It’s been a good year for television. It’s been a good year for television since roughly 1998, but this one’s had some particular corkers. There’s been weekly appointment viewing, box-sets, and both. The gratification of TV viewers has never been so undelayed.
Gems have come from all over – streaming services, major and specialist channels – and with the TV market broadening, they’ve been made by all sorts. Red Bull makes TV now. YouTube makes drama. JD Sports, Deliveroo and Teapigs are all moving into all moving into original programming in the new year. Your Nan released an eight-part miniseries in 2018. I hear it’s getting serious awards buzz.
We asked our writers to recommend their favourite new shows of 2018, and, in no particular order, here’s a baker’s dozen of the very best.
Succession, Sky Atlantic/Now TV
A wealthy clan fights to prevent the family business from imploding as their patriarch’s fate hangs in the balance, while bitter rivals scheme behind closed doors. Sound like a case of arrested development? You’re not too far off the mark, but the Bluths don’t have a monopoly on dysfunction, and this brilliant comedy drama quickly leaves such comparisons in the dust. Jesse Armstrong, co-creator of Peep Show, brings a very British sensibility to a very American story, observing proceedings with an unflinching yet far from unkind gaze.
Brian Cox’s towering turn as the endearingly monstrous media tycoon Logan Roy is the linchpin of an impressive ensemble cast. Jeremy Strong’s multi-layered performance as troubled eldest son Kendall is faultless, while Kieran Culkin bags all the best lines as his hilariously perverse brother, Roman, and Sarah Snook’s aptly named Shiv tosses bratty barbs at her siblings like confetti. While the immediate family bicker and brawl, though, many viewers will be rooting for a most unexpected candidate to bungle and bluster his way to the very top. Nicholas Braun’s daffy, delightful cousin Greg is one of the finest comic creations of recent years.
Gem Wheeler
The Haunting Of Hill House, Netflix
As part of its relentless assault on what little remains of our free time, Netflix has plied us with several marvellous original series this year, but the top recommendation for 2018 can only be The Haunting of Hill House; a gorgeously choreographed, sumptuous adaptation of the novel.
Explaining why it’s such a phenomenal piece of television without disturbing the lurking spectres of spoilers is almost impossible. Suffice to say The Haunting Of Hill House excels at taking characters who range from heartless to utterly contemptable, then making you care about them in a way few pieces of horror have ever managed. The Crain family may start out as horror archetypes, cowering under the covers from things that go bump in the night, but they soon grow and evolve in tandem with the show itself.
Across ten episodes, the tropes of terror peel away, revealing layers of meaning that weave together all the jump-scares and bated-breath moments into a cohesive story that wants to say and do far more than spook the audience. Just remember not to panic if you’re binge-watching and hear a noise in the chimney – it’s probably just Santa.
Probably.
Chris Allcock
Bodyguard, BBC One
Wasn’t it fun? A nation divided uniting every Sunday night over Richard Madden’s clenched jaw, Keeley Hawes’ clipped vowels, and bombs! Guns! Kompromat! Theories!
Oh, the theories. We outdid ourselves, people. Every possibility was investigated and every clue sniffed, squeezed and shaken to see if there was anything inside. The audience participation elevated Bodyguard from entertainment to hysteria to much-needed group therapy. More people watched it than watched the Moon landing, I heard.
Political thriller Bodyguard would never have been so compelling, of course, if it weren’t for the expert design of writer Jed Mercurio and directors Thomas Vincent and John Strickland, and the expert performances from that cast. They kept us gripped, kept us guessing, and kept our minds blessedly off the world outside.
Louisa Mellor
Barry, Sky Atlantic
The name ‘Barry’ radiates ordinariness; it exudes nothingness (my sincere apologies to Barrys everywhere), which of course makes it the perfect name for a hitman
Step forward Bill Hader, who brings an endearingly blank face and soul to the role of the eponymous, blank-named Barry, a former US marine turned hitman who’s suffering from a bad case of career-based blues. A job in Los Angeles brings the heavy-hearted hitman into orbit around the world of amateur theatre, a world he falls into despite the very obvious incompatibility with his day-job, and the twin risks of discovery and death. Worse still, he’s sharing an acting class with a man he’s contracted to kill, and a woman with whom he’s falling head over heels in love.
Barry’s fork-tongued boss, Monroe Fuches, played by Stephen Root, divides his time between begging Barry not to ditch killing, and begging for his own life when Barry’s new career direction keeps dragging them both towards the grave. Henry Winkler (aka the Fonz), is in fine form as Barry’s other ‘boss’, his foul-mouthed acting-coach, Gene Cousinea. The tension between these two men and vocations, one demanding the suppression of all emotions, the other begging them set free, creates the essential conflict that drives the many twists and turns of the narrative.
While Barry is a funny, quirky, off-kilter show filled with incongruous Chechen mobsters, mad mercenaries, and dumb but dogged detectives – the black heart of Fargo stuffed into the chest of a Wes Anderson movie – it’s also a serious and haunting quest for truth: one man’s search for his true face, and maybe even redemption, somewhere in the midst of a life spent summoning sin and death.
Laugh or cry: it’s an astounding piece of work.
Jamie Andrew
Chilling Adventures Of Sabrina, Netflix
When it first began in 2017, Archie comics TV series Riverdale felt like an experiment in what you could do with the IP’s timeworn Americana that people would make time for, and it still does. It feels like an experiment every week, and one that occasionally gets out of hand.
So before Chilling Adventures Of Sabrina arrived to an uncertain Netflix audience, people weren’t sure what to expect from the new Archie universe show. Would it be another Riverdale? Would it have a lot of ideas it didn’t quite know what to do with? Would every plot twist be closer to jumping the shark than Roy Scheider on a pogo stick? More importantly, would it trample on fond memories of Melissa Joan Hart and her sarcastic cat puppet co-star?
The answer to all of the above was “no”, thank the Dark Lord. Sabrina arrived finely crafted by its creator, Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa, who was also behind the comics on which this new incarnation is based. Gone are the smoke and sparkles of the kid-friendly sitcom – Sabrina, Hilda, Zelda and cousin Ambrose (a spectacular Chance Perdomo) may live in a dark world of witchcraft, but the grey areas of the show are what gives it depth. Nearly everyone in Sabrina’s magic circle is one step away from being pure evil (and they’re already pretty damn evil), which strikes a rather interesting balance with her ‘girl gang and chill’ life in the human world.
The series tips its hat to breakout shows that have struck a similar tone before, including Buffy, Supernatural and even Alan Ball’s Six Feet Under, but it also retains its own delightful vision, with a cast of brilliant actors cackling around its cauldron and chewing on each line of dialogue like an infernal root, scratched up from the soil so that their enemies will suffer endless torment.
It should be very silly and forgettable, and it’s a triumph that it’s very much not so. Let Chilling Adventures Of Sabrina cast a spell on you, and it’ll be a binge you won’t forget.
Kirsten Howard
Future Man, Syfy UK
Future Man, which premiered here in the UK in 2018, is the story of Josh Futturman (Josh Hutcherson of The Hunger Games fame), a young sad-sack who spends his days as a janitor at an STD research centre, and his nights obsessively playing the first-person sci-fi shooter Biotic Wars. Things take a turn for the absurd when Josh becomes the first person ever to complete the game, and at its, er, climax, is joined in a flash by Tiger and Wolf, two of the game’s main characters, who it transpires are actually real soldiers from the future, fighting the very real Biotic Wars. Josh quickly realises, to his shock and dismay, that the game was an advanced training simulation, and he now represents the earth’s only hope of victory against the sinister forces of the Biotics
He’s the messiah, and he’s a very naughty boy.
Future Man unfolds like a dirty Back To The Future in conversation with The Terminator as the Butterfly Effect keeps butting in. It’s rude, crude, clever and crazy, juggling time-lines, dick jokes and pop-culture references with aplomb. The story is frenetic and inventive, giving multiple nods to its time-travel forebears, packed with slap-stick gore galore, and laughs by the bucket-load (just don’t ask what’s in that bucket). Future Man is one of the funniest shows of the year, worth the price of admission alone for the thread involving blood-thirsty alpha-male Wolf embracing his destiny as a sensitive, world-class chef.
Jamie Andrew
Save Me, Sky Atlantic
Written by and starring Lennie James, Save Me is a thriller that goes to very uncomfortable places (and I don’t just mean Lewisham). Its plot—a thirteen-year-old girl is kidnapped by a paedophile ring—reads on paper as nastily sensationalist. In execution, it’s utterly absorbing. The dialogue, which bounces energetically with South London slang, is performed with the kind of overlapping naturalism rarely seen in crime thrillers. The events may be heightened and unlikely but they’re anchored by a group of characters that exist with such force, you buy it wholesale.
Chief of these is James’ Nelly, a South Londoner embedded in the fabric of his local estate (beautifully depicted here as whimsical and lively, not grim and dull, by director Nick Murphy). Nelly searches for his estranged daughter alongside a cast of convincing characters played by Suranne Jones, Stephen Graham, Kerry Godliman, Susan Lynch, Jason Flemyng and more. It’s an excellent thriller led by great performances and strong writing, with a much-deserved second series already on the way.
Louisa Mellor
Mark Kermode’s Secrets Of Cinema, BBC Four
Co-written with the great Kim Newman, this excellent factual series has Mark “Flappy Hands” Kermode navigating the best that cinema has to offer, genre by genre. Inevitably, it builds to a finale about horror films, but also takes an interesting look at heist movies, coming of age films, and science fiction, covering not only the big hits but some overlooked gems too.
For proof of its geek credentials, look no further than the way in which the opening romantic comedy episode takes in everything from Splash to Cannibal Women In The Avocado Jungle Of Death. Kermode and Newman are a formidable pair of film brains and with a Christmas special and a second series on the way, we’ll be scribbling down the names of many more films we need to revisit or catch up on while we watch.
Mark Harrison
Killing Eve, BBC One
An unceremonious debut on BBC iPlayer and a late Saturday night timeslot on BBC One months after its US debut meant that Killing Eve’s arrival on our shores may have passed by many UK telly fans. What followed, thankfully, was proof of the continuing power of word-of-mouth hype. In offices and eateries, pubs and parties around the land, hushed voices shared impassioned praise for this scintillating slice of entertainment.
They raved about Jodie Comer’s unignorable performance as the loveable/unhinged Euro assassin, Villanelle. They marvelled at the sight of Sandra Oh as an obsessive investigator in a Beeb drama. They loved the bit when Fiona Shaw pulled out some cheese puffs. And, perhaps above all, they waved the flag for Phoebe Waller-Bridge, the Fleabag writer who imbued her darkly playful sense of humour into this binge-worthy cat-and-mouse thriller adaptation. The result was six tight episodes with more twist and turns than a Scalextric track, which left us gagging for series two. This second run is mercifully on the way, and you can be sure that the BBC will make a lot more noise about it.
Rob Leane
A Very English Scandal, BBC One
Based on a true story (and a book by John Preston), A Very English Scandal is lively, funny and joyously irreverent. Written by Russell T. Davies and directed by Stephen Frears, it boasts two excellent performances, one from Hugh Grant as scandalous politician Jeremy Thorpe, the other from Ben Whishaw as Thorpe’s former lover and would-be murder victim, Norman Scott.
Alongside the comedy, and—always Davies’ particular genius—not a bit undermined by it though, is the utter tragedy of it all. The devastation wreaked in gay lives by criminalisation. The law’s insistence on furtiveness and secrecy that made such a practised liar of Thorpe. And most of all, the unjust mechanism that allowed the establishment to pull up the drawbridge and protect itself from outliers like Scott.
Exhilarating and dynamic, without sacrificing the ability to say something serious amid all the madness, this tragicomedy of errors was a sensational adaptation in every sense of the word.
Louisa Mellor
Patrick Melrose, Sky Atlantic/Now TV
Five books, five episodes. David Nicholls’ adaptation of Edward St Aubyn’s novels – based on the author’s own experience of abuse and addiction – takes on the challenging task of condensing each volume of Patrick Melrose’s strange, sad story into a single instalment. The result is a mesmerising study of one man’s struggle to find his place in a glittering, brittle world of privilege as he seeks refuge in drugs to blunt the agony of unspeakable trauma.
Benedict Cumberbatch’s performance in the title role is extraordinary: a masterpiece of physical comedy, dry wit, and searing pain. Often hilarious, frequently heart-breaking, and always surprising, this psychologically astute and beautifully observed tale never demands sympathy for its poor little rich boy, yet wins it regardless. Excellent support from a cast including Jennifer Jason Leigh, Hugo Weaving, and Allison Williams adds still greater depth to an unforgettable series.
Gem Wheeler
Dynasties, BBC One
After the Planet Earth and Blue Planet sequels, you might have thought we’d reached peak Attenborough. But then came Dynasties, a wildlife-doc miniseries that not only pushed forward the eye-popping HD technology used to capture animals in the wild, but also brought us a laser-focused insight into its subjects’ lives in a way that we’ve never quite seen before.
The concept is simple but staggeringly effective. Five episodes. Five species (chimps, penguins, lions, painted wolves, tigers). Five tribes struggling to make their way in an increasingly harsh world, fighting off nature, predators and posturing rivals. There’s as much drama, politics and violence here as in an episode of Game Of Thrones, with heart-in-mouth set-pieces to match – see chimp king David’s fight to the (near)death with his would-be usurpers, or the young wolf pups getting ambushed by a hungry croc…
Dynasties is beautiful, brutal and emotional viewing, through which we’re guided by Sir David’s majestic narration.
Richard Jordan
Sharp Objects, Sky Atlantic
The past is inescapable in Sharp Objects, an eight-part mystery drama adapted by Marti Noxon from Gillian Flynn’s 2006 debut novel. In it, journalist Camille Preaker (Amy Adams) is sent by her editor back to her hometown of Wind Gap, Missouri, to write an article about the disappearance of local teenager Natalie Keene – is this related to the earlier murder of another teenager? Is there a serial killer on the loose? How dangerous is it to grow up in Wind Gap, anyway? Flashbacks to Camille’s own teenage years and relationship with her mother Adora (Patricia Clarkson) give us visions of a town pretty much unchanged, and strangely empty. Is it idyllic, or sinister?
It isn’t a melodrama or a crime thriller that lies at the heart of Sharp Objects. Episode after episode, with an excellent use of music and a compelling, believable performance by Amy Adams, it walks us further and further into the territory of gothic horror. The drama’s different elements and genres jostle against each other, creating unexpected, powerful moments in a dreamlike atmosphere.
Aliya Whiteley