The Best TV Shows Of 2022, Ranked

2022 has been an extraordinary year for television. The pandemic forced many shows down to shorter schedules or Zoom-based episodes in 2020, which had lasting effects well into 2021, but this year feels almost like a roaring television comeback. There were so many great shows this year that I genuinely had a difficult time narrowing the list down to just 20 entries. We have been blessed with a wealth of excellent entertainment from regular networks, cable, and streaming, and now it's time to celebrate (and rank) the best of the best. 

This has been an especially great year for genre TV, with an abundance of extraordinary new science fiction, fantasy, and horror shows, plus terrific new seasons from returning favorites like "What We Do in the Shadows" and "The Boys." There were so many good shows that I had to leave out some greats, like "Star Trek: Lower Decks," "Mythic Quest," and "The White Lotus." Genre fans might find themselves with too much to watch and not enough time, but that's almost a good problem to have, right? (And hey — this could help you narrow down what to watch first!)

Without further ado, here are the top 20 television series of 2022, ranked and ready to rock.

Streaming sitcoms are a pretty new thing, as the format lends itself to serialized network TV better than streaming, where shows have to be binge-able in addition to entertaining from episode to episode. One thing that these streaming sitcoms have on their network cousins, however, is the ability to satirize and deconstruct the network structure like never before. Hulu's "Reboot" is a sitcom about a sitcom, following the stars of '90s sitcom returning for an updated, meta-comedy reboot of their show. The cast is perfect: Keegan-Michael Key is a classically trained actor who left the show to pursue a movie career that never happened; Judy Greer is his former co-star and girlfriend, who went off to star in a goofy sci-fi series and married into royalty; Johnny Knoxville is the comic relief who's coming off of a struggling stand-up career and years of drug and alcohol abuse. Add in Paul Reiser as the original showrunner and Rachel Bloom as his daughter and the new co-showrunner, and you've got comedy gold.

"Reboot" was created by "Modern Family" co-creator Steven Levitan, but it's significantly meaner and more adult than the long-running ABC series. It's a send-up of sitcoms and the people who make them that could only ever happen on streaming or a cable network like HBO, without network censors to worry about. It's crass and it's crude, but it's also hysterically funny, and the cast's incredible chemistry makes the whole thing a pure, raunchy joy. 

The faux-documentary series "What We Do in the Shadows" has been going strong for several seasons, but its fourth season was a total blast that continued to take its characters to newer, weirder situations. Nadja (Natasia Demetriou) is finally living (unliving?) her dream of owning a vampire nightclub, Nandor (Kayvan Novak) has been reunited with his favorite wife via a genie wish, and Lazlo (Matt Berry) is learning to be a parent to the unholy child spawn of Colin Robinson (Mark Proksch). Guillermo (Harvey Guillen) is still struggling with being a familiar, but the season sees him finally doing some things for himself. 

One standout episode from this season showed the vampires trying to renovate their crumbling home with the help of a pair of brothers who host a home renovation show, clearly spoofing "The Property Brothers." The brothers are played by comedians Randy and Jason Sklar, and they provide a perfect contrast to the absurdity of the vampires. "What We Do in the Shadows" has always been shot in fake-documentary style, but bringing in a different kind of documentary series to switch up the style was a lot of fun. There are many other kinds of reality television and documentaries out there, so hopefully, the series can play with them in future seasons. Just imagine a true crime show about the victims of the "Staten Island Stalker" or a "Behind the Music" on Nadja and Lazlo. Whatever they decide to do, I'll be tuning in. 

The animated "Harley Quinn" series started as something of a raunchy riff, taking on the Batman universe with irreverence and a baseball bat. Season 1 was a little shaky in places (including an anti-Semitic joke that went way too far), but it found its feet in the second season and became something truly brilliant in season 3. The series' main thrust has followed Harley (Kaley Cuoco) after she and the Joker (Alan Tudyk) finally call it quits for good, and she falls in love with her best friend, Poison Ivy (Lake Bell).

The season features an episode where Harley must go into Bruce Wayne's (Diedrich Bader) mind in order to help him overcome his trauma. The episode is frankly genius, showing Bruce as a child reliving the night his parents were murdered over and over again. In the end, Harley uses her skills as a therapist to help him work through the pain, and it gives Batman more depth than he's had in a while. The show also managed to make me care about the Joker for the first time in decades, as he becomes a suburban stepdad and wants to use his powers for... sorta good. He's a criminal clown mastermind who also wants universal healthcare! It's a trip.

Harley also goes through some serious character growth throughout the series, culminating in becoming a true hero for survivors of domestic abuse. She learns how to be her own person, without Joker (or even Ivy), and it's deeply cathartic given that she was originally created only to be a sidekick. "Harley Quinn" helps show the power and possibilities of animated storytelling, and I can't wait to see more. 

After the contentious final season of "Game of Thrones," many fans wondered if anyone would ever really want to return to Westeros. It turns out that as long as the storytelling stays salacious and there are dragons flying around, people will tune in to see tawdry tales of war, power grabs, and varying amounts of incest. The series follows the Targaryens during a bitter family feud that turns into a civil war. Princess Rhaenyra (Emma D'Arcy) was chosen by her father, King Viserys (Paddy Considine), to serve as his heir after the death of her mother and younger brother. He then goes on to marry his daughter's childhood best friend, Alicent Hightower (Olivia Cooke), and they have three children, including two sons. Since Westeros is a patriarchy, that doesn't fly for the smallfolk or some of the members of the court, and soon there is a battle for power between the two most important women in the king's life. 

The story takes place centuries before the events of "Game of Thrones," and fans who have paid close attention already know how it's all going to end, but that doesn't really matter because the character interactions are so darn good. The first season ended with the very beginning of the war that will be called the Dance of Dragons, as Alicent misinterpreted her husband's dying wishes and installed their son Aegon II on the throne, so season 2 is going to be a rip-roaring blast full of dragons, bitter rivalries, and so much more. 

Sometimes, fandom can be a beautiful thing. That's absolutely the case for "Our Flag Means Death," the HBO Max original series that debuted this year and almost immediately gained the most wholesome, devoted fanbase this side of Bryan Fuller's Fannibals. The series became huge through word of mouth, which was good because the folks at HBO Max didn't exactly advertise it. Fans made costumes, drew an incredible amount of art, and baked orange cakes around the world, creating a community that all just wanted to be a part of this gay little pirate series. 

"Our Flag Means Death" is a fictional story about the real pirates Blackbeard (Taika Waititi) and Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby), following them as they, well, fall in love! "Our Flag Means Death" is unabashedly queer, with same-sex romances being given real, loving attention. The show also features a non-binary character named Jim, played by a non-binary actor (Vico Ortiz), and their inclusion was huge for non-binary representation. The whole (wildly diverse) cast is great, honestly, and watching "Our Flag Means Death" is a lot like escaping our own miserable world to an idealized, extremely queer pirate ship. It's pure escapist fantasy for LGBTQ folks that is some of the purest joy you can experience just by watching TV. Season two is on the way, so fans should start working on their flag-sewing skills and sea shanties because we'll be back on the deck of the Revenge before you know it. 

There isn't anything else on TV quite like "The Rehearsal." Honestly, I don't think there's anything else quite like "The Rehearsal" in any medium, because writer, creator, and star Nathan Fielder's bizarre HBO series turned reality TV on its head in a deeply uncomfortable, thought-provoking way. His first series, "Nathan For You," operated under the premise that a fictionalized, heightened version of Fielder would try to help various (real) people with their problems, though often in the most ridiculous way possible. "The Rehearsal" takes his skewing of reality TV a step further by starting with the premise that Fielder will help people rehearse for big, scary events that they're anticipating. 

What starts out as a couple of bizarre experiments in rehearsing difficult moments turns into Fielder trying to rehearse his entire life, down to "raising" a series of child actors who change as his child "ages" in a short span of time. The series starts getting into the ethics of having child actors when one of the kids actually thinks that Fielder is his dad, and that's only the tip of the iceberg for this existential nightmare. Often "The Rehearsal" is wildly funny, milking its unusual situations and awkward moments for all that they're worth. 

Fielder's mind-boggling meta-comedy might be too much for some audiences, but for anyone willing to really examine social norms, storytelling, and human interactions while cringing out of their skin, "The Rehearsal" is a real work of art. 

The "Star Wars" television shows on Disney+ have been an interesting experiment, exploring corners of the "Star Wars" universe through new genre lenses, but "Andor" is something else entirely. "The Mandalorian" and "The Book of Boba Fett" both hew closer to the science fiction and western serials that inspired George Lucas to create "Star Wars" in the first place, while "Obi-Wan Kenobi" is another glimpse at a beloved character. They have their audiences, but they're chock full of fan-service and require an appreciation for "Star Wars." By contrast, "Andor" isn't just a good "Star Wars" show — it's a damn good television show. 

The series follows Cassian Andor (Diego Luna) in the years before the events of the film "Rogue One." "Rogue One" is also quite unlike its "Star Wars" brethren, as it's a story about a Rebel Alliance suicide mission that will eventually lead to the destruction of the first Death Star, and it's a downer. "Andor" is similarly serious, tackling tough topics like fighting fascism, the evils of prisons, and the ongoing traumatic struggles of refugees. Showrunner Tony Gilroy made the show in a way that it's a mature series for adults... that just so happens to occasionally have blaster fire. 

"Andor" is a perfect example of what the "Star Wars" expanded universe can be, if creatives are given the chance to make something off the beaten path. If you had told me five years ago that I would watch Stellan Skarsgård play a bureaucratic, cutthroat revolutionary helping to create the foundations of the Rebel Alliance, I might have laughed at you. Now? It seems like the most natural thing. "Andor" might not exactly be hopeful, but it gave me new hope for the future of the "Star Wars" franchise.

The Prime Video series "The Boys," based on the comic series by Garth Ennis and Darick Robertson, doesn't pull any punches. It's a superhero satire from "Supernatural" showrunner Eric Kripke that skewers not only superhero properties but superhero fan culture, corporate taskmasters, and American popular culture as a whole. The first two seasons hinted at the show's somewhat progressive morals, but some viewers didn't catch onto the fact that Homelander (Antony Starr) is not actually heroic until season 3. Some fans didn't appreciate being made fun of and spammed the streaming service with one-star reviews, but the rest of us appreciated seeing the worst parts of the great American experiment taken to task. 

Season 3 starts with a bang, literally, as a shrinking supe sneezes while inside of his lover and pops back to normal size, exploding his beloved into pieces. It only gets more ridiculous, raunchy, and raw from there, as the superhero-fighting Boys try to take out the sociopathic Homelander once and for all, no matter the cost. Butcher (Karl Urban) and Hughie (Jack Quaid) start using temporary Compound V to gain powers and even the playing field, plus they find the lost Vought hero Soldier Boy (Jensen Ackles), who might actually be worse than Homelander but could be the only one to stop him. It's the biggest, boldest season yet and manages to be the smartest satire on television. It's sharp, exciting, and still really, really funny, and I can't wait to see what happens in season 4. 

"Peacemaker" is honestly something of a miracle. When news broke that writer/director James Gunn was going to create a "The Suicide Squad" spin-off series for HBO Max, many fans were hesitant. Why would anyone want a series about the least likable character in the Suicide Squad, a closed-minded bully with a toilet helmet? What "Peacemaker" ended up being was a heartfelt lesson in radical empathy, following the fallen wannabe hero, played by John Cena, as he learns to reject toxic masculinity and learn to love himself. The series kicked off the year, debuting in January and quickly becoming the biggest television series in the world, with everyone and their mother trying to learn the incredible opening dance number.

There's so much to love about "Peacemaker," as the series manages to be deeply emotionally resonant while also being a filthy, violent joyride, with a killer sleaze rock soundtrack and an ensemble cast with nearly perfect chemistry. Much like "The Boys," "Peacemaker" tackles America's white supremacy problem, though it takes a slightly more personal tack, as Peacemaker's dad is a white supremacist supervillain called the White Dragon (Robert Patrick). With the help of his new team, the 11th Street Kids, and his new friend, Leota Adebayo (Danielle Brooks), Peacemaker learns how to be true to himself and reject his father's hateful ideals, though it will take him a lot of time and work to undo all of those years of trauma. "Peacemaker" is James Gunn at his absolute best, so it's no wonder that the series set records for HBO Max. Peacemaker is the messy, goofy, deeply damaged bisexual hero we needed most when this year was just starting, and I can't wait to see him again whenever Gunn gets around to season 2. 

Turning deeply specific and personal material into a story that's ultimately universal isn't always easy, but Sterlin Harjo and Taika Waititi's FX series "Reservation Dogs" does it in every single episode with incredible style and so much heart. The show follows a crew of Indigenous teenagers living on a reservation in rural Oklahoma reckoning, with the loss of one of their own, who died tragically a year prior, and it's tapping into something truly fresh and authentic. The third season started with the teens at odds after Elora (K. Devery Jacobs) ran away to California with her new friend Jackie (Elva Guerra), leaving Bear (D'Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai), Willie Jack (Paulina Alexis), and Cheese (Lane Factor) behind in Oklahoma. The overarching theme of the season is how we are shaped by grief, as the reservation dogs find their friendship strained without Daniel around, the Aunties finally open up about how much the death of Cookie, Elora's mother, changed them, and Elora finds herself truly on her own after the death of her grandmother. It's heavy stuff, but the show finds a way to still be gut-bustingly funny and warm, and the episodes are more likely to make you tear up from joy than sorrow.

There are many great moments in the second season of "Reservation Dogs," including interactions with smartass spirits, a beautiful goodbye to Daniel, and an episode where reservation cop Big (Zahn McClarnon) ends up discovering a white supremacist cult while accidentally high on Kenny Boy's (Kirk Fox) psychedelics. But there's nothing quite like "Wide Net," which follows the women of the series as they party at the annual Indian Health Services conference. Seeing contemporary Indigenous women of various shapes and sizes embrace their sexuality, celebrate one another, and misbehave like the stars of a raunchy sex comedy is some of the purest, most wholesome joy you can experience in thirty minutes. It's a perfect example of what makes "Reservation Dogs" so great because the show fully commits to representing a corner of life in America that has been in the shadows for far too long. It's earnest and authentic, it's brilliantly made in every way, and it's the best TV show of the year.