1975, will you ever win?

I've been watching a lotta Double Dare reruns lately - early episodes from 1986/1987 mostly. If you're not familiar with it (or just plain forgot) the show was famous for making kids do stupid tricks that usually involved getting messy with stuff like whipped cream and raw eggs, but the bulk of the show was actually long stretches of trivia questions in all different areas of knowledge. Frankly I found the series kinda tedious when I was a kid and mostly ever only experienced it as background noise, but as an adult I find it a bit more engrossing - especially the Q&A parts. In the area of Pop Culture there are obviously a lotta questions about Duran Duran and Family Ties and Gremlins, but equally there are just as many questions about The Beatles and Gilligan's Island and The Three Stooges. And these 10-year-old contestants usually nailed it -- because of course they would, I would've too. The point I'm making here is that, as kids, the environment we absorb doesn't consist solely of the latest trends, but also the sorta-recent stuff - because of our parents or older siblings, because of TV and radio, because of the fads and fashions of everything from your haircut to your couch that's predicated upon everything that was so 5 minutes ago. 1975 unfolded eight years before I was born, yet somehow I still manage to carry enough nostalgia for it to commemorate its 50th anniversary with some authority. (And I ain't jive talkin'.)

 

I'm not sure by what means the generations before and after my own kept in touch with the past, but for me it was a steady diet of Nick at Nite and TIME LIFE Music Infomercials. It's one thing to rent old movies or walk barefoot across your grandmother's shag carpeting, but for me a decade of the 20th Century is best and most easily experienced through its music and its television. When I was 10 years old my favorite shows were All in the Family and M*A*S*H and nothing felt particularly antiquated about them; sure the film stock and videotape looked different from modern sitcoms but even that always carried a comforting familiarity for me - like some kinda past-life experience intruding on present time. But all Shining powers aside, I grew up in an era when the dial was drowning in syndicated TV, so while shows like Roseanne and Seinfeld were on once a week, Bob Newhart and Mary Tyler Moore were there every day (sometimes more). Stuff like politics and economics were far less important to me as a kid than what was on the tube, and the tube told me that these happy days are yours and mine. 

The first band I truly became a fan of was Queen, and by "fan" I mean albums/posters/t-shirts kinda fan, so that definitely put me in a place before my time. But in the years leading up to that, my environment was saturated in the sounds of Barry Manilow and Barbra Streisand and B. J. Thomas (amongst others) and certainly nothing ever seemed dated to the point of alien or exotic - I'm sure a lot of it wasn't exactly "hip" but that was all well before an age when that really would've mattered to me. So by the time I was a teenager lying in bed in the middle of the night watching commercials for music collections, I had legitimate nostalgia for the songs they were selling. This was before I had a credit card or checkbook in my name, so in lieu of any 1 a.m. impulse purchases I finally wore my mother down enough to place an order for TIME LIFE's AM Gold: year-by-year compilation albums that cover the entirety of the 1960s and 1970s. As requested, I received 1974, 1975, and 1976 on cassette tape and I familiarized myself with those mellow Top 40 hits to the point that I can't hear "Sister Golden Hair" or "I'm Not in Love" now without feeling like a teenager again. 

 

Rest assured I don't plan on celebrating 1975 by telling you what growing up in the 1990s was like, but instead just reinforcing the idea that you too can play this game at home. We don't need stuff like reboots and remakes to put us in the mind of the past; all the artifacts are there at our fingertips: entire channels that play nothing but The Jeffersons, streaming radio stations and playlists dedicated to ridiculously specific eras featuring hits by the original artists, and with enough grit and gumption you could probably track down some of the movies too -- and you should, because as you probably already know, '75 was a stone cold groove. 

 

I can definitely say that, within the brackets of my own personal favorites, this is one of the most eclectic years in Cinema. And I don't just mean that each movie on my list is different from one another, but that most of them are unique to all movies ever - particularly up to that point in time. Of course there are some that are entirely indicative of 1975 and those are just as valuable, but we were blessed with a lotta groundbreakers and hellraisers that either inspired generations of stories and ideas and changes to the craft, of they continue to stand alone as singular masterpieces that can't ever be duplicated. Sure, that reads dramatically on paper, but if this year is famous for nothing else (Watergate? Vietnam? eh) it produced the most impressive lineup for the eventual Best Picture category at the 48th Academy Awards - the five films nominated are, in fact, my five favorite movies of that year, and never before or since has that been the case. Like any other year there were hidden gems and sleeper hits and cult favorites, but this was clearly a brief moment when movie makers and movie goers and movie critics all seemed to be mostly in sync - probably because much of it was simply and inarguably good. Now imagine the entirety of The Film Community and how it is today: imagine not only having just one culture-changing movie in theaters (or streaming or wherever) but one that we all agree is a legitimate triumph to the art form. Is it at all possible that better movies bring us together while bad and mediocre movies create division? 1975 wasn't exactly peace time on the planet but we all sure hated that shark for eating the Kintner boy. Point being, yeah it'd be nice and fun and entertaining to have really good new movies again, but for the good of society (and maybe even our souls) we may just need them. 

- Paul

1. Dog Day Afternoon

You know I like to leave objectivity out of art, but I've only ever been able to describe this movie as flawless. It's a minimalist "plot" with a million speaking parts in a single location, and yet it's endlessly unfolding at a rapid pace. Obviously if I put it on I'm gonna watch it, but whenever I come across it by accident, everything else I'm doing in that moment has to wait - it's a tired line, but it grabs you and doesn't let go. It's my favorite Pacino movie, my favorite Lumet movie, and my favorite movie of the 1970s. 

2. Nashville

We're all familiar with the concept of the "hangout movie" and this certainly is one, but more than that it creates an entire world - just a whole setting and scenario and dynamic that I love being a part of (from a safe distance). It's fortuitous that it's largely a musical because I can take the soundtrack with me anywhere and it sends me there every time. 

3. Jaws

The first half with the town bumpkins and the insufferable mayor is still clumsy and tiring to me, but that will always be overshadowed by the endlessly engrossing second half; the dynamic between the three guys practically encapsulates the concept of "entertainment", but it's also proof of Spielberg's boundless talents to create Epic Cinema - even with just a rubber shark and a not-quite-big-enough boat. 

4. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

In a decade built on a foundation of antiauthoritarianism, this movie is The Anthem. There are even several films on this list that deal with the same themes, but it's only this one that stirs up real Rocky-esque support for its protagonists to the point that you wanna jump into the movie and help them defeat the villain. 

5. Barry Lyndon

Kubrick said he had no intentions of ever publishing this shooting script to be sold in stores because it had no literary value. More than The Shining or even 2001 this is perhaps his moodiest movie, thereby making it the most Kubrickian; truly the best (and maybe the only) example of painting, photography, settings, and music all combined to create a unique genre of motion picture. 

6. Monty Python and the Holy Grail

So few TV shows can gracefully transition to Film - especially sketch comedy. But because this group took every costume and location so seriously, it created an environment grounded in reality where everyone and everything can be its silliest. 

7. The Man Who Would Be King

The joy of watching a Connery/Caine collaboration could've easily been enough, but even without monumental acting talent, this Action Adventure fable pans out into so many surprise directions that even if you kinda know what it's about it's still gonna surprise you. 

8. Love and Death

While it may be a parody of bleak Russian literature, it tackles all the existential crises that have obviously plagued Woody to this day; clearly they're sensitive subjects because the setups and punchlines are more relentless than in any of his other movies. 

9. Deep Red

He'd already directed several movies, but this feels like the first true and uncompromised Argento film. And even though he's clearly still honing his skills here, the movie has a greater sense of style and suspense than most other films in this or any genre. 

10. Three Days of the Condor

I hated this movie when I was little because I couldn't understand anything that was going on. As an adult it's worked its way into my Christmas Movie rotation -- I still don't know what's going on, but it sure is exciting; everyone's acting their hearts out and that Dave Grusin score swings. 

11. Supervixens

Here was a director who was very much at the top of his game; there've been extremely few other filmmakers who've had as much of a unique understanding of composition and editing as Russ Meyer did and this movie is as good an example as just about most of his others. Special acknowledgement to Charles Napier for being absolutely bonkers in this.

12. Strip Nude For Your Killer

Gialli can be pretty repetitive and stale when they don't know how to fill out the plot. Fortunately in this one the plot is mostly nude models in groovy Italian digs. They understood the assignment - it's what every Giallo should be. It's what every movie should be, really. 

13. Race With the Devil

Cult situations scare me - especially when they cast a wide enough net that you don't know who to trust. Mix that with some car chase stuff and you've got one genre-bending thrill ride that stresses the lesson that so many movies have taught us: don't ever witness a crime. 

14. Black Moon

A feature length metaphor for... something. It's a dystopia, it's a paradise, it's a nightmare, it's a fantasy. Plenty of scholars have tried to decipher it but even director Louis Malle admitted it's all rooted in abstraction, and I'm most comfortable at that speed. 

15. Night Moves

The 1970s was the last decade for cool detectives, and few are cooler than Hackman (which is also a general statement). And like a lotta detective stories the journey is more rich than the destination - which says a lot considering the grandeur of the climax. 

16. White Line Fever

One genre that nearly stands alone in this decade is the Trucker Movie, and in this moment I'm inclined to say that this is the best one; heavy antiestablishment/anti corporate America storyline that angers up the blood and an ending that nearly brings me to tears. The whole movie also really makes me want a beer. 

17. Mirror

Some films are hailed as being "ahead of its time", though I still don't think we've reached that moment in time where this movie would be considered passé. Gloomy, jumbled, measured; it never pretends to be much more than the meandering poem that it is and gets away with it by presenting some of the most haunting images ever filmed. 

18. The Prisoner of Second Avenue

Simon & Lemmon was a formula for magic -- and clearly Anne Bancroft knew how to sing the song just as well. There's very much an old fashioned innocence in everything about it but that also guarantees one of the least obscure depictions of raging against the machine; there's no metaphor for an unjust system, it's literally their environment. 

19. Sheba, Baby

As an Action Star, Pam Grier played a lotta characters that seemed indestructible (which could often thwart any suspense). Sheba is a much more vulnerable heroine which allowed Pam a wider range of humanity decades before Jackie Brown. 

20. Hard Times

The Depression Era was as far away from the 1970s as the 1980s are from us today, so I suppose that's why there were so many movies about it. Anyways, Walter Hill, Charles Bronson, James Coburn, bare-knuckled boxing. It speaks for itself. 

STATIC SHOTS

Faces of Yuck

I wanted to compile a proper list of favorite Gross Movies or Gross Scenes or whatever my typical bullshit may be but I found the idea to be annoyingly immeasurable - repulsiveness appears to be more abstract than "what's funny" or "what's scary" and probably even more personal. I thought of all the goriest moments of the most violent movies. I thought of all the puke and shit and semen of 90s Comedies. I thought back to my youth and tried to remember the images that made me uneasy. I tried to think about the traditional choices and all the movies that make the lists of "Most Shocking" and "Most Disturbing". I thought about Joe Bob's Vomit Meter. The real question was, would this be a serious inventory or just for fun; in other words, there's at least fifty shades of foul and the stuff that has me laughing and clapping shouldn't share a list with the stuff that has me gasping and puking (or crying and seething). And in trying to find appropriate programming to watch this year, navigating this spectrum has proven to be most difficult. 

Ever since God said to Abraham, "Sacrifice your son for me. But first, pull my finger", there's been Gross-out Humor. It seemed to really take the film industry by storm in the late 90s and early 00s, and even though I was a teenager at the time, the subgenre didn't really capture my imagination; I felt like a prude but I never found them funny enough - perhaps because I never found them gross enough. 1998's Happiness and most of Todd Solondz's movies hit the mark for me in terms of achieving both Gross and Comedy in a much less juvenile way than the Farrellys or the Wayanses, and with much more filmmaking prowess than John Waters. I'd go as far to say that his particular formula of irony and satire is unique to any other storyteller I've ever been aware of; his ability to make lite of dark subject matter is even that much more magnified when he presents it seriously. And it's that serious darkness that makes a difference. 

The grossest stuff is usually the psychological stuff; the sprays and projectiles and overall dampness is good for a giggle and a gasp but it's the stuff that stays with me and ultimately depresses me that I find most disgusting. But they don't call that "disgusting" they call it "disturbing" because, clearly, the grossness comes in columns. This is the stuff that's the least fun to watch, and particularly rewatch; sexual assault, animal stuff, kid stuff, nonfiction horrors - they all leave a completely different taste than something like Re-Animator or Scanners. For my own fancy, if you can make it as fun or exciting or interesting as one of those Horror or Science Fiction extravaganzas then I'm more likely to hold it in higher regard and come back again. Last House on the Left sucks so I'm not worried about it. I Spit On Your Grave is clumsily confrontational even for a revenge flick. Irreversible is too grim. Man Bites Dog is too dumb. The quantifier is "fun" I think, and fun is just as relatable as "gross". Clockwork Orange is fun. Devil's Rejects, Deliverance, Cape Fear, all fun and interesting and exciting to me. I've still completely kept my distance from Come and See but my impartial observation has me curious as to whether or not I'd watch it as often and as casually as Schindler's List -- though that just may be the magic (or misjudgment) of Spielberg. 

Violence is the big one I think - more than slime or barf or fantastical body horror; "gore" is typically what most people think of when they think of gross. But with violence it's a lot easier (and more socially acceptable) to differentiate between "fun" and "serious". The earliest (and most extreme) example of my own is watching The Black Knight scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail when I was like 3 years old and even then being initially shocked at how blatantly vulgar it was and then sort of being helped along to realize the comedy of it. Like I said that's an extreme example because that's a legit straightforward Comedy, but it's the movies that rest on Violence and find ways to be cute with it that are, for every single intent and purpose, the "fun" ones (critics could not grasp this during the Slasher boom). Only until recently it seemed like Quentin's entire career was just a series of him "answering for" whatever new plague he'd unleashed on social mores - and that's only because he was making Crime movies as opposed to those ridiculous Horror flicks. Though I've always said that Casino is the most violent movie I've seen, because while it's not Dead Alive or Hellraiser it stabs that much deeper since it's presented (and rooted) in reality. Even all the torture porn stuff barely slides by because, no matter how realistic it comes across, they can't escape that stigma of camp; the literal tagline for The Human Centipede is: "100% Medically Accurate", as if to say "please, this would be so much more effective if you ignore how ridiculous it is". But that's the irony: the New French Extremity movement and the J-Horror stuff take themselves so seriously that they left out the goddamn fun. But are they gross?

Actually, I'd argue that real grossness maintains an air of burlesque and that maybe nothing can be truly serious when you got heads rollin' around. When I was little the throw up in The Exorcist was one of its most traumatizing tricks - when I look at it now it feels a bit like the punchline in an otherwise humorless atmosphere. But it's definitely gross. All puking is gross, and it was particularly startling as a child because of how traumatic it was whenever it happened to me in real life; I was too terrified to get through Stand By Me because of the barf-o-rama sequence - I was phobic of vomit stuff. My mother thought the grossest part of The Exorcist was the electroencephalography scene where they stab Regan in the neck and take pictures of her brain. Apart from the weird food and heart extractions I can't stand Temple of Doom in part because of the room full of bugs. My father doesn't like Raiders because of the snakes. There are literally still folks who won't watch Brokeback Mountain. Point is, people's phobias, however irrational, can determine their level of loathsomeness in fiction - not because they're scary, but because "ew". 

There are a hundred other avenues for means and moods of repulsion and I've certainly overthought them all - a lotta Comic Book movies make me woozy, but even the most nuanced list should maintain some comprehensive motif; leaving out bad CGI, misguided politics, weak humor, and all the other stuff that makes us sick, and focusing entirely on the intentionally gross entertainment. We like gross, but how far can you take it and still have a good time? Confronting this idea as I am right now, it helped me to realize that I've always found that perfect balance in the Italian Horror Cinema of the 1970s and 1980s. 

One could argue that's a genre all unto itself and one I love for many reasons, and one of the reasons is their confrontational violence. Therein lies the argument that was being made during that specific era of Horror: while these were never played as straight Comedy, the gore was so aggressively graphic that it would've been foolish to take it seriously. And it's the stability of that mix that fills me with the giddiness that's sought after when we purposefully subject ourselves to the ick. So following that formula and sidestepping the phony yardstick of "Most Disgusting" I can say that my favorite Gross-out Flick is 1980's City of the Living Dead. 

"Shock Value" is only a dirty phrase when it's accompanied by laziness. Of the many reasons Lucio Fulci's inaugural entry in his "Gates of Hell" Trilogy (followed by The Beyond and House by the Cemetery, both in 1981) is one of my favorite movies of all time, one that's high on the list is its inventiveness in its filth. The movie is an unbroken parade of set pieces and while much of it is a showcase of ungodly violence, there's also a lotta muck and bugs and generalized goo - proving that you can maintain an old-fashioned spooky atmosphere in the face of blood & guts. Another thing about these older splatter movies is the practical effects wizardry and how its excellence (and sometimes incompetence) is just enough of a distraction to save the subject matter from becoming legitimately distressing - as if to remind you "it's only a movie..." It truly takes some kinda talent to find a way to repel while simultaneously attract; I find most attempts to be either too weak or too heavy-handed for me to revisit. The blend in City of the Living Dead is just the right amount of goofy and grotesque for me to wince just as much during the 100th viewing as I did the first. 

- Paul

Props of Desire

Hey nerd, you like laser swords? How about the ghost-catching stuff? Wizard wands? Ruby slippers? Flux capacitors? Rosebud?

There are straight up recognizable treasures, and then there are these: objects of lust that only exist as a function to their respective worlds, reminding us that we don't actually live inside a movie, and keep us asking, "Where do they get those wonderful toys?" 

Some have magic powers, some just have aesthetic appeal, all have rent-free real estate in my heart.

- Paul

The Tin Man's heart

The Wizard of Oz

I know it's just a symbolic ornament, but the reds in this movie are just beyond mesmerizing. So even before the slippers or the apples or the Witch's hourglass, this sparkling timepiece is judged by how much I love it. 

Silver spheres

Starman

I never knew what to call these. "Magic balls?" It was fine that they could manipulate the elements of his immediate surroundings, but their size and shape and dull bluish-grey metallic sheen was the only reason I needed them. And they glowed!

Joker's pistol

Batman

A solid black revolver with a long barrel was the most attractive of movie weaponry to me. So imagine my shock & awe when the Clown Prince of Crime pulled this monster out of his pants...

Toy space capsule

The Right Stuff

The Mercury Space Capsule was and is one of my favorite manmade things in terms of function and design - this gothic Giger-esque tomb looks more like it came from outer space, not the other way around. But in the film, Gus & Gordo are playing with these tiny-but-heavy duty toy versions that are exquisitely accurate. Reasonably (and practically) I just want those. 

Abraham Lincoln, Pancake Maker

Pee-wee's Big Adventure

Pee-wee's playhouse has plenty of alluring psychedelic oddities, but his private residence is where it's at. There are too many collectibles and decorations and pieces of art to absorb even in the first few shots we're given (the breakfast machine alone is brimming with riches) but the life-size Abe flapjack flipper is more than enough for me. 

Pocketknife

To Kill A Mockingbird

When I was little I couldn't really tell what it was - just a solid jumble of black & grey, but I loved the sound it made when Jem digs it out of the box. Even still, now that I know what it is, it's my favorite of Boo's treasures.  

Schwartz ring

Spaceballs

Not a mega fan of this movie, but like its source material, it's full of SciFi gadgetry and fantasy lore - working together in this sparkly ring. The fact that it's later revealed that it came out of a Crackerjack box made me want it more.

Thermal detonator

Return of the Jedi

Lightsabers or a good blaster are fine and they had their moment, but I was always so curious about the shiny hand grenade with the lights & buttons & moving parts. It just looked like a cool toy - it was a bonus that it was an explosive. 

Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch

Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Look, I just like grenades - it's the 4-year-old in me - but this blessed bomb is so beautiful that it doesn't even matter that it becomes a deadly weapon at the count of three...

Control lever

The Time Machine

Ok, so I want the whole goddamn contraption, but I'm tryna stay humble & realistic. After all, this crystal-handled wand is basically the car keys to the whole machine, so it's got relevance too. 

The box

Mulholland Drive

Really it needs to come with the key to make it a complete set. I love little ornate boxes -- even if they're filled with existential dread and waking nightmares, I'm sure there's still plenty of room for a few buffalo nickels and old movie stubs. 

Penthouse

Stripes

It's the movie that sparked my love of grenades! But they pale in comparison here; so many movies are filled with all kindsa fake literature -- but I'll take a P.J. Soles Penthouse over a Paul Sheldon novel any day.

Fingertrap

The Addams Family

There's a lotta beautiful treasure in this otherwise dark, gothic saga, but this jewel-encrusted party favor is the most attractive thing in the movie (after Dan Hedaya). This shoulda been part of Hot Topic's inventory for the past 30 years. 

Dancing Jesuses

A Clockwork Orange

If I'd had a desired aesthetic when I was 13, it could've been "Ironic Religious Iconography." Even still I love how aggressively tasteless it is, and I'd be honored to have such an elegant monument to Stanley's sense of humor. 

Microchips

Innerspace

I didn't know what microchips were when I was 5 - I still kinda don't know. Kinda don't care either - I did deduce that they were cute little candy-colored buttons that had the magic to miniaturize Dennis Quaid. Other than that I just wanted these little geometric science playthings. 

The Orb

Sleeper

When I was little I didn't understand that it was supposed to be some sorta recreational drug reference - I just liked the big shiny sphere that brought on expert physical comedy. 

Everybody's Wonderin' : Where The Leftovers Stands in The Greatest TV Shows Of All Time. Also, My Favorite TV Shows Of All Time

Nothing goes away anymore. Everything's adapted, readapted, sequelized, remade, rebooted, reheated. There are no more one-hit-wonders. Everything is kept alive with dance and song contests, Twitter, and Us Weekly. We're no longer given the chance to miss anything. So, when something we love is taken from us as quickly as it arrived, it's traumatizing.
It's probably safe to say that the old showbiz gospel of "leaving them wanting more" is exactly that: old.
On June 4th of 2017, The Leftovers ended its 3 season, 28 episode run. That's how web banners and newspaper blurbs eulogize what is now nothing more than a programming gap.
For those of us who experienced it, it leaves a lot more than a free Sunday night. I will miss it. I'll miss having new episodes to look forward to. But, because of what it was about, how it played out, and how it ended, the journey will continue. This is something a lot of contemporary fiction tries to achieve, and in my opinion, fails. But not with this one. Rarely do marks get hit this precisely. The show lasted 3 seasons, not because of cancellation due to lack of interest or funding, but because the story exists in an almost uninhabited world that floats between cinema and television. If it had run any longer, it would run the risk of any number of follies that befell even the best TV shows -- most notably, wearing out its welcome.
I won't get too much into what the show was about, nor try to dissect all its meanings; we've never done that kinda stuff here. What is worth pointing out are the show's qualities that I personally responded to. Sure, it dealt with universal themes that spoke to everyone on a subjective level, but I can really only talk about my own experience: what I look for, what I hope for, what surprises me.
Whenever I've had to describe the show, I said it's a darker and dirtier Lost. Or, Lost was A Hard Day's Night and Leftovers was The White Album; a disconnected group of intense and hilarious ideas -- organized chaos. It had a sense of humor that endlessly surprised me, and some of the most brutal violence that I may never want to look at again. I enjoy satire and dark humor, but what The Leftovers deals in is pace changes, which takes more ingenuity and backbone than the former. And it does it well.
Laughs and chills aside, the show was about about some heavy-duty shit: loss, metaphysics, the afterlife, faith, apocalypse, purpose, and the frailty and dangerous ignorance of the human condition. And yes, this has all been explored in one place before. And no, not on Twin Peaks and not on The X-Files.

It can no longer be ignored that, while Lost belongs to J. J. Abrams and The Leftovers belongs to Tom Perrotta, Damon Lindelof is The Man behind the curtain in these and other weird crevices (Star Trek, Prometheus, World War Z). It's funny, but, his movie & comic book stuff aside, the work he's done has filled me with more joy and wonder about life and the universe than Mark Twain, Einstein and David Lynch put together. This is notable, because this is television we're talking about. And I don't really like TV (more on that in a second).
I won't unravel the show's clues and symbols - one, because that's usually a bunch of pretentious hearsay, but mostly, I truly enjoy the mysteries. Over the course of the series, there were so many wrong turns and false leads that I honestly can't remember them all. That's when Twin Peaks worked best (and sucked when it didn't). And Lost too, obviously. And this angered and frustrated people. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but this show was actually about those very people: consumed by questions with no expectation of answers - just signposts that lead back to you. Perhaps that's why viewers were generally more receptive and engrossed than they were with past shows. Either that, or maybe just the concept, as sci-fi as it is, was a little more easy to grasp; anyone who's ever been through any kinda shit in their life and wondered "What did that all mean?" could relate. Lost presented the idea that we all may be important. The Leftovers let us know that we're not. But more notable than that, in the end, both shows were about love and family. It's notable, because something that sappy takes a lotta balls, and to do it convincingly, it takes a lotta skill.

If all of this seems vague, that's good. While I'm not incredibly anxious to give a lot away, at the same time, I'd like to keep it fresh for myself. I'd love some distance from it before I look at it again. Like I said, every episode of every season made big promises - like wrapped gifts. And in the end, most of them stayed wrapped. While it was largely based on a book, every development, every revelation, every foreshadow seemed intentional, and I knew most promises would go unfulfilled. The continual complaint that swirled around Lost viewers was, "They're just making it up as they go along." My response to that always was, and is, "That is, by definition, fiction."

This is a supposed "Golden Age" of television right now, although that seems relative. The Leftovers, True Detective, and Better Call Saul were all better than most movies to come out of the past five years. At the same time, sitcoms, gameshows, network dramas and even the news are all dead. Reality TV was never hip, and cartoons are generationally subjective. For as long as it's been around, television has been as important as pop music, Playboy & popcorn. Radio, part 2. We can't know its lasting impact this soon, but I can say that, thus far, even more than film, it's been nothing more than recorded theatre; a showcase of writing and performance. With some of these new shows, it's been drifting into more complex areas and actually tackling more abstract stuff & sometimes even managing to be visually stunning. I assume these advances are due to things like the size of TV screens, video on demand, and the internet.
I don't know if it's better, but it's certainly different. It's progress, which, believe it or not, I welcome and appreciate (and a label I would not assign to movies or music right now). And it certainly makes for some crazy list-making. It may be the least abstract art form, but it has many different avenues. How do you compare Mayberry R.F.D. to The Sopranos? They hardly seem like the same animal, never mind the same medium.
There may or may not be spoilers ahead. I'm not sure - I'm making it up as I go along.

- Paul

(Disclaimer: Looney Tunes and The Three Stooges were technically shorts, not TV shows.)

50. Check It Out! with Dr. Steve Brule (2010-present)
Spinoffs can be one-note. But when they work, it's because it's the best note plucked out of the original symphony.
The world (and it is its own demented - yet familiar - world) of Dr. Steve Brule goes so far beyond standard comedy, it ventures into a surrealism that borders on sweaty nightmare.

49. DuckTales (1987-1990)
Apart from some of the Pixar movies, this is the only cool thing Disney has ever done.
The original character of Scrooge (and a lot of Dickensian stuff) has interested me since I was little.
That and a lifelong lust for cartoon gold and treasure.

48. Friends (1994-2004)
You gotta give credit where credit is due. It actually started strong and never really jumped the shark.
Unlike shows of this ilk being made today, it never got dark, and through writing and performance, the characters were actually likable. I do miss that.

47. The Critic (1994-1995)
Despite its very accomplished producers, writers, and voice talents, it's not nearly as good as you-know-what. But it is good. Top 50 good. If for nothing else, marvel at the comic chops of genre actor Charles Napier as the voice of Ted Turner-esque Duke Phillips.

46. Eastbound and Down (2009-2013)
Inferno. The Odyssey. The road to redemption is polluted with temptation and hellfire. Smarts and bravery could help. But really, you just need some self-absorbing arrogance and blind optimism.
It's funny in American politics, but it's actually rad when it's Kenny Motherfuckin' Powers.

45. Perfect Strangers (1986-1993)
A dangerous mixture of slapstick and pathos.
Sure, anyone can enjoy some corn syrup in an ironic way, but if your soul is pure, it's an intense free fall into an abyss of innocence and joy.
And that ain't irony.

44. Degrassi Junior High (1987-1989)
An idealistic and sometimes honest time capsule of a very specific time (the 1980s) and place (school).
Sure, that's the basic setup of a lot of fiction, but there can be only one class president.
It was an after school special that kept on specialin'.

43. The Adventures of Pete & Pete (1991-1996)
Perhaps a more accurate and realistic depiction of the journey of youth is the most surrealistic one.
Though sharper and deeper than the programming before and after, it certainly helped to set the tone for the world of Nickelodeon.

42. Inside the Actors Studio (1994-present)
Say what you may - depending on the guest, it was great fun for any movie lover. And whether he was kissing ass or making fun of himself, I've always liked James Lipton.
Plus, it had the second best Angelo Badalamenti TV theme.

41. Cheers (1982-1993)
Sexual tension, big punchlines, catchphrases, steady regulars and one-off guest stars. It was the last of its kind, which means it inspired nothing, but incorporated everything.
Never again would TV be as sweet and simple as a place where everybody knows your name.

40. Absolutely Fabulous (1992-1996, 2001-2004, 2011-2012)

Women behaving badly long, long before the likes of Amy Schumer and Melissa McCarthy.
You might be inclined to look deeper, but it may be nothing more than a high fashion, dry British Cheech & Chong. And that's just gorgeous, sweetie darling.

39. Batman: The Animated Series (1992-1995)
The strangest cartoon adaptation I've seen.
Inspired just as much by the movies as the comics (it used the Danny Elfman theme), it's actually more complex, serious, and deliberately paced than the films.
It works, and that's why Batman rocks: straight up cops & robbers, gangsters & vigilantes, freak vs. freaks.

38. Twin Peaks (1990, 1991, present)
The greatest moments ever put on television. Unfortunately, that's all they were: moments. I think we said it once here before: the idea of Twin Peaks was smarter and spookier than the television show Twin Peaks.
At the time I'm writing this, I've not seen the newest season, but from what I'm hearing (mostly from you guys) is that it seems to fall into line with my original original expectations.

37. M*A*S*H (1972-1983)
Here's an instance where the TV show is better than the movie.
The lineup changed as often as a sports team, but that never hurt it. In fact, it made for fun debate: Blake or Potter, Trapper or BJ, Frank or Winchester.
And then, just as the show started to get waaaay smug, it unleashed the finale of finales.

36. Baywatch (1989-1990, 1991-2001)
If you've never seen it, it's everything you thought it was, but a lot more. Hour-long melodramas featuring murderers, thieves, terrorists and sharks, padded out with bizarre music videos, all in bikinis and short shorts. Effective? Yes. Timeless? Goodness, no. It's something to behold.

35. Jackass (2000-2002)
It's easy to see how much money & talent is wasted on TV programming when you realize all you wanna see are skaters breaking their shit. The invention of television came to a head into its purest form with this singular show. Performance art (which is what this box is for). Reality shows were supposed to go this way, not into dating contests.

34. Tales From the Crypt (1989-1996)
Back then, no one knew what the limitations of HBO were, or how depraved our favorite Hollywood stars were. The Crypt showed us, and even still, nothing's topped it as the dirtiest and goriest program ever shown on... the TV scream!

33. Coach (1989-1997)
Very, very few shows ever dared to borrow elements from All in the Family and air long enough to tell about it.
It had a funny supporting cast, but the show's only real strength was playing on the old (but still potent) formula of the conservative ogre as a laughable, misguided oaf; still making fun of Father Knows Best as "Father Don't Know Shit."

32. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1987-1996)
Yeah, the original. Though I don't think there's a ton of support for any later versions from anyone over the age of 11.
So now, what then?
What can I say about the show that everyone pretty much agrees was the hottest pizza this side of Saturday morning? After all the comics and movies and toys, this is how they'll be remembered. It was funny enough and weird enough that as an adult I can still watch it and be completely immersed.

31. The Wonder Years (1988-1993)
It made me nostalgic for a time & place I've never been to. Of all the books I've read and movies I've seen, that's a trick that's damn-near impossible to pull off.
That's why it was so great - I was able to connect with it on as many levels as my father could.

30. Jeopardy! (1964-1975, 1978-1979, 1984-present)
Not just to have a gameshow on the list, but if it is the only one, it might as well be the best.
Perfectly paced with no frills - forever the antidote to dreck like Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?

29. Mad About You (1992-1999)
A slightly more mature version of Friends - mostly because it deals with the minutia of marriage instead of single life (and it does it accurately).
If you came to love this couple the way many of us did, do yourself a favor & skip the last two seasons.

28. Better Call Saul (2015-present)
Who woulda thought? The supporting comic relief in one of the most intense TV shows ever made would spin off into something that was actually deeper than, more subtle than, but just as engrossing as its predecessor (and most other shows).
Great performances.

27. Punky Brewster (1984-1988)
With its candy-colored title card over a shot of brown, 1980s Chicago mixed with its AM disco theme song, the entire tone of the show (and maybe an entire orthodoxy unto itself) was established: pop 'n lock rainbow optimism in the face of foster homes, social workers and a distrust of familial stability.
Heavy stuff for a kid's show, but there's that Dickens quality again. I joke that each episode feels like a Christmas special.

26. Miami Vice (1984-1989)
Style over substance doesn't always work - especially on TV (CSI, 24). So when it does, it'd better be one badass style. And none do badass style like Michael Mann.
Like Twin Peaks, it never really lived up to its fullest potential in my eyes. But also like Twin Peaks, the mood lives on and contemporizes itself into great things (like, in the case of both shows, feature films).

25. Get Smart (1965-1970)
Sight gags and one-liners poke fun at the once and future self-serious spy genre - courtesy of creators Mel Brooks and Buck Henry.
It's a brand of satire that's all but gone now, at a time when it could really thrive (I think we're getting laughably dark with all these superheroes).

24. Beakman's World (1992-1998)
Nothing against Bill Nye as a man or scientist, but his show was shit.
Beakman had a frenetic excitement that was engaging without being obnoxious, and funny in a lot of adult and profound ways. And the stuff they taught, I still remember.

23. Roseanne (1988-1997)
After years of Growing Pains and Family Ties, they finally made a show that made me think, "hey, this is more like my family." Of course, that was always shamelessly their intention, and sometimes tried too hard.
But still, for those first few years it was my favorite show as it aired. And if not for those last two seasons, it would be higher on the list.

22. Columbo (1968-1978, 1989-1998, 2002-2003)
Lotta cop shows around that time, full of car chases and shoot-outs... I guess that never really went out of fashion. But there hasn't been much quite like this, and never another character like Lieutenant Columbo.
The endless parade of guest villains (Patrick McGoohan, John Cassavetes, Donald Pleasence, Patrick McGoohan, Patrick McGoohan) were always ready for confrontation, while Columbo remained laid back, affable, and intentionally aloof. I could always relate.

21. MXC (2003-2007)
I'm a simple man in many ways.
Regardless of that, any idea this transparent could've been dumb - or dumber: footage of Japanese gameshow Takeshi's Castle - already funny on its own - dubbed with English-language faux sports commentary full of stilted banter and bad puns, all boiling down to the fact that a lot can be said about sharp comedy writing.
That & people falling down.

20. Boy Meets World (1993-2000)
Speaking of great comedy writing.
I never saw an episode till I was about 30, but that didn't stop me from learning a thing or two from Mr. Feeny or falling in love with Topanga.
I suppose that's a testament to the show's ability to reach all ages and generations.

19. Frasier (1993-2004)
It may not've been the most innovative or poignant show ever put out, but I like it. I like it more than Cheers. And the idea of making fun of pretentious fops will always be appealing to me.
Like a lot of shows on this list, a few seasons too many.

18. Saved By The Bell (1989-1993)
Has anyone really ever been able to put their finger on the secret ingredient of this soda? It was meta. It was hyperrealism. Beautiful people with superficial, distant problems.
It was fantasy, & we all pretended it was reality. Any piece of art that can fool us like that is magic.

17. Are You Afraid Of The Dark? (1990-1996, 1999-2000)
Rod Serling-type chills aimed at little kids, with just the right amount of spooky and funny.
Such a good idea.
A few imitations around that time, but nothing really like it since then. In fact, after two decades, the only thing that followed that same recipe is Stranger Things.

16. Tim & Eric Awesome Show, Great Job! (2007-2010)
A psychedelic collage of color, sound and movement. An existential head trip into subconscious terrors. Barf and poop jokes. It's everything and nothing.
Fill in the blank: it's ________ on acid, on steroids, on Robitussin, on toast.
Thanks, Cinco!

15. Unwrapped (2001-2011)
Combining a food program with a how-it's-made program is my kinda program. That, combined with Marc Summers's sunny disposition made the whole show feel like a warm brownie.
Nothing deeper than that.

14. True Detective (2014-2015)
Season one is one of the greatest pieces of fiction ever produced. Season two couldn't live up to that & tried too hard to do so. But I like it enough.
I like the new age concept of anthology series, and varying quality just acts as an added differentiating factor from season to season. Except, it's more effective if there were more seasons to differentiate.
Rumors of a third still pop up. I'm rooting for it in a big way.

13. The Ren & Stimpy Show (1991-1995)
A huge step (and maybe the last) in what cartoons and children's programming in general is capable of.
Somehow, SpongeBob became the popular one, which couldn't have existed without this mad splat of sex and gore that also managed to be sweet and charming. And funny as all hell.

12. Mr. Show with Bob and David (1995-1998)
Most people had a book or album that got them through high school. My book or album was Mr. Show. It was my own private cult, because no one else was hip to it. The benefit of that was that I could peel off lines like they were my own & no one was the wiser.
It's a shame it never caught on, though I'm glad its stars and creators have consistently been around, in one capacity or another, ever since.

11. Married... With Children (1987-1997)
Kinda mean-spirited and one-dimensional, but definitely not lowbrow.
It was live action Looney Tunes, and the first half of the series featured comedy writing worthy of Norman Lear.
It's funny that some people - men mostly - mistook it as gospel rather than satire; it gave it a bad name, but that doesn't intrude on this list.
Jumped the shark with the introduction of "NO MA'AM."

10. The Leftovers (2014-2017)
What more can I say?
Who knows if it'll move up or down over time. I will say, unlike nearly all these other shows, it never had & never will have the chance at a bad season. That will forever be one of its strengths; I may change, but it won't.

9. Curb Your Enthusiasm (2000-2011, present)
Speaking of darker and dirtier versions of older shows...
You never know - someday, it may top Seinfeld for me: it's somehow simultaneously broader & more specific, meaner & more forgiving, realistic & more absurd, funnier & more serious.
But even without another show to compare it to, it's still pretty, pretty, pretty good.

8. Breaking Bad (2008-2013)
The only show I truly "binge watched" from beginning to end. And how could you not? Put simply, once it starts, it doesn't stop, until it does.
With all its amazing characters and locations and plot twists, its most amazing feat to me was that it was the only piece of pulp fiction I've ever seen that didn't glamorize the crime life. As cool as Walter Heisenberg White was, it was stressful enough watching it. Couldn't imagine wanting to live it.

7. Monty Python's Flying Circus (1969-1974)
Sketch comedy: originated, personified, still unmatched.
Each episode was like a compilation album of unrelated songs that still somehow managed to bleed into each other. Even when sketches ran too long, it was still absurd and unpredictable.
It was, itself, The Ministry of All Things Silly.

6. The Dick Van Dyke Show (1961-1966)
Of all the idealistic nuclear family sitcoms that were born (& died) of the 20th century, this is number one on that list.
To be very specific, there are things that are funny for their time, and there are timelessly funny things. Dick Van Dyke is the latter.

5. All in the Family (1971-1979)
There's idealistic, then there's realistic - kinda.
They were stereotypes in a show about stereotypes. As frustrating as it was hilarious.
And speaking of timeless: every big issue they dealt with is, tragically and completely, 100% relevant today. That's why it's worth watching, and rewatching, right now: everything is best combatted by laughing about it, and at it.

4. Mystery Science Theater 3000 (1988-1999, present)
The entire concept was a thing of beauty, and it was in the hands of talented experts. And for the most part, it still is.
It's tough to describe it to someone who's never seen or heard of it (I've tried, and it's hilariously exhausting). Even when I discovered it, when MTV inexplicably aired an episode back in '93, it took me some time to figure out what the hell I was looking at.
Once you get it, you're either into it or not. I'm still hooked - new episodes and all.

3. Seinfeld (1989-1998)
I recently rewatched the entire series, from beginning to end. Twice.
I always knew it was uneven in quality. Watching it chronologically magnifies that fact, and at the same time, unifies it as one complete comedic, nihilistic journey. Each season recruited (and fired) its writing staff, which created less of an evolution, and more of a counterclockwise swirl; it began nowhere and ended nowhere, and was, at its core, about nothing.

2. Lost (2004-2010)
The only thing better than a show about nothing is a show about everything.
Like Seinfeld, it never ran out of steam (though seasons 1, 3, and 5 were weakest) and disappointed viewers with its finale. And in the case of both shows, and what people didn't make an effort to try to understand, is that when you're dealing with issues that are bigger than us, or too small to notice, that there is no end.
Personally, I've never been so quick to renounce an entire journey because I wasn't satisfied with the end (in fiction or in life).
All monsters, time travel, faith and science aside, if nothing more, this show introduced me to some of the most impressive acting talents I've ever seen -- specifically Michael Emerson and Terry O'Quinn.

1. The Simpsons (1989-present)
There is no moment in my life that can't be reflected by a line or a scene or an entire episode.
And speaking of radically uneven quality: it's been around long enough that, statistically, it doesn't matter. When it was good (seasons 3-15) it was really, really good. Van Johnson-good! They can make new episodes till the end of time, but it can't hurt that legacy.
Satire only works when it's subtle (which is why I don't like a handful of those other animated shows) and when it was hot, it nailed it. But it was also sight gags, slapstick, one liners, political humor, religious humor, highbrow, lowbrow, and anything else you can think of.
But most importantly, during that period (and before it) it really stayed sweet and innocent. That's maybe its greatest accomplishment: satire without cynicism. I'm hard-pressed to think of any other fiction in any other medium that has dared to even try that. It's the best.
But you know the pattern: just stay away from those later seasons.