Transparent

The first original series for Amazon Prime, Jill Soloway’s dramedy has already garnered widespread and well-deserved critical acclaim for its sensitive, tender and witty exploration of complex, chewy themes. Jeffrey Tambor stars as Mort, the father of three of three indulged and self-absorbed adult children – wealthy stay-at-home Mom Sarah (Amy Landecker), record producer and serial womanizer Josh (Jay Duplass), and clever but self-destructive Ali (Gaby Hoffman, incredible as always.) However, amidst Sarah, Josh and Ali’s respective romantic disasters and career flounderings, it’s Mort who is experiencing a belated self-discovery. Now in his seventies, Mort comes out as transgender, and begins to live life as Maura. Though there is an issue of representation in the show, as the lead role could (and should) have been given to a trans actor, Tambor’s performance is beautiful, and Maura is a vulnerable, often melancholy figure. Soloway’s characters are complicated and nettlesome, and she approaches sexuality and the body with compassion as well as an awareness of the selfish and clumsy nature of human interaction. It’s brilliant, intelligent and witty stuff.

Marco Polo

Netflix has always impressed with its original series, and so excitement was high for their new series, Macro Polo – and it hasn’t disappointed. In a world replete with greed, betrayal, sexual intrigue and rivalry, Marco Polo, starring newcomer Lorenzo Richelmy, is based on the famed explorer’s adventures in Kublai Khan’s court in 13th century China. With martial arts choreography that Kar Wai Wong would be proud of, a diverse cast that puts whitewashed productions like Exodus: Gods and Kings to shame, and a dash of Game of Thrones-style sensuality (and occasionally gratuitous female nudity); Marco Polo offers great production values and striking settings as well as solid pacing and cliff-hangers that will induce serious binge-watching. Exploring the experiences of a Westerner in an Eastern land, the series also delves into the complex bonds between fathers and sons, and the personal and political relationships between privileged leaders and oppressed women. It’ll also provide a nice Google session for history buffs, so enjoy.

The Killing

For those looking to fill the crime procedural void in your life now that Serial is over, you could do worse than turning your attention to The Killing. Based on the Danish series that’s also available on Netflix, the U.S. version of The Killing is a slow-burning mystery propelled by intriguing writing, complex characters and an unnerving eeriness. Giving away the main event of the series (hint: it’s in the title) in the first episode, the series relies not on melodrama or desperate reaching for overwrought mystery. Instead the series explores not just a murder, but its ripple affects on the people left living. In order to land the necessary emotional wallop, the show’s characters must be interesting and empathetic, and the ensemble cast are fantastic; often deftly transitioning from tragic and vulnerable to ambiguous and suspicious. Mireille Enos is fantastic as lead detective Sarah Linden, who not only provides an emotional base for the show, but effortlessly emits intelligence, making Linden’s thought process a compelling watch. The writing is consistently fearless, delving into the motivations and psychology of both criminals and victims with insight and intelligence, and the subtle but suspenseful atmosphere will keep this mystery lingering in your mind.

Breaking Bad

How could we have a list of the best TV series available to stream without mentioning that show that hijacked all our lives and conversations for five years? (Let’s face it, we’d be scared not to.) Vince Gilligan’s critically adored series Breaking Bad began as one of the unlikeliest shows on television; a show charting the steady moral decline of a chemistry teacher-turned-violent drug lord, starring that goofy Dad from Malcolm in the Middle. But the oddly compelling relationship between a meek, cancer-ridden family man Walter White (Bryan Cranston) and crass, petty criminal Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul) caught the imagination of everyone who recognised the seductive lure of power. As Walter transforms into a morally corrupt crystal meth lord, the show’s constant subversion of expectation keeps you on the edge of your seat, filled with excitement and terror at how the violence and corruption might unfold. Be warned: the show, with its brilliantly written, constantly evolving characters and intricate, Chekov’s gun-laden plots quickly becomes an experience; the thrill of belonging to a cultish club where nothing could ever be predicted, except unwavering loyalty. The problem now is that while it was acceptable to constantly talk about Breaking Bad two years ago, you’re now going to look like that sad person who can’t get over their ex. It’s okay though; we all secretly understand.

Black Mirror

Charlie Brooker’s brilliantly bleak exploration of the darker sides of life and technology is a constantly surprising, unexpected and often terrifying series that’s as clever as one would expect from one of the U.K.’s most acerbic cultural commentators. Brooker perfectly explained the episodic series, saying "If technology is a drug – and it does feel like a drug – then what, precisely, are the side-effects? This area – between delight and discomfort – is where Black Mirror, my new drama series, is set. The 'black mirror' of the title is the one you'll find on every wall, on every desk, in the palm of every hand: the cold, shiny screen of a TV, a monitor, a smartphone.” Imbued with techno-paranoia and a jet-black comedy philosophy, the satirical study of modern media is innovative, unexpected – but often unnervingly close to an imaginable reality. Addressing the shaming culture of YouTube and reality TV shows, our insatiable thirst for distraction and how technology could allow memory and even the dead to be recreated, Black Mirror is thought-provoking, witty and presents a brilliant and horrifying reflection of internet-age creepiness.

Arrested Development

Mixed reviews for the experimental third series notwithstanding, Arrested Development remains one of the most original, hilarious ad loyalty-rewarding comedies in years. Originally running on Fox from 2003 and 2006, the cult comedy show stars Jason Bateman as the ill-fated Michael Bluth, the epicentre of his quirky, dysfunctional family, who finds himself forced to stay in Orange County and run the family real estate business after his father, George Bluth Sr., is sent to prison for committing white-collar crime. He tries to juggle the wants and needs of his spoiled and eccentric family while being a good role model for his teenage son, George Michael. The star studded cast includes comedian David Cross, Portia de Rossi, Jeffrey Tambor, Tony Hale, Michael Cera and Alia Shawkat, and the off-centre comedy is filled with the finest examples of running gags, surreal humour and never-nudes. The blazing wit, brilliant characters and interlocking jokes make it perfect for addiction-fuelled binge viewing.

Orange is the New Black

Jenjji Kohan’s brilliant, hilarious and multi-dimensional series is based on Piper Kerman’s memoir, Orange is the New Black: My Year in a Woman’s Prison, and is purportedly the tale of spoiled WASP Piper, who is sentenced to fifteen months in a woman’s federal prison for helping her ex-girlfriend transport drug money a decade earlier. However, Piper is in fact the least interesting character of this brilliant ensemble drama, which explores the lives of a hugely diverse group of women – both before their incarceration and the unique dynamics and relationships that unfold within the prison walls. With each episode dedicated to examining the backstory of one of the countless fascinating characters, it’s impossible to pick just one stand-out. There’s Sophia (the transcendent Laverne Cox), a black transgender woman who put her freedom and marriage at risk to become herself; Suzanne “Crazy Eyes” Warren, the misunderstood childlike romantic who has extreme ways of expressing affection; Lorna Morella, a constantly chipper New Jersey native convinced her fiancée Christopher will be waiting for her when she’s released; Daya, who is having a tender but troublesome relationship with prison guard Bennett; and Pennsatucky, a religious zealot who constantly causes havoc. The show is ground-breaking in its diverse, female cast, and the writing is consistently witty, dynamic and deeply emotional.

Louis Theroux

One of the best interviewers and documentarians working today, Louis Theroux’s trademark mild-manners and impeccable manners make his forays into intriguing and often shocking worlds endlessly entertaining; and his ability to talk to anyone results endlessly fascinating revelations. In this series, Theroux moves into a Nevada brothel to explore the lives of the sex workers and their Johns; he meets infamous American white supremacist Tom Metzger and a groups of neo-Nazis; explores the plastic surgery culture of Beverley Hills; and the world of professional porn. While Theroux’s subjects are innately intriguing, it’s his ability to treat all his interviewees with respect and compassion while challenging them that makes the series compelling viewing. Highlights include his experiences with the notoriously homophobic Westboro Baptist Church and his examination of Miami mega-jails.

Archer

An animated comedy, Archer is most definitely not a cartoon for kids. Offensive, tasteless and utterly hilarious, the irreverent and off-centre satirical comedy focuses on the employees of a spy agency (unfortunately formerly called ISIS, but creator Adam Reed has dropped this name in light of recent events.) Racist, sexist, bigoted, addiction-laden, and in engaged in a constant cycle of emotional and sexual harassment; the characters are fast-talking, zinger-firing hot-heads – not least leading man Sterling Archer (voiced by H. Jon Benjamin), a mix of Don Draper and Frank Drebin. An alcoholic, womanizing spy who stumbles rather than struts into espionage success, his working life is made more complicated by the fact that his ex-girlfriend Lana (Aisha Taylor) and sex-crazed mother (Jessica Walter) are his colleagues. Raunchy, cruel and deeply acerbic, the uproarious show plays on every fear the world has about U.S. government intelligence – namely, that the phrase itself may be a tragic oxymoron.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

The beloved fruit of Joss Whedon’s prolific mind-loins, the comedy fantasy horror series became an instant classic for young freaks and geeks wanting to experience a combined explosion of feminist pop culture and tingly new hormones. Starring Sarah Michelle Gellar as the titular ass-kicking heroine, Whedon’s seven seasons ran the gamut of fantastical monsters, from sexy (but thankfully sparkle-free) vampires to witches and demons. But while Buffy’s romantic, sexual and fateful interactions with the supernatural provided the plot, the real enjoyment came from the blend of straightforward scares, witty humour, deep friendships and serious female empowerment. Whedon’s clever writing addresses the veritable horror of adolescence, subverting clichéd teen genres to provide a funny and often poignant portrait of teens trying to navigate school, young love, overbearing parents – while also preventing the apocalypse. With a solid cast including Alyson Hannigan, David Boreanaz, Seth Green and Michelle Trachtenberg, it’s a hugely enjoyable blast from the past.