TVGarth Ginsburg

Top 10 Follow Up: 40 Episodes That Are Also Pretty Damn Great

TVGarth Ginsburg
Top 10 Follow Up: 40 Episodes That Are Also Pretty Damn Great

    When I sat down to make the top ten favorite episodes article, I decided to start by making a giant list of TV episodes I liked. There was a rigorous qualification process:

  1.     “Hey, do I like that show?”
  2.     “I do? Cool. Any episode that stands out in any particular way?”
  3.     “Multiple episodes, maybe? Which one you like more?”
  4.     “Great. It goes on the list.”

    I made the list. I published it. I’m still as happy with it as I can be. But then I had this massive list of unused content… I mean, TV episodes. So I figured, “Why not do something with this list.” So here’s the list, in alphabetical order, plus a thought or two depending on how well I remember it/what stands out. (No I didn’t rewatch all forty episodes on this list. I love you, but I've got a life to live. Apartment hunting. All that shit.)

    There are some shows I love that didn’t make this initial list because there isn’t one specific episode that stands out, or the individual parts make up a whole I like more than the parts, or just plain ol’ arbitrary bullshit. (Love you, Mr. Robot, Clone High, Nathan For You, Chappelle’s Show, and a whole bunch more) That said, this is meant to be a love-in. Sure, most of these episodes were never going to make the list. Sure, some of these episodes come from heavily flawed shows. Sure, plenty are too recent and there aren’t enough non-golden age shows again. But hey, this is all about the love, man. Want to talk about some TV? Let’s talk about some TV. Haven't seen a show on this list? Great! Here's some ideas on what to watch next. 

    Only rule here is, again, one episode per show. This is a rather large list and I don’t want this article to take a million years. Also, if there’s a star in front of the episode title, it means that the episode made an early version of the main list. Other than that, not a whole lot to it. Apologies for the lack of screen shots and the sloppier-than-usual prose style. In a bit of a time crunch here. 

    (Also, this article's a typo laden mess as this one took forever and I wrote the bulk of it in an airport. Once again, apologies.)


30 Rock, “Episode 210”

    To put it simply, 30 Rock was always at its best when it didn’t give a fuck. Most of the episodes from season two could’ve made this list, but “Episode 210” sticks out in my mind because of all the strangeness that almost assuredly cost the show viewers. This is, after all, an episode that features German tinged existentialism, a storyline about a short lived romance with a co-op board, a literal romance that meets its end in a Pennsylvania betting parlor, and ends with a cast rendition of “Midnight Train to Georgia.” Why did 30 Rock struggle with ratings despite its obvious greatness, you ask?

American Crime Story: The People vs. O.J. Simpson, “The Race Card”

    “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia” will probably go down as the great episode of this series, and for good reasons. However, “The Race Card” is the episode that sold me on not only this particular show, but the idea that the O.J. trial was in any way interesting. Though I’m young, I've always been familiar with the details of the case. (I come from a family of lawyers, mind you.) I thought everything that needed to be said about the O.J. case had already been said a long time ago. Then I watched Chris Darden beg Marcia Clarke not to put Fuhrman on the stand.  It suddenly occurred to me how far removed the DA's office must've been to the state of race relations in this country. Maybe that's how O.J. got away with it. 

    The People vs. O.J. Simpson, as well as the incredible O.J.: Made in America, convinced me that the O.J. trial actually mattered in the grand scheme of American history. “The Race Card” started that train of thought.

Archer, “Placebo Effect”

    RAMPAGE!!!!!!!!

Arrested Development, “Mr. F.” 

    Just about every episode of Arrested Development is a marvel of story structuring and inside jokes. I could try to sound analytical and write smart person stuff, but honestly, I picked this episode because of the mole fight. I remember watching it for the first time, and I still laugh just as hard as I did in those high school days. 

    Arrested Development deserves more thought than this. I’ll figure out some way to do it. 

Better Call Saul, “Five-O”

    Thanks in large part to “Five-O,” the only thing we have left to learn about Mike Ehrmantraut is how he transitions from the Mike of Better Call Saul to the Mike of Breaking Bad. But now we have a more or less complete picture. 

    The fascinating part about Mike is the difference between his origins and that of the rest of the Breaking Bad crew. Most of the characters have a moment where they literally “break bad.” Walter White does so in the Breaking Bad pilot. Skyler White (arguably) does so in “I.F.T.” Turns out Mike was… always kind of bad. He convinced his son to take kickbacks, and this decision led to a series of bad choices that’ll eventually lead to his death. More than not, we know his past, present, and future. 

    What sets Mike apart from the other Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul universe characters is his code. (At least of the characters on the criminal side.) In a way, Mike’s story is the most tragic. He’s a sad man who lost his son, and this leads him down a path that ends with him being killed by someone more villainous and petty than anyone he’s ever worked for. And it’s his own fault.

Boardwalk Empire, “Under God’s Power She Flourishes”

    It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this episode, but I still remember how it feels. Jimmy’s wife was murdered by Manny Horvitz, and while events play out in the present, we’re treated to a flashback storyline of Jimmy’s Princeton days. It all goes relatively smooth, until his mother shows up. Once that plays out, and Jimmy’s fate is set towards the trenches of Germany, we abruptly cut to the present where Jimmy snorts heroin from his bed like a wild animal. The whole episode starts to feel like an exhausting drug fueled fever dream.

    Boardwalk Empire was always doomed to a weird fate. It’s creators wanted to make their own thing, but everyone wanted The Sopranos. It doesn’t belong in the pantheon of great golden age television, but it was still a fun and often fascinating show that deserved a little more credit than it got. 

BoJack Horseman, “Escape from L.A.”

    Quandary: I’ve only seen this episode in its entirety once. I should’ve rewatched it so I could have more to say. The problem, however, is that I would have to, you know, watch it again. There’s plenty of darkness on this list, but I don’t think I can handle "Escape from L.A." again anytime soon. 

    “Escape from L.A.” is a devastating episode of television. In a weird way, it’s almost like BoJack Horseman’s answer to “Long Term Parking.” (Or more specifically, all of season six, part one.) BoJack leaves L.A. for New Mexico. He stays for two months, and he’s seem to have found some sort of happiness. But time has a way of eroding satisfaction, and BoJack’s impulse toward self-destruction rears its ugly head. He con’t stop pining for Charlotte and he sees too much of her in her teenage daughter, Penny. 

    Can BoJack be saved? Much like Tony Soprano, probably not. BoJack Horseman is still a young show, so he might find salvation yet. But I kind of doubt it. 

*The Boondocks, “Return of the King”

    At it’s worst, The Boondocks could be pretty bad. It was always funny, but the storytelling could feel aimless in its worst installments. The good news is that every season gets a little better at handling this problem. All three of them. (What fourth season? There was no fourth season.) At it’s best, The Boondocks was one of the most scathing TV satires of all time. Just take a look at the BET episodes. 

    “Return of the King” made the first draft of the list on premise alone: Martin Luther King Jr. survives his assassination attempt, but winds up in a coma. He wakes up, and we watch the great man attempt to deal with the darker aspects of hip hop culture, the internet, a post 9/11 United States, and the overall state of the African American community. He can't cope with any of it, and nobody knows how to cope with his presence. 

    I watched it again, and while structurally it’s a little wobbly, it still has teeth. “Return of the King” is brutal and kind of sad. It may not be the best told story, but it’s still funny and astoundingly poignant. 

Broad City, “Knockoffs” 

    I like it when comedies get emotional. Well, more specifically, I like it when comedies I don’t expect to get emotional get emotional. Up until “Knockoffs,” Broad City had been an exceptional comedy about ninety five percent of the women I went to college with. But then we got “Knockoffs," an episode about grief and heartbreak. 

     Illana’s grandmother just died. Her mother Bobbi’s lust for knockoff handbags leads Illana and Bobbi down a bizarre road that starts with street vendors, goes to secret collections down manhole covers, and ends with Bobbi in tears once she reveals that all this effort was made so she could take her mind off her mother’s death. Meanwhile, Abbi’s finally landed Jeremy, her dreamy thirty something neighbor. Their date starts fine, but the romance devolves as a result of her mistreatment of his custom made dildo and the surprisingly rational feelings about sexual hang-ups it brings up. Whereas most relationships on the show end in absurdity, this one ends because he’s overly sensitive and she doesn’t take his values seriously. 

    Both stories end in a kind of heartbreak, and I found it surprisingly touching. Cathartic moments in comedies make you care, and after “Knockoffs,” I had higher emotional stakes in the show than ever. 

Carnivàle, “Pick a Number”

    I’ve only watched this episode once, and it was years ago. I remember the general framework of “Pick a Number,” but I forget most of the nuances. I’ll never forget that ending though. I’d go into further details, but that would require explaining this show, and I don’t know how to begin even trying that. Suffice to say that this is one of the most bizarre shows HBO ever made, and while it’s imperfect and it ended earlier than it should’ve, it’s a fascinating and worth your time. 

    I really need to watch Carnivàle again. Soon.

    Also, one time I met Daniel Knauf in an elevator. I awkwardly asked him if he was the guy who created Carnivàle. He said yes, and we proceeded to have a nice chat about the state of HBO around the show’s creation. (Essentially, they had a ton of money, and weren’t quite sure what to do with it.) Fascinating guy.

Fargo, “Buridan’s Ass” 

    I seem to be in the rare minority of people who prefer season one to season two. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the second season. However, one of the things I liked about season one was how the mob operated either through Malvo exclusively or played out mostly in the background. It was a season about a normal guy embracing the darker parts of himself, whereas season two, while keeping the strangeness intact, focused more on traditional mob machinations. 

    “Buridan’s Ass” is an episode that embraces the tragedy of normal people whose paths cross with the criminal world. Don Chumph is a fitness instructor who turns to blackmail. He’s a complete buffoon, but I don’t think anyone would say he deserves the grizzly fate he meets at the hands of Malvo. Milos finds the cash stash from the movie and uses it to build his fortune. Unethical, maybe, but does he deserve to lose his son? Even those charged with keeping criminals in check pay a price. Molly and Gus get caught in a firefight with two mob hitmen and Malvo during a white out, and Gus ends up accidentally shooting Molly. While in most of these cases, the supposed cause and effect are barely related, the show seems to suggest that all these events serve as some sort of punishment. 

    Or maybe it just seems that way, what with so many people caught in the storm.

Freaks and Geeks, “Kim Kelly Is My Friend”

    There seems to be a theme in this list of honorable mentions, as well as the main list, of me prioritizing the episode of a show that got me hooked. “Kim Kelly Is My Friend” was that episode for me with Freaks and Geeks, but I would also argue that it’s the kind of episode that made Freaks and Geeks special. Whereas most high school shows of the time focused on low stakes dating between jocks and cheerleaders, Freaks and Geeks was not only following the social outcasts, but also exploring the depths of what it’s like to be a teenager dealing with issues of actual emotional consequence. 

    Case in point: Kim Kelly is from an abusive home, and we can see that rooted in most of her behavior. The Weirs have no idea how to handle someone like Kim, and as we plummet into Kim’s emotional abyss, Kim and her friends swarm upon their household like locusts. Only, you know, instead of biblical plagues it’s teenagers. 

    I was a junior in high school when I first picked up the DVD set and saw this episode. It was unlike any depiction of teens or high school I had ever seen before, and I appreciated it because I liked how it took my angsty high school pain seriously. Now I’m in my early twenties, and I think most of the things I did and felt in high school were pretty stupid. Yet, this episode still packs the same punch because it isn’t just angst. It’s real life shit for a person unequipped to handle it. My circumstances are much different, but damn can I relate. 

Futurama, “The Late Philip J. Fry”

    Picking a favorite Futurama episode was surprisingly difficult. Essentially, the question was, “Do I go for the funniest episode, or do I go for an emotional episode?” My gut feeling was to go for an emotional one. You’ve been reading this list, or you've scrolled down and saw everything before hopefully digging your heels in, and you should know by now that this is how I usually lean. However, Futurama is a rare occurrence where the emotional ones don’t stand out as much in my mind as the funny ones. I think it might have something to do with the fact that Futurama is one of my earliest TV loves, and the emotional episodes bring out some shit. I don't know. 

    Then I realized I could have both. It took a while for me to convince myself to pick an episode from the reboot seasons, but “The Late Philip J. Fray” has everything a good Futurama episodes requires. A great sci-fi gimmick, in this case the time machine that only goes forward. Great jokes. A well-done Fry/Leela story. On top of all that, add a sense of scope, and it makes a truly exceptional episode of the show. 

Game of Thrones, “And Now His Watch Has Ended”

    Not including this one, we’re going to be talking about Game of Thrones in about nine articles from now, so I’m not going to say much here. Suffice to say that I have somewhat of a conflicted relationship with the show in that there are aspects I love about Game of Thrones and aspects I absolutely loathe. (Mostly in regard to storytelling philosophy, not content.) 

    For now, let’s just say that Game of Thrones is a show that excels more in individual moments rather than larger stories, and Daenerys taking control of the Unsullied and ordering them to kill their former masters is probably my favorite moment. It’s grand. It’s swift. It actually moves the story forward. It’s everything I want out of Game of Thrones.

    (Note: The upcoming article isn’t just complaining about structure. Don’t worry.)

*Generation Kill, “Bomb in the Garden”

    The Alpha and Bravo companies of the First Reconnaissance Battalion have been waiting for a long time to get to Baghdad. They’ve put up with hectic combat, shoddy rules of engagement, and breathtaking incompetence, but in the beginning of “Bomb in the Garden,” they finally arrive. It doesn’t take long for them to realize there’s nothing they can do to help anyone that would actually last. Baghdad is just too huge, and the list of problems too vast. 

    As they realize that everything they’ve been through is pretty much for nought, they start to come apart at the seems. There’s no descents into madness like many a Vietnam movie. It’s more like depression. The incompetence has finally taken it’s toll on the battalion as a whole, and there’s nothing left to do but fight each other and reflect. As the reporter finally leaves, it’s no wonder that the only person who seems to be at peace is Trombly, Bravo’s psychopath. 

    Generation Kill is about a volunteer army who signed up with a purpose in mind. What that purpose may be is up for us to decide, but either way, “Bomb in the Garden” is the episode they all fully realize the extent of the bullshit.

Homeland, “Q&A” 

    Remember when Homeland was at its peak? Remember that thing none of us thought it was going to do until the end of the show? Remember how it did that thing in the first half of season two? Man, I miss those days. 

    (For the record, I dropped off the show at the end of season three. I heard it kind of came around again. Maybe I’ll circle back one day.)

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, “Charlie Kelly: King Of The Rats” 

    I love seeing the gang come together. Not only is it a nice break from the usual, but I always find it touching in it’s own weird way. I had a debate in my head between this episode and “The Nightman Cometh,” another episode about the gang actually getting along for once. The latter is the bigger comedy spectacle, but I think “Charlie Kelly: King Of The Rats” is a more interesting episode of television. It doesn’t really have a story. There is a goal, cheer up Charlie, but most of the episode is just the characters “being.” And somehow it works. And I don't know why. 

Justified, “Fire in the Hole” 

    It’s not uncommon for a show to take a while to find itself. Most of the time it has to do with tone. Community got a whole lot better when it stopped trying to be a traditional sitcom and The Boondocks got a whole lot better when the storytelling caught up to the quality of the satire. Justified’s identity crises had less to do with tone and more to do with format. For a while, it thought it was a case-of-the-week show, when it was a great serialized drama all along.

    But, tonally speaking, have you ever seen a show understand itself as quickly as Justified? True, the tone would change in later seasons, but that had more to do with character development than storytelling structure. It also had the advantage of having an Elmore Leonard short story to work with, but I don’t think I’ve seen a show start with such confidence in what it was in its first outing.

*The Leftovers, “International Assassin”

    Much like Game of Thrones, we’ll be discussing season two of The Leftovers in greater detail later on this site, so I don’t want get too far into it here.

    I will say, however, that the only reason “International Assassin” didn’t make the top ten was because of its youth. I’m positive that in a few years from now, I’ll look at this list and regret leaving "International Assassin" off.

Lost, “The Constant”

    To be perfectly honest, I don’t remember this episode that well. I tried watching it again, but I didn’t remember the context of anything that was happening, and Lost had too complex a mythology to simply read a wiki. 

    I do remember watching this episode. I remember the basics and how this episode made me feel, and I still think it’s worthy of the shortlist. I keep thinking I need to rewatch Lost, but then I remember how frustrating it was and I can’t bring myself to do it. Maybe I just need to power through.

Master of None, “Nashville”

    Grand romantic epics take time and effort, and if you think about it, they’re really inconvenient. That’s part of the reason I think we respond to romantic comedies: Because they’re tangible. You don’t have to have some grand love that lasts decades and cause wars or whatever. You can simply meet someone and walk around for a while.

    Or you can make it a quick weekend getaway, as is the case with, “Nashville.” I write this a week after the announcement of the Emmy nominations. Though it seems like they submitted “Parents” for the major categories, a smart move given the demographics of the Emmy voters, I think “Nashville” is the triumph of Master of None’s first season. Dev and Rachel go to Nashville. They have a great time, they get into a fight, they make up, and they go home. That’s all that really happens, and yet it feels as romantic and intoxicating as any great romantic comedy. Not the corny ones you watch on airplanes though. The good ones.

The Office, “The Job”

    “The Job” offers us a glimpse into a whole new show, one where Michael gets promoted to the corporate ranks of Dunder Mifflin and Jim moves to New York with Karen. On the surface, it appears as though there would only be a shift in positions. Dwight would become manager and Pam would become his number two/the new Jim. It seems like everything would be alright in the long run.         

    But it feels wrong. The Office works because of its relatability, and putting the most cartoonish character in charge of the office, and by extension the show, feels like a breach of that sacred contract. More importantly, Jim and Pam just… just fucking belong together damn it! Luckily, before the end of the episode, the word is set right. 

    Jim and Pam forever. Man. 

Orange is the New Black, “Lesbian Request Denied”

    I considered a bunch of different episodes of Orange is the New Black for this list, but I ultimately went with this one for two reasons.

    "Lesbian Request Denied" is the first true showing of the genius that is Uzo Aduba’s performance of Crazy Eyes. Suzanne is a highly energetic character with a lot of unique quirks, and as such, it would be easy for her to come off as a bit too cartoonish in the wrong hands. Luckily, we have Uzo Aduba, who knows how to straddle the line between Suzanne’s animated personality and her humanity. Even more impressive is how every season, Aduba seems to find something new to bring out in Suzanne, and every time she knocks it out of the park. 

    The other reason is, of course, the story of Sophia Burset. I don’t know nearly enough about the minutia of trans life as I should. It never occurred to me that a story like Burset’s could even happen, nor did it occur to me how much theoretical control a prison could have over a transsexual person’s body. I was instantly rendered uncomfortable by my own lack of shock. However, the story goes beyond simple bodily harm. Now that Burset is once again being forced into a circumstance where she’s trapped in her own body, she could chose to give Pornstache what he wants, but she decides to not give him the satisfaction knowing full well what it could cost. From that moment on, a second character was added to my ever expanding list of all time favorite Orange is the New Black characters. 

Oz, “A Game of Checkers”

    …Speaking of prison.

    Oz is my ultimate indulgence show. Plenty of movies and TV shows have claimed that “anything can happen at any time,” but Oz was the only show where it actually felt true. If there was a character you didn’t like, then you could watch comfortably knowing that not only is that character’s chances for survival severely slim, but also that they're going to die in some gruesomely satisfying manner. Sure, it made the occasional point about the oppressiveness of the prison system in its early years, but to oversimplify a little bit, it was mostly a show about people murdering each other.

    (There’s a lot Game of Thrones could learn from Oz in how to get rid of unwanted characters.)

    “A Game of Checkers” is a chaotic episode of a show that already revels in pure chaos. A riot’s been brewing for the entirety of the first season, but it finally comes in the finale not as a result of any plan, but over a fist fight about a game of checkers. The riot turns into a hostage situation, and the hostage situation ends in a butchering of the prisoners. As I said, for all it’s indulgence, Oz certainly had its moments of poignancy. 

Paranoia Agent, “Double Lips”

    Paranoia Agent is the only anime show I’ve watched in its entirety. It’s been years since I’ve watched the show, let alone this episode, but I remember more of it than not. Paranoia Agent is incredibly bizarre, but it’s also just really cool. Case in point: “Double Lips,” one of the best depictions of dissociative identity disorder, or what we commonly know as multiple personalities. (Note that I’m not talking about an accurate representation of multiple personalities as a disorder. I’m talking about the story trope.)

    Unfortunately, I don’t remember a whole lot of the story, but the basic premise is that two personalities are fighting for control of the body. There’s Maria, a cold-hearted prostitute, and Harumi, a repressed tutor we've already met in the previous episode. The two personalities communicate to each other via an answering machine. Maria turns a particularly creepy trick, then goes home and listens to a message from Harumi. From here on in, we spend most of our time with Harumi and we watch the battle from her perspective as the situation becomes more and more like a waking nightmare. 

    I really wish I remembered more of the nuances, but I’ll never forget anything as fucking creepy as “Double Lips.”

Parks and Recreation, “Leslie and Ron”

    Sorry to keep doing this, but again, we’ll be talking about Parks and Recreation, and specifically elements of this episode, later in the blog.

    But for now, suffice to say that I think “Leslie and Ron” is sort of what the show was always leading to. After all, Parks and Recreation is in large part about friendships and unions, and this is an episode that brings what is arguably the core relationship of the show back together: Ron and Leslie. The final season reveals that in the years before the big jump forward that ended the previous season, Ron and Leslie had a serious falling out. This episode finally reveals the details of what happened, and for a show that likes to keep things lighthearted, the reasons are surprisingly sad.

   Without these two, there would be no show. Without their bond, the world is chaos. Luckily “Ron and Leslie” restores order.

Rescue Me, “Torch”

    Somewhere out there, there’s a club for frustrating-but-good shows. The kind of shows where the lows are insanely low but the highs are so high that they keep your loyalty regardless. When I say “lows” by the way, I’m not talking about emotional lows. I’m talking, “You’re making bad TV when you could be/were making great TV and please stop making bad TV.” Rescue Me is a member of that club. I can see it now, sharing drinks with Battlestar Galactica and Lost.

    Just to be clear, I do love these shows, and I fell in love with Rescue Me from the very first episode. Alas, it’s been too long since the last time I’ve watched it, but there are episodes and moments in the show that are pretty hard to forget. One such example is “Torch.” In the beginning of the episode, the crew comes upon the burnt corpse of a little girl. Everyone’s too horrified to deal with it, except of course, for Tommy Gavin. We then follow the rest of the team trying to handle what they’ve seen. Some take out their frustrations in the ring. Some on the homestead. Tommy drinks, and feels nothing. 

    It’s an examination of a character who’s been through so much that nothing short of physical torture allows him to feel anymore. From 9/11 to losing his son to disastrous relationships to alcohol fueled self-destruction, we’re now five seasons in, and Tommy’s skin is made of Teflon. Or so he tries to disprove to himself by singeing his own flesh with a blowtorch. The same part of himself that can’t feel is the same part of himself that allows him to save lives and comfort those in need. Rescue Me had its weaknesses, but its lead character was never one of them.

*Rick and Morty, “Rick Potion #9”

    Much like “International Assassin,” I’ll eventually regret not putting “Rick Potion #9” on the main list. It's a point I've already made in this article, but it’s a point worth making again: Sadness makes comedies better. Healthy injections of sorrow bring out the laughter because there’s a comparative nature to our emotions. (C'mon, you saw Inside Out. You already know this!) It’s why we look for arcs in our stories. To put it simply, the more shit characters goes through, the more you’re going to root for them. 

    I told myself I wasn’t going to say “Just watch the episode.” But seriously. Just watch the episode. Maybe I haven’t seen enough TV, but I feel confidant in saying that I’ve never seen an ending like the one in "Rick Potion #9" in my entire life. 

Rome, “The Spoils” 

    In many ways, Rome was a trial run for Game of Thrones. There’s a lot of politicking, alliances, betrayal, bloodshed. All the things you want in an episode of Game of Thrones, only in a different place and time. It wasn’t a perfect show, but despite its imperfections, I have a great deal of fondness for it. There’s a part of me that thinks it could’ve done better if it had come later in HBO’s life when it had more money. 

    At the core of the show was the friendship between Lucious Vorenus, the violently uptight, and Titus Pullo, the fun loving buffoon/vehicle for making good TV happen. They couldn’t be further apart, but their bond always had a weird amount of emotional depth for me, and the ultimate expression of that depth is when Vorenus saves Pullo in the gladiator pit. You could argue that the scene itself may be a bit corny, but it gets me.

    That, and the whole gladiator scene appeals to my inner twelve year old. 

Scrubs, “My Lunch”

    I will defend Scrubs until my dying breath.

    I don’t know where the Scrubs backlash came from. I assume it has a lot to do with Zach Braff, but I’ve never really heard a satisfying answer. Scrubs had a formula, and it certainly got away from itself towards the end, but it had well-developed characters, a strange yet inviting sense of humor, and when it really wanted to, it could definitely hit some emotional notes.

    My favorite example of this is “My Lunch.” After the death of Jill, a recurring patient in the hospital, Dr. Cox tells JD to not blame himself when patients die. It's part of the job, and it can ruin a doctor if he's not careful. Then Dr. Cox makes a call that kills three patients. He blames himself and walks out of the hospital on an assured path to self-destruction. It’s a heartbreaking scene to watch, provided you can forgive the use of that song. You know. The one that's the theme song to that other medical show. 

The Shield, “Family Meeting”

    I watched every season of The Shield on DVD during my sophomore year of college. I liked it a lot, but never to the extent that a lot of people did while it was on the air. Maybe it’s age. I don’t know. I probably don’t have a whole lot of insight to add to this show, but it bears repeating, The Shield ended perfectly. 

    You can’t kill Vic Mackey. That’s too predictable. So is prison. Thus the show decided to stick him in his own personal hell: Behind a desk. We can argue all day as to what Vic was chasing throughout the show. Maybe there was a part of him that wanted to do some good. Maybe he was just a thug who wanted to beat people up. Either way, he’s now stuck in a place where he can’t chase it anymore. Yet he picks up his gun anyway.

The Simpsons, "Cape Feare"

Sideshow bob stepping on rakes, from the episode Cape Feare, S05E02, of The Simpsons

Six Feet Under, “I’m Sorry, I’m Lost”

    Conventional wisdom dictates that I pick “Everyone’s Waiting.” While it’s the perfect ending for the show, I don't think it's an episode that represents the show as a whole. (I realize I mostly picked episodes that go against the grain, but… shut up.)

    If you remember in the Mad Men section of the main article, we talked about earned moments of vulnerability. The first time that notion ever occurred to me came at the end of “I’m Sorry, I’m Lost.” Nate Fisher’s wife Lisa went missing a few episodes back, and we finally figure out her fate. Nate goes to a bar and gets his face punched in. The ghost of his father tries to talk him into killing himself, but he ends up where he was always going to end up: At Brenda’s door. 

    Most of Nate Fisher’s life is spent being Six Feet Under’s punching bag. For every traumatic experience the show threw at Nate, he would only burrow further into the worst aspects of his personality. A lot of people didn’t care for Nate, but I always had a soft spot for him. Or at the very least, I think most of his behavior is pretty damn justified. 

South Park, “The Return of the Fellowship of the Ring to the Two Towers”

    If you’ll allow me to get a little nerdy, the mini-commentaries on the South Park DVDs were my introduction to the concept of story telling structure. I didn’t learn how to structure a script yet. That wouldn’t come later. They simply introduced me to the idea that, “Oh. Structure’s a thing. Good to know.”

    “The Return of the Fellowship of the Ring to the Two Towers” is some of the best pure storytelling the show has to offer. It’s not the kind of episode the show is known for, and truth be told I almost went with “You’re Getting Old.” Still. I sit down and I want to watch an episode of South Park. I’ll want to watch an episode like this one. While there’s plenty of satirically bent episodes that still pack some punch, my favorite episodes of the show were always the ones where the kids were just being kids.  

The Thick of It, “Series 4 - Episode 4”

    I’ve showed a few Veep fans some episodes from The Thick of It, and they’re all surprised by the anger and the tension. One time I described this show to a friend and she said, “It sounds like the moments from Veep where they’re yelling at Jonah, but, like, a whole show of that.” And you know what? That’s a pretty good description. 

    Some of those Veep fans are turned off by the severe tone of the predecessor, but that’s part of the reason I like it so much. “Series 4 - Episode 4” may be the show’s darkest hour. As Nicola Murray, the claustrophobic head of the opposition party, is stuck on a train, Malcolm Tucker is busy getting her fired. At some point, she realizes what’s going on, and she realizes that there’s nothing she can do about it. 

    A communications director getting his boss fired may not sound like particularly tense TV, but there’s something to Nicola being stuck in a tin can while frantically trying to protect her job that makes me sweat a little. The Thick of It doesn’t do backstabbing. It does frontstabbing, and it says horrible things to you while it does it. 

Treme, “Do Watcha Wanna” 

    Treme was David Simon’s positive show. If The Wire was about the failure of American cities, Treme offered up the idea that all is not lost. Maybe this city thing we all avail ourselves of could work out, provided the system isn’t hijacked for personal gain, and places like New Orleans don’t come out of nowhere. Don’t get me wrong, Treme was still a pretty grim show when it wanted to be. But at least there was a light at the end of the tunnel. 

    Season two was a rough one for the citizens of New Orleans. Antoine starts a band, but it doesn’t work out. Davis gets a taste for success, and it’s slowly dashed. The Bernette family had a tough year in the shadow of Creighton’s suicide, and Toni hits a major brick wall in the shooting case. LaDonna almost sells her bar in the wake of her rape. Finally, in a particularly gut-wrenching scene, Annie’s mentor Harley is shot and killed right in front of her. 

    Some end the season a little better. Some a little worse. In the end, as it always seems to do in New Orleans, the music and the culture brings everybody together. And then, of course, Davis lets Pops tell it. 

True Detective, “The Secret Fate of All Life”

    True Detective always had its faults, even during its first season. I wasn’t crazy about the first few episodes of the show, as to me it was just a bunch of gruff men gruffing at each other about nonsensical life philosophies. In fact, when people were having True Detective vs. Fargo debates, I found myself pretty firmly on team Fargo. 

    That said, there’s no denying this episode.

    Truth be told, I don’t have much to say about "The Secret Fate of All Life," and I have no idea whether or not it holds up. There’s a part of me that thinks that the first season of True Detective will go down as one of those shows that was very big for a few moments, then we all forgot about it because of the end game. (Season two, not the finale. This may be for another article, but for those of you who were expecting the show to enter the realm of the supernatural, I don’t know what show you were watching.) But we’ll always have “The Secret Fate of All Life.” We’ll always have it. It’ll linger. Like blue balls of the soul. 

    That was forced.

Twin Peaks, “Episode 29”

    I don’t know if this is actually the best episode of Twin Peaks. I don’t even know if I actually think this is a good episode of television or not. I just love the idea of ending a show on the most psychotic note possible. Make of that what you will. 

The Venture Bros., “Everybody Comes to Hank’s”

    One of the more unique elements of The Venture Bros., besides the ability to stuff more story into an episode than pretty much any show I’ve ever seen, is that it takes aging seriously. Whereas most shows keep their characters in stasis for the sake of continuity, the characters on The Venture Bros. grow old and change. When a character dies, they stay dead. When something traumatic happens, as is often the case, the trauma lingers.

    It makes perfect sense then that an episode about Hank starting his own detective agency would spiral into one of the darkest episodes of the show. "Everybody Comes to Hank's" starts as one of the broader comedy episodes, what with the liberal use of black and white and Hank speaking with hilarious noir movie slang. We then eventually watch Hank lose his virginity, and then we see the appalling consequences of who he chose as a mate. 

    While this list has plenty of well-earned darkness, “Everybody Comes to Hank’s” handles that transition with the weight it deserves while still being funny. Despite the darker than usual reveal in the end, it still feels like an episode of The Venture Bros.

You’re The Worst, “LCD Soundsystem”

    A lot of the episodes on this list are dark avenues of normally upbeat shows. You’re The Worst did that for the whole second season, as it gives us an in-depth look into Gretchen’s clinical depression. 

    Gretchen thinks she’s found a model for happiness in another couple: Lexi and Rob. They have well-paying jobs. A kid. A dog. They live the life Gretchen’s been fighting against the entire show. It occurs to her that maybe she can find a way out of her hole if she were to just give in and be “normal.”  She spends time following them and emulating their life. After doing something a bit… quirky, she finally gets to meet them and spend some time in their home. It goes well for a little while, but she soon discovers that this couple are just as broken and fucked up as everybody else. 

    You can rebel against “normalcy” as you get older all you like, but in the end, there's no such thing as “normal.” There’s only the life you live and how it affects you. Gretchen hasn’t found any happiness in living against a “normal” life, so she tries to see what the other side of the fence is like. Turns out, the people who live there are just as unhappy and doubtful as she is. It’s a crushing realization for her, as we see in the heartbreaking final shot. 

    I’m not quite Gretchen’s age yet, but I’ll be there soon enough. This episode scares the shit out of me.