The 16 Best TV Shows of 2025 (So Far)

1. “#1 Happy Family USA” Season 1 (Prime Video)

Either you balked at the concept of an animated series set in post-9/11 America through the eyes of a Muslim-American 12-year-old (and many executives did) — or you’re familiar with the work of Ramy Youssef and couldn’t watch it fast enough.

Youssef and “South Park” scribe Pam Brady teamed up for this eccentric, edgy, and lethally hilarious series about the Hussein family and their precarious attempts to blend in while the country they love turns on everyone who looks like them. If it sounds cultural heady, don’t worry: it’s not, for young Rumi (Youssef) has bigger concerns than racism and Islamophobia — he needs to illegally download songs for a playlist to woo his crush; or take hormones so he can grow pubes by sunrise; or rise high enough on the “Cousin Leaderboard” to finally gain some respect from his neurotic father Hussein (also Youssef).

From Rumi and Hussein to mother Sharia (Salma Hindy) and sister Mona (Alia Shawkat) and even their TV-loving teta (Randa Jarrar) — not to mention guest stars Kieran Culkin, Mandy Moore, Timothy Olyphant, and more — the Husseins’ misadventures show that they are just as loving, ambitious, and harmlessly loony as anyone else on the block. What’s more American than that? —PK

2. “Adolescence” (Netflix)

There’s an old Scorsese quote about editing, and that people tend to think it’s good when they notice the cuts, but editing is truly great when people don’t notice the cuts at all. There’s a very similar principle at work in “Adolescence,” as each of the four episodes in the Netflix miniseries created by Stephen Graham and Jack Thorne is shot as a single, continuous take; but the show tries its hardest not to mine drama or spectacle from the approach itself, or even to draw too much attention to it at all. “Adolescence” brings out what great long takes actually do to an audience: make us nervous without offering any outlet for relief. 

The miniseries has perfectly married form and content because there’s a lot to be nervous, if not devastated, about in the fallout after 13-year-old Jamie (Owen Cooper) murders one of his classmates, Katie (Emilia Holliday). Rather than a whodunit or a breathlessly titillating true-crime rehash of the violent event, “Adolescence” focuses an unflinching gaze into not only Jamie but the lives of Jamie’s family, the teachers and kids at his school, the police behind the arrest, and the adults who assess and monitor children in Britain’s juvenile detention system. What drove Jamie to murder Katie? Who is to blame? What can be done to stop the abject loneliness and despair both kids and adults feel in the age of red pill emojis and callous Instagram comments? 

“Adolescence” doesn’t have the answers, but it doesn’t let us look away. In the process, Graham, Thorn, director Philip Barantini, and the entire cast and crew put together one of the most outstanding, assured, and necessary stories of 2025. —SS

3. “Andor” Season 2 (Disney+)

I’ve been trying to get a friend to watch “Andor” but running into a problem. When this “Rogue One” prequel series about the adventures that led rebel intelligence operative Cassian Andor (Diego Luna) to be in place to steal the Death Star plans, there wasn’t really a ton of hype about it — let alone the rapturous critical consensus that the Disney+ series is the most compelling “Star Wars” project since the original trilogy. Now, there are a lot of us insufferable nerds ranting about creator Tony Gilroy and his team’s work transposing the mechanics of fascism and imperialism onto a galaxy far, far away. The expectations bar has gotten quite high. Going into something that brands itself as “Star Wars for grown-ups” could feel like homework. 

But my friend and yours should watch “Andor” because it isn’t homework at all. In Season 2, traps are set and infiltrations are executed with a precision that would turn clockmakers green with envy. The show’s creative team continues to create gorgeous, lived-in, grounded environments and do visual worldbuilding that elevates the story, not just check boxes for YouTube Easter Egg videos. Each member of the show’s ensemble gets a moment to give a startling performance, quite a feat given the state of play in “Rogue One” the show needs to build towards. And Gilroy and his team’s adaptation of “Star Wars” masterfully demonstrates how structures of power act on both individuals and communities in a way that feels timeless and contemporary, as good science fiction should. —SS 

4. “Common Side Effects” (Adult Swim)

The plot of “Common Side Effects” will sound pretty common itself, if not downright simplistic in comparison to the trash fire that is our real-life healthcare system. Marshall Cuso (Dave King), an altruistic mycologist with an apparent allergy to buttons, finds a miracle mushroom that could cure almost all of humanity’s ills; but his wanting to give it away to everyone, for free, prompt the Powers That Be (government, giant corporations, and other monied interests) to put a target on his back and a bounty on his head. Thus, Marshall — along with his pet turtle Socrates, of course — has to run for it, enlisting help from a former lab partner (Emily Pendergast) he doesn’t know works for the Big Pharma CEO (Mike Judge) who is endangering the mushrooms in the first place. It’s classic thriller stuff. 

But co-creators Joseph Bennett and Steve Hely are up to so much more than that, and the world of “Common Side Effects” is so much weirder, funnier, more poignant, and more human than the paranoia of a good conspiracy. The art style blends a very ’90s, high school slacker animation with moments of jittery surrealism and a beautiful, cornucopian strangeness of which Hayao Miyazaki would surely approve. The combination makes the show simultaneously feel like something you’ve already devoured on a dorm room couch and like nothing you’ve ever seen. “Common Side Effects” bounces between the familiar and the unknown, between the absurd and the true, between its heightened premise and the realities of the mad world in which we actually live. The show’s refusal to be just one thing is what makes it, the questions it’s asking, and the characters (even shitty VR-obsessed boyfriends) that it so clearly loves feel human. If other shows could find the same joy and interest in human beings, it wouldn’t cure everything that’s going on, but it sure would be a start. —SS

4. “Dying for Sex” (FX)

Kim Rosenstock and Liz Meriwether’s limited series about a dying woman trying to perfect her orgasm had no right to be as emotionally nuanced and hilarious as it was — but neither did the true life exploits of Molly Kochan (played by Michelle Williams).

Adapted from the late Kochan’s podcast with best friend Nikki Boyer (played by Jenny Slate, with the real Boyer serving as executive producer), it’s up there with the best shows that tackle sex, because it also tackles love; the withering bond between Molly and her husband (Jay Duplass), the stirrings of affection with her booty call neighbor (Rob Delaney), and the fierce, beautiful, unconditional love between Molly and Nikki. With oustanding performances (Esco Jouléy! Sissy Spacek!), outrageous situations, and meticulous empathy for its subjects, it’s one of the most satisfying pieces of television this year (pun intended). —PK

5. “Forever” Season 1 (Netflix)

Maybe one of the reasons that Mara Brock Akil’s modern-day adaptation of the Judy Blume novel works is because you never forget your first love — but I’d argue that “Forever” shines extra bright because it also makes you remember every other.

As Keisha (Lovie Simone) and Justin (Michael Cooper Jr.) navigate the highs and lows of their serious relationship, they hit on experiences that transcend time and age and labels to tap into something deeper emotionally. Simone and Cooper propel the story, leading a cast that includes Xosha Roquemore, Karen Pittman, Marvin Lawrence Winans III, Wood Harris, and more. Some people experience every romantic first together; others hit different landmarks with different partners, or crushes, or even less defined roles, but “Forever” captures every spark and thrill and tiny swerve of the heart along the way. Even if it’s not forever, that doesn’t make it any less of a love story — and this serious knows that through and through. —PK

7. “The Last of Us” Season 2 (HBO)

You might argue that this installment of Craig Mazin and Neil Druckmann’s superb video game adaptation is half a season — but what a half season if so.

Set years after “The Last of Us” (two years for viewers and five for the characters), the series picked up effortlessly with Joel (Pedro Pascal) and Ellie (Bella Ramsay) living in the closest thing their world has to a society while also barely on speaking terms. What drastic events occurred offscreen to strain the show’s beating heart to its very limits? That’s the question Season 2 started with before digging deeper in every regard.

The ensemble expanded with knockout additions like Catherine O’Hara, Isabella Merced, Caitlyn Dever, Young Mazino, and more of Season 1’s Gabriel Luna, driving up the emotional stakes of the collective while keeping Joel and Ellie firmly in focus. The seven episodes seamlessly balance young love, witty banter, aching distance, and of course immeasurable grief — all of it circling the unspeakable violence enacted by and upon Joel and now casting its shadow on Abby (Dever) and Ellie.

The season also delivered for those watching to see more of the infected, with hundreds rising out of the snow to lay siege to Jackson and new spores to threaten the show’s entire world. It’s impressive enough to set a show after the end of the world with all the production and visual demands of a setting like this one (whether in a video game or its TV adaptation) — it’s downright magnificent to do so with as much human heart as this series. —PK

8. “Mo” Season 2 (Netflix)

There’s never been a better time to watch “Mo” than right now. Centered around a Palestinian family in Houston, on the cusp of finally getting their asylum status granted, the Netflix series picks up in Season 2 with Mo (Mo Amer) still trapped on the wrong side of the border in Mexico after he and a bunch of olive trees were lightly kidnapped at the end of Season 1. It wades headlong into the absurdities of the American immigration system from there. “Mo” is still foremost a comedy — and joyously so, from its whip-smart dialogue to Mo’s genre-bending daydreams to an absurdly accurate “Shawshank Redemption” spoof. But Amer and his team imbue the series with a complexity and a deeply humane interest in people. The show’s perspective can’t help but feel strengthening in the face of so much dehumanizing and deliberate cruelty in 2025.  

That would have been enough, but “Mo” is also one of the best-looking comedies of 2025, too. Directors Solvan “Slick” Naim and Amer, along with cinematographer Gevorg Gev Juguryan, build on Season 1’s warm, polished look to create environments where you can feel the sticky Texas heat and Mo’s panic equally, where even in a two-floor home, family can both be way too close and exactly where you need them to be. The show’s masterful blending of humor and catharsis has always been the engine driving it forward. But where Amer takes the “Mo” in the show’s final season (and also when) is an impressive achievement and incredibly moving. All you can do is smile. —SS 

9. “Murderbot” (Apple TV+)

Sometimes all you want in the world is to sit in your room, by yourself, and watch TV. Whether you’re hiding from reality’s anxieties or celebrating some hard-earned time off, spending a few hours with your favorite stories can be a rejuvenating, enriching experience — even, it turns out, for a robot. In Paul and Chris Weitz’s Apple TV+ series “Murderbot,” Alexander Skarsgård plays the titular ‘bot — a cyborg security unit who hacks its own software, thus freeing it from obeying human commands. But rather than pulverize its former oppressors and fly off into distant space, Murderbot (as it chooses to call itself) lays low. It joins another mission run by futuristic hippies. It pretends to protect them, and it… watches TV. A lot of TV. Like, thousands of hours of “premium entertainment.”

Like many of us, “Murderbot” stumbles into its favorite show — a deliriously soapy “Star Trek” parody titled “Sanctuary Moon” — out of boredom. Guarding these silly scientists isn’t that much of a challenge, so the security unit plows through episode after episode, season after season, mainly to stay occupied. But a funny thing happens while watching a loyal crew of explorers solve problems together: Murderbot starts to feel a similar camaraderie to its own crew. It starts to appreciate their idiosyncrasies, their relationships, and their company.

Yes, “Murderbot” may be another Pinocchio story about a toy built for humans becoming a real boy (the bot has no gender, to be clear), but the combination of its shrewd meta humor and sincere message about the value of communities — not to mention Skarsgård’s exceptional performance — make the series a gleeful escape and a rewarding investment. It’s great TV about why TV can be great with, you know, a Murderbot. —BT

10. “The Narrow Road to the Deep North”

A sensuous, atmospheric, and brutally violent study, “The Narrow Road to the Deep North” wowed audiences at the Berlin Film Festival (when it premiered in February) before getting a late, rushed April release on Amazon Prime Video. (Notice of the acquisition was announced at the same time as the streaming release date — four days before it debuted on the service.) So if you haven’t heard about Justin Kurzel’s five-episode limited series, that’s OK. What matters is you’ve heard of it now, and there’s nothing stopping you from watching.

Jacob Elordi and Ciarán Hinds play Dorrigo Evans. As a young man (played by Elordi), he was a medical officer during World War II. After coming home, he became a respected surgeon and war hero (played by Hinds). In between, he had an affair with his uncle’s wife, Amy (Odessa Young) and, as a prisoner of war, helped build the Thailand-Burma Railway. “The Narrow Road” is yet another series split across multiple timelines: one before the war, one during, and one after. But Kurzel (who directs every episode) and writer Shaun Grant (adapting Richard Flanagan’s 2014 novel) don’t rely on the mystery of what’s missing to sustain a story that’s erotically charged and unsparingly brutal. What humans and their bodies are capable of takes center stage, as does a lingering question of what their minds can forgive, knowing full well what they’ll never forget. —BT

11. “Overcompensating”

Once a year, if I’m lucky, I watch a TV pilot that makes me stand up and applaud. Last year it was FX’s glorious drama “Shogun” — this year, it was Prime Video’s “Overcompensating.”

The comparison between those shows ends there — but speaks to exactly what made Benito Skinner’s comedy series such a winning debut. Set in the irresistible bubble of a college campus, it builds a world as culturally specific, messy, and magnetic as the best TV shows out there. It’s a setting that should be a narrative goldmine (and a nostalgia trap for certain aging millennials in the audience), and on “Overcompensating,” it is.

Skinner stars as Benny, a college freshman with a shocking secret (maybe to him. Maybe not to many others) who wants nothing more than to fit in and be cool. His freshman escapades quickly introduce him to Carmen (Wally Baram), and together they don’t so much conquer as barely survive their first months on campus — but what better way to bond with someone for life? The ensemble fills out with Holmes, Mary Beth Barone, Adam DiMarco, and plenty of day players who make Yates University feel alive and thrilling. —PK

14. “The Rehearsal” Season 2 (HBO)

Attempting to summarize Nathan Fielder’s work is an exercise in futility. How could I, a mere peon, succinctly explain how “The Rehearsal” Season 2 is at once a meticulously choreographed reality show, an immensely moving human drama, and an outrageous high-wire comedy act that peaks either when it compares Paramount+ executives to Nazis or spoofs Clint Eastwood’s 2016 film, “Sully”? (Pick your favorite, they’re both incredible.) Relegating it to broad genres doesn’t really do the show justice either. It’s much more incisive and elaborate than your typical “cringe comedy.” It’s much less desperate and needy than a “prank show,” not to mention miles more sincere. “The Rehearsal” is its own thing, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can appreciate the stunning skill, artistry, and effort on display in each half-hour episode.

In Season 1, Fielder started with a relatively simple idea: helping people prepare for important everyday events by giving them the opportunity to rehearse ahead of time. From there, his imagination ran wild while he tried to perfect the practice, and hoo boy, did things get nuts. In Season 2, Fielder is more focused. Concerned with airline safety, he lays out his thesis right off the bat: Poor communication between pilots causes too many accidents, and he believes his rehearsal method could help.

Of course, “The Rehearsal” isn’t quite that simple, but having a steady, unchanging throughline to the season helps ground the narrative while still allowing Fielder’s creativity to fly. Whether his onscreen persona is the real Fielder, a character, or a combination of the two is another aspect audiences have to decide for themselves, but no matter how you see him, “Nathan” takes you on a journey you truly can’t prepare for — unless you’re him, in which case, he already did. Just sit back, relax (as best you can), and enjoy the flight. —BT

15. “The Righteous Gemstones” Season 4 (HBO)

One of TV’s great ensembles hung up their robes this year, going out on a heavenly high yet still deserving a little more time on the altar of worship. Danny McBride’s HBO comedy featured its creator as Jesse Gemstone, the swaggering second-coming in his family’s mega-church, whose brash attitude often overwhelms his big heart; Edi Patterson as his sister, Judy, the perpetual middle-child whose scandalous, attention-seeking antics become so unhinged she could make even the Devil blush; her husband, BJ (Tim Waltz), is no match for her, and proving his mettle (without losing his sweet, simple soul) proves to be one of the series’ most rewarding journeys; Kelvin (Adam DeVine) is the youngest Gemstone, a dedicated yet headstrong youth pastor who saved his own partner, Keefe (Tony Cavalero), from a life spent worshipping Satan.

Towering over his semi-grown children is Eli (John Goodman), a widower still spiraling from the loss of his beloved wife. Unable to see the righteous path without his better half, Eli struggles to keep the kids on the straight and narrow, in part because he’s drifting on and off the holy road himself. None too helpful is the living embodiment of Eden’s snake, Uncle Baby Billy (Walton Goggins), a tanned and tarnished preacher-turned-showman who loves nothing more than biting off more than he can chew — yet remains as irrefutably loveable as the baby Jesus Himself.

This group with these traits performed by this cast provided four seasons of impeccable comedy. “The Righteous Gemstones” is bold and experimental, yet also familiar and comforting. The sitcom’s formula worked, over and over, but McBride (along with executive producers Jody Hill and David Gordon Green) wasn’t afraid to break it, reframe it, and push it somewhere new. The final season serves as a hopeful and honest testament to the series’ serious side: honoring those sinners who think they’re too lost to be found, and in doing so, opening the door for even darker, more devilish laughs. While their time at the pulpit may be over, I doubt anyone who heard them will forget these Gemstones. —BT

12. “Severance” Season 2 (Apple TV+)

After the jaw-dropping Season 1 cliffhanger of “She’s alive!” — and the even more shocking three-year wait that followed — Dan Erickson’s sci-fi thriller returned weirder and darker than ever.

Mark (Adam Scott), Helly (Britt Lower), Irving (John Turturro), and Dylan (Zach Cherry) navigate their stifling work prison while their brief breach of protocol sends shockwaves through their Outies — not to mention through Lumon Industries at large, particularly Ms. Cobel (Patricia Arquette) and Mr. Milchick (Tramell Tillman). Season 2 took the Innies outside (the tallest waterfall on the planet!) and the Outies inside (Helena you absolute freak), tackled reintegration, and created geometric love-shapes that the human mind cannot begin to fathom with the ongoing arcs of Mark, Gemma (Dichen Lachmann), Helly/Helena, and Dylan with wife Gretchen (Merrit Wever).

From the ORTBO to the testing floor. Erickson, Ben Stiller, Jessica Lee Gagné, and the rest of the production fired on all cylinders, making us feel lucky as viewers to exist in the same time as a show like this one, whose work is indeed mysterious and important. —PK

13. “The Studio” Season 1 (Apple TV+)

There’s a scene about midway through “The Studio’s” premiere that’s been stuck in my head since I first saw it. Maya (Kathryn Hahn), the titular studio’s head of marketing, is trying to explain what’s wrong with Martin Scorsese’s version of the Kool-Aid movie. From a creative standpoint, there’s nothing wrong with the idea — it’s another gem from a modern master. But from the dollars-and-cents side of things (aka, the side Maya and her team are on), it’s a disaster.

With a desaturated poster for the potential movie positioned behind her, Maya explains that casting Steve Buscemi as the lead of a $200 million movie about the Jonestown massacre is “quite literally the worst-case scenario.” People know his face but not his name or his name but not his face, she patiently explains to her boss, Matt (Seth Rogen). When Matt counters that Buscemi is “quite literally one of the greatest actors who is currently alive,” Maya doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t back down. She doesn’t care.

“If he walked in this room, I would splay him on this table and fuck him to death,” she says. “[But] he does not have the clout to carry a franchise like Kool-Aid.”

That juxtaposition — both the clash between art and commerce within their argument and the clash between crass language and high regard within Maya’s comment — lies at the center of “The Studio.” Rogen & Co.’s Apple TV+ comedy emphasizes the pain and anguish of Hollywood executives whose sincere hero worship can’t get in the way of international grosses. These suits may know a good movie from a bad one, but that doesn’t mean they won’t make the bad one and kill the good one if it saves their jobs. The series, in all its lavish glory — filled with long takes and celebrity guest stars — recognizes the fear guiding the film business and makes you sit in that fear until you understand why it’s got its hooks in the people with the pocketbooks.

All the while, it spins deranged turns of phrase into comic gold. “The Studio” may be built on a foundation of terror and tears, but it stands on its sturdy supply of great jokes, delivered by an immensely talented cast. Maybe someday I’ll forget Hahn’s perfectly elocuted remarks. But it won’t be anytime soon. —BT

16. “Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light” (PBS)

A handsome and riveting sequel to the first season, “Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light” is a sequel that extends its story to address urgent modern parallels without ever feeling like it’s doing anything more than telling audiences what happens next. Mark Rylance, in a profoundly perceptive performance, returns as Thomas Cromwell, the right-hand to King Henry VIII (Damian Lewis) and chief architect of his plans to retain power by birthing a son, no matter how many wives it costs him. Emboldened after offing Anne Bolyn, Henry pushes the limits of his power again and again, relying on Cromwell to extend his reach as far as necessary — even when it ends up strangling the king’s loyal lapdog.

Battling a flurry of rumors and hatred directed specifically at him, Cromwell only fights harder to redeem himself — in his own eyes more so than the people’s. In doing so, he becomes a poignant, tragic figure; a dead man walking without the dignity of a blindfold, hoping against hope that he can calm his roiling conscience before facing God’s judgement. With beautiful costume design, elegant direction, and splendid performances, “The Mirror and the Light” continues “Wolf Hall’s” impressive legacy, established in the first season as well as Hilary Mantel’s novels. That it also speaks to our present struggles with vengeful tyrants, rampant elitism, and bended truths, well, that’s the power of history. Look back long enough, and you may just see the future. —BT