Hidden gems: 8 great 2021 TV series you can catch up on right now

Pixar’s contributions to the Disney+ lineup haven’t gotten as much attention as ; but the studio has produced some of the service’s most delightfully offbeat original programming, focusing primarily on short films in series like Forky Asks A Question, SparkShorts, Pixar Popcorn, and—best of all—Dug Days. Set just after the events of the movie , this five-part series (which takes about half an hour to watch in full) follows the upbeat, squirrel-obsessed talking dog Dug, as he settles into his new life with Carl Fredricksen. Each episode tells a funny little story about Dug learning how to live as a “normal” house-pet, while surrounded by all the tiny animals he wants to murder and the neighboring humans who confuse him. The complete series fits together into a charming and elegiac portrait of a tired old man (voiced by Ed Asner in one of his final performances) and his goofy but well-meaning canine pal (voiced by Dug Days creator Bob Peterson), discovering together what it means to be a good companion. [Noel Murray]

Romantic dramedy Little Things is a slice-of-life character study of its two leads, Dhruv (Dhruv Sehgal) and Kavya (Mithila Palkar), and their evolving romantic relationship. Set against the backdrop of the sprawling city of Mumbai, the show is a realistic and engaging portrayal of how Indian millennials navigate the pressures of establishing a career and family in their 20s. Don’t expect any major drama or twists in this one. It’s a rarity for Indian-origin shows not to have exaggerated stories, but Little Things is a simple and honest look at Dhruv and Kavya’s challenges, which are mostly about balancing their individual identities and coupledom. Little Things ends up breaking taboos with Dhruv and Kavya’s live-in relationship (or cohabitation), which is relatively uncharted territory on Indian TV. For a global audience, it’s an honest depiction of how modern couples are subverting stereotypes. The show hinges on Sehgal and Palkar’s sweet, natural chemistry. Their long walks and thoughtful conversations about the eponymous little things make for a relaxing and fascinating experience. [Saloni Gajjar]

When it comes to the depiction of onscreen intimacy on television—especially queer intimacy—shows often go the way of either fading to black or focusing on aesthetic eroticism, pulling away from the actual dynamic between the two characters and exploring how that translates to physical intimacy. This is not the case in Mae Martin’s dramedy , originally commissioned by Channel 4 and renewed by Netflix for that premiered in June. Created by and starring Martin as a semi-autobiographical version of themself and Charlotte Richie as their girlfriend George, Feel Good tackles not only the challenges and joys of queer intimacy but also addiction, trauma, and through an empathetic narrative that is both caring and hilarious. As the narrative progresses through Mae’s journey with addiction, their childhood trauma, George’s indecision and how she handles Mae’s intensity, there’s never any doubt about their intimate connection through both equally excellent seasons. Season two includes a delightful montage sequence of increasingly deranged role-play scenarios, ranging from a Twilight-inspired vampire/human scene to a king and knight scene, complete with costumes. [Priyanka Bose]

Sonny Boy is at once an intriguing slow-burn of a series and one of the most ambitious and experimental pieces of television in recent years. At first glance, its plot—students find themselves and their school drifting into another dimension and struggle to survive in light of their new superpowers—is deceptively simple and familiar. But there’s nothing straightforward about Shingo Natsume’s engrossing series, which is less interested in linear narrative storytelling (despite the coming-of-age story at its core) and more inclined to challenge expectations at every turn. Sonny Boy oscillates between imaginative set pieces and somber poignant musings, with scenes sometimes literally being deconstructed as they’re appearing on screen. In a sense, it’s not too far off from how Chuck Jones played with absurdity, creation, and destruction within a story in “Duck Amuck,” challenging both the viewer and the characters they’re watching. There’s the same level of playfulness in presentation, from its soundscape to its aesthetic shifts, that are present in the work of Natsume’s past collaborators, Masaaki Yuasa and Shinichirō Watanabe (who serves as music advisor for the series). In spite of the way it explicitly references everything from The Drifting Classroom and Lord Of The Flies to M.C. Escher and Stanley Kubrick, building upon a number of isekai stories and smartly deconstructing the genre, Sonny Boy is the kind of series that is impossible to describe as anything other than a truly unique work of art. [Juan Barquin]