Top Television of 2023 (Part 2)
It’s January here at Do You Know What I Love The Most?, and that means it’s time to sum up the last 12 months with Year End Lists! I’ll be devoting the rest of this month to rounding up and discussing the various media released in 2023 that meant the most to me — just like every other website on the internet! Isn’t that special?
Today we’re going to talk about the best TV shows of 2023! And damn, was this a good year for television, or what? Despite both a writers strike and an actors strike, it felt like there was more good TV than ever this year. I’ve never had a harder time narrowing my shortlist down to 12 entries — in fact, I couldn’t, and settled for 13 — and even then, despite watching way more TV than I ever expected this year, I still didn’t have time to get to it all (The Last Of Us and Beef remained just out of reach on my “To Watch” list all year; I couldn’t binge through all of Reservation Dogs in time for the final season, but I sure as hell still intend to).
I guess what I’m saying is, as always, this is not meant to be a definitive list of the best out there, because I simply cannot and have not watched it all. These are simply the shows released in 2023 that caught my attention and/or tugged at my heartstrings the most throughout the year, in no particular order. Enjoy!
Due to size restrictions for these emails, we discussed Part 1 of this list on Wednesday.
Sex Education (Netflix)
A lot changed about Sex Education over its four seasons, but if there’s one thing that always remained constant, it’s the show’s belief that understanding more about sex helps you understand more about people. The Netflix dramedy about a young man who opens up a sex-therapy clinic at his high school has a rather explicit goal of explaining and normalizing sex in all its forms and difficulties to viewers, but achieving this goal also opens up a brilliant new avenue for exploring its characters that Sex Education never fails to take advantage of. In fact, I’d say the show’s greatest strength is that it cares so much about every character it introduces, even the villains and guest stars; the cast is constantly expanding because the show sees the potential in the flawed humanity in them all, the potential for every character to be a protagonist, to be your new favorite. As I reminisce fondly about Sex Education now that it’s concluded its run, what I’m going to miss more than anything else is its brilliant, idiosyncratic cast of characters: Amy, who despite not being the brightest, is consistently the kindest and most astute person in the room; Adam, who grows so much and whose pathological awkwardness and lack of ambition is always treated with genuine compassion; brave fiery Maeve, the genius who hides her wounded heart behind a tough-as-nails exterior, but who eventually learns to love herself thanks to the love she receives from others; Eric, who transcends being the gay sidekick to instead become one of the most complex and fully realized gay characters in young adult fiction1. I wept throughout much of Sex Education’s final episode as it gave these beloved characters the send-offs they deserved, especially the core trio of Otis, Eric, and Maeve, who are all able to put aside their differences and acknowledge how much they mean to each other, even if their relationships will never be exactly the same again. It’s a bittersweet ending and a real loss of youth moment for these characters, who are finally growing into the brilliant adults they’re destined to become, and I couldn’t think of a better note to end this series on.
Doom Patrol ([HBO] Max)
Doom Patrol knows the value of a good ending. Its final stretch of episodes weren’t just a tearful goodbye to the cast of deeply wounded, eccentric, wannabe superheroes the series collected over its four seasons; they were an ode to the importance of endings. This is made especially clear in its tearjerker series finale. For some characters, like Jane or Cyborg, an ending is a chance at a new beginning, but for characters like Larry or Rita, who had already lived lifetimes, sometimes the end is a welcome relief; then there’s Cliff, poor Cliff, who has to learn to find peace in the ending he’s given, not the ending he wanted. It’s a finale that’s beautiful, hopeful, and heartbreaking in equal measure, but it’s also a story that’s teaching its viewers how to say goodbye to it as it says goodbye to them in return; it’s the kind of meta touch only show like Doom Patrol, in all its absurd glory, could pull off. This season wasn’t just about goodbyes, of course, but the writers knowing they were working towards a concrete ending did seem to inject this final season with an extra bit of something, and this last batch of episodes that aired in 2024 especially were as weird and absurd, sad and heartfelt and deeply affecting, as anything the show has ever done. The episode that especially stood out to me was “Immortimas Patrol” — quite possibly my favorite episode of any television show to air in 2023 — which finds the Doom Patrol trapped in a holiday themed musical and facing down an omnipotent, immortal god taken the form of a spoiled, no-talent theater-kid named Isabel — it’s patently absurd, absolutely hilarious, and uses its off-the-wall premise to do some serious character work and bring about genuinely affecting climaxes to every character’s ongoing arc. There’s no other show out there quite like Doom Patrol, and I’m going to miss it dearly — but thank god it got to end on its own terms.
The Other Two ([HBO] Max)
Though The Other Two — the HBO Max comedy following the two fame-obsessed older siblings of a YouTube superstar in their quest for relevancy — has always featured rather absurd humor, its third and final season was the year it finally dipped into full-on magical realism, showing how non-celebrities literally disappear in the presence of celebrities, trapping Cary and Brooke in the screening of a play that lasts for days and has people brushing their teeth and going to sleep in their beds in the crowd, and sending Brook to space! It’s a perfect evolution of The Other Two’s pre-existing sense of humor and Hollywood satire, but it’s also a much needed contrast to the season’s dramatic storylines, which take Cary and Brooke to some truly dark places. For all its absurdity, The Other Two knows just how to stab you in the heart, and watching Cary and Brooke lose their souls to feed their own vanity and fight off their insecurities is legitimately bleak and upsetting (Brooke and Lance’s break-up is shot like a Noah Baumbach movie, not a comedy!). It all leads to a surprise series finale that is truly something special, a quiet and meditative installment that finds our two leads crawling out of the holes they’ve dug for themselves, reconnecting with the people who matter most, and even making new connections in new communities for maybe the first time ever. Brooke finds a way to stay in the entertainment industry without losing herself while Cary seemingly leaves it behind, and that’s such a balanced and complex view of an industry that The Other Two has mercilessly lambasted as often as it’s lovingly homaged. This was such a smart, insightful show, and almost always the goddamn funniest thing on television; I’m gonna miss it like crazy (and, God, I’m gonna miss Lance).
The Bear (Hulu)
I almost didn’t stick with The Bear. At its outset, the Hulu drama2 about a Michelin Star chef trying to save his deceased brother’s Chicago sandwich shop was loud and chaotic and unpleasant — as I finished its first episode I thought to myself, “how do people live like this?!” — but it needed to start out this way so that we could truly understand the grief these characters were all carrying, and so that it really meant something when they started to band together and open up to each other. The Bear’s second season was a bit of a strange beast, often splitting up the cast for very different spotlight adventures (aside from its Christmas episode, a brilliantly made hour of terror that I will never be able to watch again), but in doing so it revealed a whole new agenda; if Season One was about these characters trying, and failing, and trying again to come together as a family and save Richie’s restaurant, then Season Two was about the transformation of both the restaurant and its crew into something better, elevated versions of themselves. There’s something undeniably pure and powerful about watching Marcus help a stranger in Amsterdam, or Sydney sample new foods across Chicago, or Richie fall in love with the art of hospitality and finally find something he’s good at. This second season truly understands and highlights the artistry of cooking and the way that kind of artistic outlet can change people’s lives, and that’s like catnip for me. That those themes are wrapped up in some truly compelling drama, dark but genuine laughs, and flawed and compelling characters played by some of today’s hottest actors is just the icing on the cake. I’m so glad I gave The Bear the chance to win me over.
Scott Pilgrim Takes Off (Netflix)
No show surprised me more this year than Scott Pilgrim Takes Off, Netflix’s new animated adaptation of the Scott Pilgrim comic books and movies by creator Bryan Lee O’Malley and BenDavid Grabinski. From its very first episode, Takes Off threw a wrench into everything I thought I knew about Scott Pilgrim; making Ramona the series’ lead character grants it an entirely new perspective, revealing new facets of each and every character now that we’re no longer seeing them through Scott’s eyes. This is especially true for the Evil Exes, who are granted lives outside of their crusade to break up Scott and Ramona, and come out much stronger characters for it. In many ways this is still the same Scott Pilgrim I know and love — it’s set in the same magically realistic Toronto, features all the same characters (all voiced by their actors from the movie), shares the same sense of humor, same killer soundtrack and video game aesthetic, and explores the same themes of personal responsibility, confronting your past, and choosing to grow as a person — but it’s that same beloved story told in an entirely new way, with entirely new twists and turns, and it’s positively exhilarating. It’s also an adaptation about adaptations, never afraid to poke fun at itself and all the silly shit it’s pulling off without ever undermining itself, and it’s a hoot. The animation, handled by studio Science Saru, is also some of the very best I saw all year, with a hazy, sweet take on the slice-of-life sequences that suddenly shifts into these unbelievably fluid, kinetic, off-the-wall bonkers action sequences (Matthew and Gideon’s battle for control of the League and Ramona and Roxy fighting their way through various Hollywood blockbusters are both jaw-dropping highlights). I never could have predicted Scott Pilgrim Takes Off; what a rare, unexpected joy that a series like this exists.
(I wrote blind recaps of each episode of Scott Pilgrim Takes Off when it premiered, which can be found here.)
Blue Eye Samurai (Netflix)
Blue Eye Samurai, the Netflix anime-inspired animated series from Michael Green, Amber Noizumi, and Studio Blue Spirit, starts out with a deceptively simple premise — in an era where Japan’s borders are closed and outsiders are persecuted, a mixed-race Samurai named Mizu seeks revenge against the last remaining white men in Japan — but sells the absolute hell out of that simple premise with some of the most relentless, brutal, unflinching action sequences to ever be animated. As its first episode goes on, though, you start to notice a recurring theme. It’s there in Ringo, the disabled cook who wants to be Mizu’s apprentice. It’s there in Princess Akemi, who longs for the autonomy denied to her as a woman. It’s even there in Mizu, who has been tortured and hunted because of his blue eyes and white father. And then you get to the big twist at the end of the first episode, and everything becomes crystal clear; Blue Eye Samurai is a classic tale about the soul-corroding dangers of revenge, but it’s a take that’s told from the perspective of those without power or status, of those who society ignores, controls, or deems as outcasts. Even the first episode’s Brothel scene — which I initially mistook for your typical anime fan service3 — quickly turns into a subplot exploring how prostitution was one of the only viable career options for women at the time. It’s such a smart, novel take that sets Blue Eye Samurai apart as something truly special. And again, it’s also executed perfectly, not just on the animation side, but the acting as well — just about every notable Asian/Asian-American actor in Hollywood shows up at one point or another, and all bring their A-Game, but I was especially excited to hear Masi Oka (Hiro from Heroes!) and absolutely flabbergasted when a practically unrecognizable Brenda Song (Suite Life with Zack and Cody) showed up to fucking knock the role of Akemi out of the park. Blue Eye Samurai has already been renewed for a second season, and I’ve got all my fingers and toes crossed that I’ll get to follow Mizu’s story for years to come; it’s something special.
Do You Know What I Love the Most’s “Best Of 2023” series:
2023: A Year In Review
Top Albums of 2023
Top Comics of 2023 (Part 1)
Top Comics of 2023 (Part 2)
Top Television of 2023 (Part 1)
Top Television of 2023 (Part 2)
Top Movies of 2023 (Part 1)
Top Movies of 2023 (Part 2)
2023: A Playlist
To read previous “Best Of” entries for 2020-2022, click this link to browse the directory!
ABOUT
“Do You Know What I Love the Most?” is a newsletter from Spencer Irwin about his relationship with the stories he loves. Spencer is an enthusiast and writer from Newark, Delaware, who likes punk rock, comic books, working out, breakfast, and most of all, stories. His previous work appeared on Retcon Punch, One Week One Band, and Crisis on Infinite Chords, and he can be found on Twitter at @ThatSpenceGuy. If you like this newsletter, please subscribe and share with your friends!
Eric’s actor, Ncuti Gatwa, is clearly the breakout star of Sex Education, as it helped win him the role of the newest Doctor in Doctor Who, as we talked about in Part 1 of this list.
The Bear is officially classified as a Comedy, but while it can often be funny, there is zero reason to call this show a comedy aside from its half-hour run time.
From experience, let me warn you not to turn this show on at your family’s Thanksgiving celebration.