The 20 best TV shows of 2022 (so far)

Will the second half of season six of live up to the first? Can it? (If you’re not caught up on the show, you may not want to read on.) I’m hopeful, but the run from ​“Wine And Roses” through “Plan And Execution” will be pretty tough to top. Among other things, it boasted two Very Big Deaths, which each unfolded surprisingly (the last moments of that the midseason finale were truly shocking); had some confident direction (co-star Rhea Seehorn’s helming of “Hit And Run” was a standout); and really refined the show’s deceptively leisurely pace, with that enjoyable-until-it-wasn’t plot about sabotaging Howard (Patrick Fabian) becoming far more important than I anticipated. The very end of Breaking Bad felt, let’s face it, a bit too condensed. Hopefully Saul can space out its beats while still keeping us hooked. [Tim Lowery]

It seemed at best improbable that there was another whole season of great TV nested in the premise of Netflix’s . In 2019, creators Leslye Headland, Amy Poehler, and star Natasha Lyonne nailed a pitch-perfect finale for what, at the time, was a limited series. So returning would prove a mistake, right? Wrong. In this nonstop surprising second act for Nadia Vulvokov, the metaphysical fantasy of two New Yorkers—yes, Alan (Charlie Barnett) is back too—continues on a literal voyage barreling through philosophy’s biggest questions. It’s a stunning, successful sophomore outing that sees an already outstanding show stretch its ambition. [Alison Foreman]

First of all: could literally stop your heart with how adorable it is. This coming-of-age rom-com, based on a graphic novel of the same name, will undoubtedly melt your soul. But that’s not why it’s one of the best new TV shows of the year. Rather, it’s because of its well-structured, swiftly paced plot, and the two outstanding lead performances by Kit Connor and Joe Locke. Heartstopper’s radiant spirit easily works as an escape from the real world, but the show succeeds by embracing multiple authentic queer experiences. Nick’s (Connor) coming out journey—from self-acceptance to being honest with his mother about his bisexuality—is balanced with love interest Charlie’s (Locke) confidence in his own identity. Plus, you know it’s a good rom-com when four hours fly by. [Saloni Gajjar]

Bill Hader has done it again. Hitman-turned-thespian-turned-embodiment of human suffering Barry Berkman returned to HBO this spring with eight edge-of-your-seat episodes that saw the already Emmy-winning show hitting new heights. From the stark season opener “forgiving jeff” to the fever-dream-like finale “starting now,” season three consistently upped its game with brilliant storytelling performed by one of the most committed casts in a dark comedy. That each episode was better than the last and that none exceeded 35 minutes is a testament to Hader and series co-creator Alec Berg’s knack for efficient but still resonant character exploration. Season four can’t come soon enough. [Alison Foreman]

If a book or movie or show is only as good as its ending (somebody famous said that, right? Hello? Anybody?), is a really fucking good show. David Simon’s first return to Baltimore’s cops and corners and politicians since the wrap-up of The Wire had its work cut out for it—namely, answering this question that so many people seemed to be asking: How would it capture the scope and genius of The Wire? It wouldn’t—of course it wouldn’t—and, in retrospect, that’s kind of a dumb question. This miniseries wasn’t about trying to paint a full portrait of a complicated city—although, yes, it does paint a portrait, just not one as full, because Simon clearly cares a lot about Baltimore and has ideas on how to improve it—and instead was tightly focused on BPD’s corrupt Gun Trace Task Force and what led to its indictment on racketeering charges in 2017. And it all unfolds quite well, anchored by three standout performances (Jon Bernthal as a very coked-up-seeming sergeant, Wunmi Mosaku as a rightfully indignant attorney, and Jamie Hector as a homicide detective trying to keep things above board), as well as Reinaldo Marcus Green’s very impressive direction. [Tim Lowery]

From some of the talents behind BoJack Horseman, Prime Video’s is unlike any other show I’ve watched. For one thing, it has a unique animated style that combines bursts of highly detailed realism with illustrative rotoscope outlines that produce an almost surreal quality. It takes similarly bold narrative and thematic swings, exploring heady sci-fi concepts without compromising the honest emotional turmoil of a young woman lost in grief. Following a three-year hiatus, Undone returned this spring with a sophomore outing that continued–but didn’t repeat–the charms of the first season. The voice cast includes Rosa Salazar and Bob Odenkirk, and the trippy tale is grounded by relatable, reflective relationships. [Alison Foreman]

Is anyone on TV giving a more memorable performance right now than Jean Smart on ? In season two, she takes Deborah Vance to new heights as the stand-up comedian struggles with road trip shenanigans, bonding with Ava (Hannah Einbinder)—a round of applause for the scene where she teaches Ava how to float, please—and coming to terms with her past. Hacks lets Smart go all out with an outrageous comedic performance that also delivers sentimental, nuanced beats. While the finale could easy double as a series ender, our hope is Hacks goes on for 10 more seasons so Smart and Einbinder can grace our screens for a long, long time. [Saloni Gajjar]

From Pam & Tommy to Joe vs. Carole, limited series with real-life inspirations were a dime a dozen this spring. Peacock’s managed to cut through the noise with its sensational writing and striking visuals, both anchored by a killer performance by star and executive producer Emmy Rossum. With just five parts to its name, this easy-breezy miniseries charts the rise of the titular Los Angeles “icon,” famous thanks to a mysterious billboard campaign started in 1984. The project earned an “A” from The A.V. Club because it thoughtfully captures the camp and spectacle of the local legend without sacrificing its subject’s innate sparkle. [Alison Foreman]

Based on the beloved comics of the same name, is the cynical superhero saga everyone suddenly seems to be recommending. If you’re still sleeping on Erik Kripke’s buzzy action dramedy (think Watchmen but gorier and with more direct digs at Republicans), its third season makes a great case for finally committing to the binge. An electric Antony Starr returns as the vengeful Homelander, an evil Captain America type in a universe where good old-fashioned capitalism has turned would-be heroes into egomaniacal celebs with god complexes. The Boys’ ; its ; and . [Alison Foreman]

just came out last week, but it feels like it’s lived in my head for much longer. Which kind of makes sense. The show, about a fine-dining chef (Jeremy Allen White) who returns to Chicago to run his family’s Italian beef joint, is a weird, unique blend, and there’s a lot to take in. It’s simultaneously very funny (see any Chicago-accent-tinged line delivered by Ebon Moss-Bachrach, particularly “That motherfucker is complete fucking bullshit”), very tense (the kitchen meltdown scenes are almost anxiety inducing), very dark (there’s plenty of trauma being unpacked), and very ambitious (I’m still trying to figure out how they pulled off episode’s seven’s epic oner). [Tim Lowery]