Ross Anderson

Burned by the backlash to Lost, Damon Lindelof went in a new direction for his following show, The Leftovers. It also had a mystery at its center: why did a rapture happen where 2 percent of the world’s population instantly vanished on a random Friday? But whereas Lost set up an expectation of answers, only to disappoint, The Leftovers made it clear that there were no answers to this mystery. Over its unfortunately abrupt three seasons, neither the viewers nor the characters would ever find out why this event happened or what it meant; why some people were taken and why others were left behind. It wasn’t a puzzle to solve but a situation to cope with and live through. It’s the greatest TV show you haven’t seen.

There’s been a murder in the White House! The chief usher is dead on the third floor, under mysterious circumstances, while a state dinner is happening below, and nobody’s allowed to leave until a world-class detective cracks the case. It’s such an obviously good premise that it’s almost shocking that Agatha Christie never got to it; and though The Residence doesn’t get up to her level, and Cordelia Cupp (played by Uzo Aduba) is no Hercule Poirot, it’s a lot closer than it has any right to be. Out today on Netflix, this eight-episode show is a love letter to the murder mystery, with constant references to other fictional detectives and the episode titles borrowed from other famous entries.

LOG is the name of ungraded digital video footage. It’s flat, lifeless, and dark, but that’s fine because you can tweak, tune, and adjust in a way that was never possible with film, fiddling with exposure, contrast, saturation, and so forth. In those days, everything had to look as good as possible on the film. But, with the ability to grade in post, fix visual effects in post, and change backgrounds and designs in post, directors started getting lazy. And eventually, some convinced themselves that ugliness is a distinct stylist choice. It’s not laziness; it’s an aesthetic. I say all this as, in another era — an era with more care — Dope Thief could have been a great show.

We’re well into awards season, ladies and gentlemen, and though the Oscars always garner the most attention, and the Emmys cover the streaming entertainment Americans actually watch, the Grammys have always been among the most controversial awards shows.   The National Recording Academy hasn’t always been up to speed on what musicians are the most influential and deserving. With the Grammys, it seems the mood isn’t excitement about who will win, but anticipatory annoyance at who will be snubbed.   This year’s show was a little different though. Rising stars got the stage, for performances and trophies, and the biggest awards were apologies for the previously snubbed.  And so we get the Best Album of the Year, handed to Beyoncé for her country record, Cowboy Carter.

On its surface, “corporate art” is comforting and accessible. It’s bright, friendly and visually simple, featuring flat cartoon vector people — with their bendy arms and odd proportions — who are jumping, dancing, reading or running. They’re always happy. Always. This art is used in every HR manual, charity about-us page, Facebook help section and LinkedIn jobs application. It’s uniform, indistinct, impersonal and insincere. The more you see it, the more you start feeling unsettled. Severance, the Apple TV+ sci-fi office thriller show from Ben Stiller, leans into that discomfort. The managers at Lumon Industries have perfectly clipped hair and overly broad smiles with flashy grins. Their white-wall offices are clean and organized, accented with single-color carpets.

Shortly into the first episode of Landman, Billy Bob Thornton’s protagonist, Tommy Morris, is talking with his seventeen-year-old daughter, Ainsley, at a college football game. He's just met her quarterback boyfriend, and Tommy asks her if they’re being careful having sex. She replies yes and that they have one rule they stick by. Apologies in advance. “As long as he never cums in me, he can come anywhere on me,” she says. Thornton holds a comic frozen stare and excuses himself to get a Dr. Pepper. It’s funny and crude and has been seen by millions on YouTube Shorts, TikTok and Instagram Reels. But it does nothing to move the story along.

To say superhero films are in a rut is to understate how bad a state they're in. Deadpool 3 was underwhelming, yet it was still the only superhero film released this year that wasn't terrible. Its competition? Venom 3, Madame Web, Kraven the Hunter and Joker: Folie à Deux.  2023 was a bit better, with Guardians of the Galaxy 3 and Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse both being genuinely great. But otherwise? Ant-Man 3 was unwatchable. The Flash was horrific. The Marvels was aneurysm-inducing. Shazam! 2 was utterly forgettable. I did actually forget that Blue Beetle existed until I started writing this list. Oh yeah, and there was another Aquaman movie. It, like most of the films listed here, flopped.