There may be no one at the office the next day whoâs watching the same show you are, so consider this collection of memorable episodes from 2018, presented alphabetically by series, your virtual watercooler. â MIKE HALE
âAtlantaâ: âTeddy Perkinsâ
Fame, in âAtlanta,â has been a fantasy, a disappointment, an elusive taunt. This time, itâs a gothic horror story. The eccentric title character (Donald Glover, encased in ghoulish prosthetics) haunts a mansion that serves as a shrine and a prison for his brother, a once-renowned musician. Itâs also a museum, honoring Teddyâs father â represented in the form of a faceless mannequin â who tormented his sons toward greatness (like the fathers of Michael Jackson and Marvin Gaye, both mentioned in the episode). Itâs a poignant, creepy showcase for deadpan Lakeith Stanfield and for Glover, who depicted entertainment culture as a mask for nightmares in âThis Is America,â and here plays a monster made out of dreams. (Watch on FX Plus.) â JAMES PONIEWOZIK
âThe Americansâ: âSTARTâ
Equal parts tragic and tense, the series finale for âThe Americansâ pulled off the nearly impossible: a conclusion that felt startling but appropriate. Complete. We knew there would have to be some kind of reckoning between the Jenningses and Stan, but it could have been violent or unhinged or less truthful. What we got was a standoff in a parking garage, with Stan pointing his gun at Philip, Elizabeth and Paige, his surrogate family, his best friends. I thought he might shoot them, and then I thought he might shoot himself. But enough people have died on âThe Americansâ for the characters to know that death isnât always a punishment, and it certainly isnât the harshest one. The rending of oneâs identity â not being able to be who you were before, to know who you knew, to love who you loved, to trust your own thoughts, to have a cohesive and continuing story of yourself â creates a permanent wound. Itâs one Philip and Elizabeth grappled with for the entire series, and one they inflicted on their children and on Stan. (Watch on FX Plus.) â MARGARET LYONS
âBig Mouthâ: âThe Planned Parenthood Showâ
The raunchy animated puberty-com has always been more sweet and insightful than its hormone-drenched premise might lead you to believe. Here, it became a downright public service. When well-meaning ignoramus Coach Steve (Nick Kroll) is assigned to teach sex-ed, his students end up taking over the lesson with sketches, fantasy sequences and parodies. (These include a âBachelor"-style reality show in which a condom, an IUD and other options compete with âthe pullout methodâ to become a teenagerâs contraception method of choice.) The story of terminating an unplanned pregnancy â scored entirely to, and reprising the video of, âGroove Is in the Heartâ by Deee-Lite â made for a couple of the most ingenious, and oddly heartwarming, minutes of TV this year. (Watch on Netflix.) â JAMES PONIEWOZIK
âBobâs Burgersâ: âJust One of the Boyz 4 Now for Nowâ
Ever-optimistic Tina meets the latest love of her life (âIâm not boy-crazy, Iâm boy-focusedâ), and to see him again she has to disguise herself and sneak into auditions for a struggling boy band. Of course. âBobâs Burgersâ is a model of consistency in its writing and delineation of its characters, a family of lovable misfits who run a diner you probably wouldnât want to eat at, and any number of episodes could have made this list. The Season 9 premiere gets the nod for its closing musical number, in which Tina rides a unicorn while musing on âthe right number of boysâ in a girlâs life. (Watch on Fox.com and Hulu.) â MIKE HALE
âBoJack Horsemanâ: âFree Churroâ
This is the best episode of anything I saw in 2018. Itâs a distillation of everything âBoJack Horsemanâ does right: A genius articulation of misery thatâs never more than a few seconds from a 10/10 joke, and an experiment in form and structure. âFree Churroâ is a 25-minute monologue, with BoJack eulogizing his awful mother, whom he hated and who hated him right back. He acknowledges their mutual bitterness, his fatherâs grave shortcomings and cruelty, his frustrations. The speech is full of haunting and hilarious and memorable lines, but most telling is BoJackâs digression about his â90s sitcom, âHorsinâ Around,â a vintage schlockola show in the vein of âFull Houseâ or âFamily Matters.â
âYou canât have happy endings in sitcoms, not really, because, if everyoneâs happy, the show would be over, and above all else, the show has to keep going,â BoJack says. Thatâs what he really thinks, but itâs completely wrong â all you have are happy endings on those shows, everything always works out. People hug, people forgive. Happy family homeostasis. Thanks to his terrible parents and their terrible parents and whoever else, BoJack doesnât see things that way; if all life is sadness, then at least sadness is life.
âYou can never get a happy ending, âcause thereâs always more show,â he says. Maybe thatâs only true for BoJack. And âBoJack.â (Watch on Netflix.) â MARGARET LYONS
âThe Bridgeâ: âSeason 4, Episode 8â
Swedish actress Sofia Helin gave an uncompromising performance as a damaged, obsessional detective across the four seasons of this Danish-Swedish twist on the buddy-cop series. She also burned her characterâs habitual cellphone salutation â âSaga NorĂ©n, LĂ€nskrim Malmö,â identifying herself as a member of the Malmo criminal investigation division â into the brains of TV viewers in 160 countries. The series finale, written by the showâs creator, Hans Rosenfeldt, put the perfect cap on her portrayal, in a moment that was simple, predictable and utterly moving. (Watch on Hulu.) â MIKE HALE
âCastle Rockâ: âThe Queenâ
This puzzle-series pastiche of Stephen King had its finest hour with its study of Ruth Deaver (Sissy Spacek), a woman lost in the corridors of dementia. While many TV episodes these days play with four-dimensional narratives and unreliable perceptions, âThe Queenâ stayed heartbreakingly grounded in character by anchoring itself in Ruthâs point of view. As we drift from present to past, from sweetness to tragedy, we are tethered to reality, along with Ruth, by the markers she set for herself: the chess pieces (from a reproduction of the beautiful Lewis chessmen) that sheâs scattered around her home like a breadcrumb trail. Spacek is measured and devastating as she takes us on a tour of Ruthâs life, pausing every once in a while to light on one of the game pieces and their quiet message: âI was here.â (Watch on Hulu.) â JAMES PONIEWOZIK
âGLOWâ: âThe Good Twinâ
TV shows about TV shows often give you only a taste of what their fictional creations are like. (Think of the tiny glimpses of âTGSâ on â30 Rock.â) But this full-length faux episode of the basic-cable womenâs wrestling series, shot in ready-for-VHS standard definition (with a 1980s soundtrack and graphics to match), delivered wonderfully. âThe Good Twinâ â the title comes from a soap-operatic twist that gives Alison Brieâs Soviet wrestling heel character a twin sister â was an entertaining novelty on its own. But befitting the showâs fixation on role-playing as liberation, the faux-"GLOWâ also advances the story line by showing how each character has poured herself into her wrestling alter ego. (Watch on Netflix.) â JAMES PONIEWOZIK
âThe Good Placeâ: âJanet(s)â
DâArcy Carden, DâArcy Carden, DâArcy Carden, DâArcy Carden, DâArcy Carden! This afterlife comedyâs not-so-secret weapon outdid herself in this showcase by playing her own character and four of the showâs leads. (Cardenâs character, Janet, is an artificial intelligence possessed of infinite knowledge who inadvertently transforms the characters into her image by â you know what, Iâm not going to explain it. Watch the show if youâre not already.) A tour de force performance, yes, but also proof that this series has written its characters so well, they can be present even when the actors who play them are absent. (Watch on NBC.com and Hulu.) â JAMES PONIEWOZIK
âJane the Virginâ: âChapter 81â
âJane the Virginâ pulled off the twist of the year in its season finale, an episode that openly announced its theme as surprise! â and yet still totally surprised me. There was so much to adore in this episode, too: Albaâs citizenship ceremony and impromptu wedding; Alba, Rogelio and Xiomara getting all misty when Rafael asks for their blessing before he and Jane get engaged; the perfectly clever cliffhanger hashtag #JRShotWho, after JR shot an unseen assailant. How foolish I was to think that was the big shocker for the episode. No, instead, in the final moment, when I was all whipped up into an âis Rafael going to propose to Jane, or is Jane going to propose to Rafaelâ frenzy, there was back-from-the-dead Michael. (Or so it seems. You never can tell on a telenovela.) Iâm Team Rafael forever, but even I screamed. On another show it might have felt like a cheap move. But âJane the Virginâ is among the most emotionally literate series of all time, and I trust it to be a careful steward of my weak, fallible heart. (Watch on CW.com and Netflix.) â MARGARET LYONS
âKiddingâ: âKintsugiâ
Frank Langella, formerly the secret weapon of âThe Americans,â segued seamlessly into the same role on âKidding,â where he plays the seemingly button-down, business-minded manager-father of the childrenâs TV star, Mr. Pickles, played by Jim Carrey. The first seasonâs seventh episode, named after a Japanese process for repairing broken pottery, typified the showâs narrative quirkiness: a scene on the set of Japanese âMr. Pickles,â a Christmas toy store riot, an office-destroying meltdown. At its heart was a family Thanksgiving that went terribly wrong, and that in two brief moments â a dirty anecdote and a shouted expletive â was totally stolen by Langella. (Watch on Sho.com.) â MIKE HALE
âNanetteâ and âKid Gorgeousâ
Iâm cheating, since these arenât episodes but rather stand-up specials, but theyâre two of my favorite things I saw this year. âNanetteâ is Hannah Gadsbyâs searing piece that deconstructs stand-up, rejects the patriarchy and reclaims personal trauma narratives â but, like, funny sometimes. âKid Gorgeousâ is John Mulaneyâs exquisitely polished act that includes the instant-classic segment comparing Donald Trumpâs presidency to a horse being trapped in a hospital. (Watch on Netflix.) â MARGARET LYONS
âSchittâs Creekâ: âOpen Micâ
âSchittâs Creekâ is a show in balance, one where nuttiness is grounded by thoughtfulness, where chronic insults are soothed by consistent support. Never was this more sweetly depicted than in âOpen Mic,â where Davidâs doting and lovable boyfriend Patrick suggests they throw an open mic night at Davidâs store, to drum up some additional buzz and business. David squirms and demurs. âWorst-case scenario, we get some people in the store!â Patrick says. âNo, worst-case scenario, I watch improv,â David replies. In the end, the plan works, the store is packed, and Patrick serenades David with a truly lovely acoustic cover of âSimply the Best.â It was one of the most romantic, adorable moments on TV this year. Awww. (Watch on Netflix.) â MARGARET LYONS
âThe X-Filesâ: âThe Lost Art of Forehead Sweatâ
While the revival seasons of âThe X-Filesâ were, broadly, not great, âThe Lost Art of Forehead Sweatâ is one of the best episodes the series ever aired. Of course itâs written by Darin Morgan, who wrote many of the original runâs best episodes, too. Thereâs a cheeky mischievousness to Morganâs episodes, and here that manifests as a looping narrative and an unreliable yet compelling whistleblower known as Reggie Something. Mulder and Scully learn about the Mandela Effect â a collective misremembering named for the weirdly common false memory that Nelson Mandela died in the â90s â and are faced with the fallibility of their memories, something the show addresses with both humor and genuine depth. This episode is what happens when âthe truth is out thereâ and âtrust no oneâ bump up against bogus cries of âfake newsâ and maybe aliens. (Watch on Fox.com and Hulu.) â MARGARET LYONS
This article originally appeared in The New York Times.