heart it has. It’s a show that wears its heart on its sleeve and isn’t afraid to go to dark places most network shows would be scared to venture into. It portrays a man who has deluded himself beyond comprehension and a family that’s at odds with the rest of the world. Emotional, deeply feeling human beings that can’t quite find their place in an unforgiving world, a.k.a. Bakersfield.
And then there’s Louie Anderson. The rightful winner of best supporting actor in a comedy series at this years Emmy Awards, Anderson portrays Mrs. Baskets totally straight-faced and as a wholly realized woman. He defies categorization in his crestfallen, often moving portrayal of a woman who loves her sons, but feels dejected from them. It’s the comedic tour de force of the year and one that should bring many gifts for seasons to come.
Essential Episode: “Easter in Bakersfield”, dir. Jonathan Krisel
After running down a list of blessings she finds herself surrounded by in the beginning of season 3, Maura Pfefferman asks her friend, “So, why am I so miserable?” Thus beginning a typically extraordinary season of Amazon’s groundbreaking series “Transparent”.
“Why am I so miserable?”
Over the course of ten new episodes, we discover why our flawed but wholly relatable Pfefferman clan are feeling all the feelings. A show that itself is so big on feelings, it threatens to explode at any moment, “Transparent” has always been a series about asking the big questions in small ways. Using a religious backdrop to question our existence, our mortality and who we are as human beings, Jill Soloway’s series is one of soul-bearing and soul-crushing honesty.
While last years time-traveling second season remains the gold standard for the series, this season still managed to improve on so many levels. One of the biggest joys of this season came from being able to spend even more time with Kathryn Hahn’s rabbi Raquel. One of the very best actresses working today, Hahn deserves every moment she gets on screen in the third season. Another fantastic improvement over previous seasons is gaining more insight into just how privileged Maura is as a trans woman living an upper class lifestyle in Los Angeles. Not only is Maura (Jeffrey Tambor) forced to face off against her own privilege but so is Josh (Jay Duplass) in a heart-shattering episode featuring a brutally honest performance from trans actress Trace Lysette.
But what makes this season truly work is the way Solloway and her team are able to continuously pose the question of “Why are we the way that we are?” Looking to the past once again in the season highlight, Andrea Arnold’s “If I Were A Bell”, the show posits even more questions about identity. It’s never been more pleasurable to watch self-absorbed Angelenos grapple with life’s biggest questions.
“You’re waiting for a miracle. You’re waiting for the sea to part. Well, that’s an old miracle. So what about this. What if the miracle was you? What if you had to be your own messiah? Then what?”
We’re always looking deeper for answers. We make mistakes. We fall down. We get back up. We try. All we can do is try. The characters on “Transparent” are always victim of humor error. They want, they need, they they love, they want love, they try. They’re people at their best and their worst. Their most raw. Their most loving. Their most spiteful. Their most resentful. Their most selfish. And through her miracle of a series, Solloway gives us a deeper insight into what makes us human.
Essential Episode: “If I Were A Bell”, dir. Andrea Arnold
“It’s sad that it’s so hard to show your feelings when you really want to.”
I’ve been acting since I was a little boy. I’ve been training professionally since I was 17. I fell in love with plays when I was 18 and I read Kenneth Lonergan’s famous work “This Is Our Youth”. Reading plays taught me how to write. It taught me how to act. It taught me a lot. You can curl up with a good play and get lost in it the same way you can with a great novel or a great film. With Louis C.K.’s “Horace and Pete”, C.K. brought the experience and thrill of live theater to the small screen.
Set almost entirely on a sound stage in New York revolving around two brothers who own a bar and the lives they interact with on a daily basis, “Horace and Pete” is nothing short of brilliant storytelling. It’s so much more than just a television series. It’s more than a play. It’s a treasure. It’s something so special, you almost can’t bear to rewatch it, because you don’t want to taint that experience of the first time you experienced it. Its heart is so gentle, it’s soul is so bare. It’s Louis C.K. raw and unfiltered. It’s everything he’s got inside of him and then some. You feel everything he’s feeling as his words are delivered by an ensemble of character actors and television veterans alike.
And what an ensemble it is. From the extraordinary Edie Falco to the brilliantly cast Alan Alda to Steve Buscemi in the best work of his career, here’s a show that loves its characters and a director who loves the actors he’s working with. Every single breathing moment of “Horace and Pete” is one that should be cherished and treasured for decades to come. At a time when we’re seeing so much “product” pop up on our screens, here comes a show that’s unafraid to be slow. That’s unafraid to be somber. To depress us. To hit us right in the gut with its honesty. To tear our hearts out and leave us standing in the dust. To not give us the closure we yearn for. It’s a show that’s so unvarnished, so messy, so alive and just so goddamn brilliant, it’s hard to even qualify it as a TV show. It truly is a work of art by one of the most important and original voices to emerge in our lifetime.
Essential Episodes: “Episodes 3, 6, 9”, dir. Louis C.K.
I remember watching HBO’s mini-series “The Night Of” and wondering A. “How the fuck did anyone write something this good?” and B. “When will I be able to write this well?” Then I realized Richard Price has been writing crime fiction since the 1970’s and well, he’s had some experience.
“The Night Of” is the kind of show that somebody makes later in their career. It’s something so effortlessly magnificent and so light with the touch, it provides the kind of envy I felt while watching it. “How does one get to this level?” With a lot of experience and a lot of failure. Richard Price has cemented himself as one of the great crime writers through a series of novels, screenplays and adaptations. “The Night Of” is his grand opus. It’s the thing he’s been working towards his entire career. It doesn’t feel like television. It feels like a great novel come to life.
It’s artful and sincere storytelling of the highest caliber. Price and director Steven Zaillian tell an 8 episode story with the scope of a grand epic. It touches on institutionalized racism, corruption, anti-Muslim fervor, the American judicial system, addiction, our prisons and what it means to be a person of color in the United States today. It couldn’t be more timeless or more timely. It’s a story about a man fighting to be respected in a world that looks down on him. It’s a distinctly American story about people living in America right now.
There are moments in “The Night Of” that rank with the best in television history and is a miniseries high point for HBO and miniseries themselves. It provides the great John Turturro with the role of a lifetime. His attorney John Stone is somebody we all know. The guy on the bus ad’s we laugh at. The opportunist we mock. But we get to see him become human. We get to see him rise above the trenches of what he represents and become somebody respectable. He gets to be a person. Not just a face on a bus stop. What Turturro conveys in just a quiet moment in bed, an early morning sigh, a blank slate on the train is something most actors dream of conveying in entire roles. He’s as effortless as the writing and directing. They’re a trifecta of brilliance, all helping and shaping each other, complimenting each other the way Sorkin, Fincher and Eisenberg did in “The Social Network”.
None of this is to say the rest of the stellar ensemble isn’t anything less than fantastic. Veteran character actor Bill Camp gets his biggest role yet as the compromised and on the verge of retirement Detective Box. In fact, most of the cast is sprinkled with veteran character actors doing top-notch work in their largest roles yet. From Camp to Jeannie Berlin to Paul Sparks’ appearance as a shady stepdad with hidden motives.
But at the center of it all, the connecting thread is Riz Ahmed’s tragic figure, Nasir Khan. Ahmed has quickly climbed the ranks and joined contemporaries Adam Driver and Oscar Isaac as being one of the most fascinating and watchable actors of his generation. Watching his character morph from a quiet student with a shy demeanor to a hardened criminal is truly marvelous. In one particular scene where Ahmed is alone in his cell, high as hell and just as lonely, he laughs quietly to himself. The pain masked by laughter in this scene is a two-hander from Ahmed and Zaillian. It’s the simplicity of moments like this that made “The Night Of” something more than true crime. It became a series about of all things, the triumph of the human spirit. You know, that cheesy, clichéd thing Oscar hopefuls champion every awards season. Well, it’s not always cheesy and cliché. It can move us, it can challenge us, it can awaken us. “The Night Of” is a series that thrills us and entertains us, but it also casts a light on our judicial system in a complex way we haven’t quite seen from any other television series. It’s the finest show of 2016.
Essential Episodes: “On the Beach” & “Call of the Wild”, dir. Steven Zaillian
