25 Best TV Shows Of The 21st Century, Ranked

Just for fun, we like to periodically give ourselves impossible tasks here at TVLine, and we now present the results of our latest masochism: a ranking of the 25 best television shows of the 21st century (thus far, anyway).

We like to think that some of our selections below would pop up on any self-respecting list of the century's best shows. How could you ever leave off AMC's "Breaking Bad"? Or FX's "The Americans"? Or HBO's "Six Feet Under"?

But a list of only 25 series filled up quickly, and we found ourselves having to make painful cuts (you'll know 'em when you don't see 'em) while also honoring some of this century's more underappreciated gems. Have you forgotten The CW's "Crazy Ex-Girlfriend" so quickly? We haven't!

Anyway, let's get to it. Keep scrolling to see our picks for — and ranking of — the 25 best TV shows of the 21st century, then tell us in a comment: Where'd we get it right? And where'd we get it wrong?

Mickey Down and Konrad Kay capture the thrills of London's high-stakes world of finance with their vastly underrated HBO drama. Initially following a group of grads trying to make it in this frenetic line of work, the series revels in sex, drugs, and the underbelly of wealth. Myha'la and Marisa Abela are dynamite as complicated frenemies Harper and Yasmin. From Ken Leung's sharkish Eric to Kit Harington's unstable aristocrat, the characters are as deeply flawed as they are human, even if they're failing upward most of the time. The stellar performances bloom from the soil of hidden secrets, depraved morality, and ambition, all of which add electricity to the narrative. Why this series doesn't have the audience of, say, "Succession" is bewildering. Four seasons in (with one to go), "Industry" is appointment TV at its finest. — Nick Caruso

Witness the power of Peak TV: A surreal musical comedy with miniscule ratings somehow managed not only to survive but thrive for four glorious seasons. And we're so glad it did. Star and co-creator Rachel Bloom shined as Rebecca Bunch, a starry-eyed romantic who followed her childhood crush Josh from New York City to sunny West Covina, and we got a window into her obsessive mind through a series of wickedly satirical musical numbers, spanning genres from Broadway ballad to old-school hip-hop and everything in between. But underneath all the fun was one of TV's most honest portraits of mental illness, as Rebecca dug into exactly why she was so obsessed with Josh. It was audacious, it was heartbreaking, and it gave us songs we're still humming to this day. By the time Rebecca & Co. took their final bow, we were on our feet applauding. — Dave Nemetz

When it comes to charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent, few shows can hold a candle to the culture-shifting phenomenon that is "RuPaul's Drag Race," the first major televised competition show solely for drag queens. You want comedy? The girls have you covered. You want drama? They'll bring it. You want to watch two queens do a lip sync performance of Dixie Carter's "the night the lights went out in Georgia" speech from "Designing Women" in its entirety? You're in luck! An unapologetic celebration of queer joy, "Drag Race" has grown into an Emmy Award-winning juggernaut, spawning more than 20 international versions and spin-offs along the way, and it still regularly packs gay bars across the country for Friday night viewings. From sickening runway looks to fierce dance battles on the main stage, "Drag Race" is like every other reality competition show combined in a blender — and we'll drink to that. — Andy Swift

"Girls" was an education in navigating early womanhood. With Lena Dunham's Hannah Horvath as our guide, the HBO series never bored as the spunky protagonist's delusions fueled six seasons of sharp chatter and random life lessons that continue to make us laugh today. (Have you ever heard a line of dialogue as erratic and satisfying as: "And I'm sorry I don't want to go to Serendipity and drink frozen hot chocolates with your uncle's girlfriend, who is a stewardess named Elodie"?)

While the show was full of delightful verbal and visual riffs, it also delivered real emotional rewards. By exchanging TV's idealistic, perfectly primped moments of romantic union for messy, awkward, and embarrassing hook-ups, the series became a poignant illustration of the intricacies of intimacy for young women. In the end, there was something kind of moving about watching our clumsy Girl pursue the things she wanted, never letting early adulthood's biggest hurdles — OCD flare-ups, bad haircuts, and a seismic betrayal by her best friend and ex-boyfriend — hold her back. — Claire Franken

We know: You might not love the fantasy series' polarizing ending. But the saga based on George R.R. Martin's books was a sweeping, engaging, and engrossing ride for all eight seasons of its Emmy-winning HBO run. Though set in a fictional realm full of dragons and danger, at its heart "Game of Thrones" was a political drama about flawed people making choices that reverberated through generations. Its cast — including Peter Dinklage, Pedro Pascal, Emilia Clarke, and Gwendoline Christie — was sprawling and elite. Its writing could go toe-to-toe with any prestige drama's. Its battle scenes were some of the most gorgeously shot in television history. And its willingness to kill off even the most central characters (R.I.P., Ned Stark) made for a gripping, if often terrifying, ride. — Kimberly Roots

David Caspe's ABC sitcom followed a group of 20-something millennials as they navigated dysfunctional adventures in adulthood in Chicago. Falling somewhere between "Friends" and "30 Rock," "Happy Endings" was full of rapid-fire dialogue and zingy performances, with almost every line stuffed with uproarious jokes and blink-and-you'll-miss-them references. From Eliza Coupe and Damon Wayans Jr.'s neurotic marrieds, to Casey Wilson and Adam Pally's self-centered, barely functioning besties, the show nailed the vibe of millennial life in an increasingly frenetic world. That said, the warmth and history among the friends always kept the show and its semi-egotistical characters grounded. Sharp and irreverent with incredibly tight writing (and bonus points for the actors' physical comedy), this show deserved way more attention than it received in its scant three-season run. — N.C.

"Clear eyes, full hearts, can't lose" isn't just the mantra that propelled the Dillon Panthers to victory. It's also key to understanding why this humble high school football drama has earned a permanent place in our TV-loving hearts. "Clear eyes," because the show saw the town of Dillon, Texas, and its inhabitants with sharp focus, tackling thorny issues like racism and abortion while painting a vivid portrait of an authentic American town, warts and all. "Full hearts," because the show was inspiringly goodhearted, emphasizing the kindness and generosity of its small-town heroes. And "can't lose," because even when Coach Eric Taylor and his football team came up short on the scoreboard, they still found a way to win off the field. Some might avoid watching "FNL" thinking it's just a show about football. But really, it was a show about life — and a beautiful one, at that. — D.N.

Bill Hader's loopy, lacerating HBO comedy got off to a pretty good start, with Hader starring as a hitman who decided to ditch that line of work to pursue his Hollywood dreams of being an actor. But soon enough, the show rocketed to greatness, taking Barry's ambitions and regrets to some very dark places and following him on some very surreal adventures. (For proof, look no further than the pitch-black comedy and cartoon-level violence of the Season 2 instant classic "ronny/lily.") The supporting cast sparkled, too, from Sarah Goldberg's self-obsessed actress Sally to Henry Winkler's clueless acting teacher Gene to Anthony Carrigan's lovable Chechen gangster Hank. By the end, the virtuoso filmmaking on "Barry" — often directed by Hader himself — rivaled any big-budget drama on TV, with breathless chase scenes and unsettling flashes of horror. It took us far, far away from its silly initial premise, but we enjoyed every bit of the ride. — D.N.

Wait, how did a cartoon about a talking horse get on this list? Well, maybe because that cartoon about a talking horse happens to be one of the most inspired, insightful, and emotionally astute TV shows we've ever seen, animated or otherwise. Sure, the misadventures of former sitcom star BoJack — voiced impeccably by Will Arnett — and his attempts to regain the showbiz spotlight led to lots of hilarious Hollywoo(d) satire. (We'll never look at Jessica Biel the same way again.) But BoJack's gnawing need for approval and cyclical spiral of self-pity proved early on that this was much more than just a laugh riot. Creator Raphael Bob-Waksberg addressed heavy topics like depression and addiction, balancing a wacky talking-animal comedy with a grueling examination of trauma — and somehow excelling at both. Not many shows this century made us laugh as much as "BoJack" did, and not many made us feel as deeply, either. — D.N.

We'll be honest: We rarely knew exactly what was going on in this deliciously devilish supernatural series from "The Good Wife" creators Robert and Michelle King. But the characters were so good and the vibe so diabolically engrossing that we didn't care! Catholic priest David (played by Mike Colter) and forensic psychologist Kristen (Katja Herbers) investigated possible demonic possessions for the Church, all while dancing around their ever-present sexual attraction and pondering the divine mysteries of the universe. Their fellow questioners — including tech whiz Ben (Aasif Mandvi) and unfazed nun Sister Andrea (Andrea Martin) — as well as perennial nemesis Leland (Michael Emerson) added shades of weird we found intoxicating. And really, the demon therapist who shows up near the end of the first season is worth the price of admission alone. — K.R.

Phoebe Waller-Bridge's character in this British dramedy isn't the kind of person you'd want to hang around with, but her exploits make for a very fun (if toxic) ride. Season 1 of the Emmy-winning Prime Video series presents as a darkly funny meditation on grief and friendship, with Waller-Bridge's asides to the camera drawing the audience in and making us privy to her self-centered — though wickedly funny — inner monologue. And it's great! But Season 2 is where the show really sings. When Waller-Bridge's character crosses paths with a sweet, messy Catholic priest (played by Andrew Scott), the heat generated by their conversations alone could melt the wax right outta a prayer candle. — K.R.

Reality competition series were just a blip in the TV stratosphere before "Survivor" caught fire in 2000. By the time Sue Hawk gave her infamous speech and Richard Hatch was crowned the show's inaugural winner, the genre was forever changed. Dozens of series have tried to mimic the magic of "Survivor," but few could reach its high highs and impressive staying power. From its rich and emotional storytelling to its gorgeous cinematography, "Survivor" continues to deliver dynamic twists, zesty characters, and unforgettable moments 50 (!) seasons later. Not many series are still on the air after 26 years, and thankfully, this cutthroat game of strategy and social dynamics shows zero signs of slowing down. — N.C.

With its iconic look and its "don't let the bastards grind you down" mentality, Hulu's series based on Margaret Atwood's 1985 novel became emblematic of the fight for women's rights all over the world — quite the heavy mantle for a piece of entertainment. But the show was so good that it bore the weight well. Anchored by Elisabeth Moss as an unwilling handmaid in a dystopian theocracy using ritual rape to boost its birthrate, the Emmy-winning drama didn't shy away from depicting the violence involved in the subjugation of women. But it also championed the spirit of defiance that overthrows regimes, which made for an energizing ride. Add in the superb ensemble — including Yvonne Strahovski, Ann Dowd, Samira Wiley, and Bradley Whitford — and the result was six seasons that stayed with us long after the finale. — K.R.

Sterlin Harjo's masterpiece served up everything we love about TV: sharp comedic beats, singular characters bolstered by wowing performances, and an immense amount of heart. More importantly, it served as much-needed representation for our country's Indigenous population. Following the goings-on of a group of teens living in rural Oklahoma, the series was buoyed by up-and-comers like Devery Jacobs and D'Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai, whose performances were multilayered and occasionally heartbreaking. But the show never skimped on highlighting the reservation's quirkiness beyond its core kids. Supporting cast members Dallas Goldtooth and Gary Farmer both toyed with Native stereotypes, while off-setting the show's dramatic elements with big presences and even bigger laughs. Three seasons of this gem just weren't enough. — N.C.

One glance at the above photo of Justin Theroux's Kevin and Carrie Coon's Nora, and our hearts ache to remember how beautifully "The Leftovers" pulled off its three-season exploration of grief, love, and humanity. Although HBO's adaptation of Tom Perrotta's novel began with a mystery — how and why did 2% of the world's population vanish? — that question ultimately became more of a footnote for the series, which focused instead on the many ways unexplained loss can transform those who are left to pick up the pieces. In addition to a breakout performance from Coon (we're forever grateful) and career-best work from Theroux, "The Leftovers" gifted us with rich, complex turns from the likes of Ann Dowd, Christopher Eccleston, and Margaret Qualley, all of whom gave the show its enduring emotional resonance. — Rebecca Luther

If you haven't seen Donald Glover's magnificently weird FX comedy, it's kind of hard to put into words why you should watch it — which is exactly why you should watch it. At first glance, it's a story about aimless 20-something Earn and his ambitions to manage the rising career of his rapper cousin Paper Boi. But that was just a framework that allowed "Atlanta" to gleefully experiment with the sitcom form, delivering a riotously funny buddy comedy like "Barbershop" one week and a chilling tale of Gothic horror like "Teddy Perkins" the next. You truly didn't know what you were going to get when you tuned into an episode, and the cast rose to the challenge, from Glover's stellar co-stars Brian Tyree Henry, LaKeith Stanfield, and Zazie Beetz to a cavalcade of surprise guest stars. Sure, sometimes "Atlanta" swung and missed, but the hits went straight out of the park... and to the moon, even. — D.N.

HBO's funeral-home-owning Fisher family immediately pulled us in as they grieved their late patriarch in the stunning yet deathly real "Six Feet Under" premiere. Mortality was given center stage on the series, with each episode's opening showing a future client's end, often in creative and gruesome ways. But the real stars were the Fishers — played by the excellent Michael C. Hall, Frances Conroy, Peter Krause, and Lauren Ambrose — as the characters faced their own traumas and hardships while constantly looking death in the eye each day. "Six Feet Under" wasn't always an easy watch, but like all great art, it forced us to face our own mortality and come to terms with the fact that — as the tagline states — everything, everyone, everywhere ends. Plus, best series finale ever. — N.C.

We expected a lighthearted lark when we heard "Breaking Bad" attorney Saul Goodman was getting his own prequel — but what we got instead was a fascinatingly layered, heartbreakingly tragic origin story that even rivaled the depth and complexity of Walter White's. Bob Odenkirk returned as Saul, who was still just small-time schemer Jimmy McGill at the start, letting us see every agonizing step of his moral downfall. Along the way, we got to check in with "Breaking Bad" favorites like gruff fixer Mike Ehrmantraut and drug lord Gus Fring. But the best parts of "Saul" were all new, including Michael McKean as Jimmy's paranoid brother Chuck and (especially) Rhea Seehorn as Jimmy's love interest/voice of reason Kim Wexler. By the time it unspooled its triumphant series finale, a vocal contingent of fans were convinced that "Better Call Saul" was actually superior to "Breaking Bad." Sacrilege to some, maybe... but we'll allow it. — D.N.

HBO's satirical drama was an embarrassment of thespian riches for four seasons, gifting us the menacing gravitas of Brian Cox's Logan, the casual cruelty of Sarah Snook's Shiv, and the relentless, exhausting ambition of Jeremy Strong's Kendall — to name only a few standouts from the show's gloriously deep bench of performances. But few shows in any TV era have delivered the razor-sharp writing of "Succession," which followed the terrible family behind the Waystar RoyCo media conglomerate as its members jockeyed for control of the company. The show was all at once a brutally funny takedown of the rich guys who shape our entertainment, a near-Shakespearean portrait of the dangers of having too much power, and, at its core, a searing family drama that revealed the warped psyches underneath the Roy siblings' rat-a-tat insults. — R.L.

It was known as the Cold War, but it got pretty hot on FX's sizzling spy thriller, with Keri Russell and Matthew Rhys (both fantastic here) starring as married Soviet spies Elizabeth and Philip Jennings, posing as a typical suburban family while working to undermine Reagan's America from the inside... even if it meant sleeping with the enemy. Densely plotted and unbearably tense, "The Americans" was a slow burn in the best sense, methodically building its story season by season until the whole house of cards came crashing down in a riveting, all-time-great series finale. (We can hear U2's "With or Without You" just thinking of it.) This show flew under the radar a bit during the high-flying days of Peak TV, never taking home an Emmy for best drama series. But looking back now, it stands the test of time as one of the era's greatest and most emotionally satisfying dramas. — D.N.

HBO's "The Wire" painted a bleak portrait of a city in peril. Focusing first on the drug trade in the housing projects of Baltimore, creator David Chase later segued to the illegal workings of dock workers, corruption in government, and a struggling newspaper trying to cover it all. The creative shifts added puzzle pieces to the series' big picture, spotlighting how broken institutions were failing individual Americans, a harsh truth that was often difficult to digest. All of its characters, no matter what side of the coin they were on, were fully formed, three-dimensional beings, each with his or her own baggage, motives, and goals. And the performances! Idris Elba, Dominic West, Wendell Pierce, Lance Reddick, and Michael K. Williams (among others) continuously raised the bar, showing that in a world where everyone's just struggling to survive, nothing is ever as black and white as it seems. — N.C.

AMC's drama was a gorgeous snapshot of the tumult of 1960s America, told through advertising executive Don Draper (played by Jon Hamm) and the Madison Avenue firm where he worked. Don and his colleagues spun slick campaigns that sold perfection, all while their personal lives roiled with insecurity, uncertainty, and infidelity. "Mad Men" took home 16 Emmys over its seven-season run, a sure testament to its spare, stunning writing and the stellar performances from a cast that also included Elisabeth Moss, John Slattery, Vincent Kartheiser, and Christina Hendricks — all of it shaped by the exacting vision of series creator Matthew Weiner. — K.R.

What a feat for any TV show to get more relevant after it ends, but "Veep" has pulled off such an accomplishment, with its spot-on political satire feeling less and less fictional as the years go by. A hilarious depiction of government incompetence, "Veep" was anchored by the inimitable Julia Louis-Dreyfus, whose turn as vicious and vain Vice President Selina Meyer resulted in one of television's most memorable anti-heroines (not to mention a singularly great comedic performance, which earned Louis-Dreyfus six total Emmys). There wasn't a weak link in the ensemble, either, with Tony Hale, Anna Chlumsky, Timothy Simons, and Sam Richardson among the relentlessly funny supporting players. — R.L.

If you're among those who haven't watched "Breaking Bad" but have heard its praises sung time and again, you might be skeptical that it's really that good — but, yeah. It really is that good. Bryan Cranston stars as Walter White, a high school chemistry teacher who begins cooking and selling meth as a way to make money after receiving a lung cancer diagnosis. He recruits a former student, Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul), for the endeavor, and what starts as a (relatively) low-stakes, often-quite-funny misadventure between the two turns into one of TV's most compelling and claustrophobic crime dramas across five seasons. Combine the writing and directing talents of series creator Vince Gilligan with all-timer performances from Cranston, Paul, Giancarlo Esposito, Jonathan Banks, and more, and you've got the kind of alchemy not even Walter White could explain. — R.L.

If we ranked these shows by highest volume of jokes per minute, surely "30 Rock" would still come out on top: Tune out of NBC's showbiz satire for even one scene, and you've missed half a dozen punchlines. But the show's smart, rapid-fire jokes are just one aspect of its greatness. The series — which takes place behind the scenes of a fictional NBC late-night show, with Tina Fey as head writer Liz Lemon — offered an ahead-of-its-time skewering of the entertainment industry, which seems more prescient with each passing year in real-life Hollywood. (Fifteen years after "30 Rock" gave us fake reality show "M.I.L.F. Island," TLC gave us the very real "M.I.L.F. Manor" for two weird seasons.)

In front of the camera, we were spoiled with career-defining comedic performances from the likes of Jane Krakowski (as narcissistic actress Jenna Maroney), Tracy Morgan (as unreliable "TGS" headliner Tracy Jordan), and Jack McBrayer (as unrelentingly optimistic NBC page Kenneth Parcell). The show's essence, though, came from the friendship that blossomed between Fey's Liz and Alec Baldwin's network exec Jack Donaghy, a pair of messed-up workaholics who made each other better, and made "30 Rock" the very best. — R.L.