Streaming Shows Actually Worth Watching Right Now
I watch approximately two hours of television every night. That's my window — from when the last kid falls asleep (around 9pm, theoretically, though my youngest has recently developed a habit of needing "one more glass of water" that extends bedtime by twenty minutes) to when I fall asleep myself (around 11pm, usually mid-episode, which means I spend the first five minutes of every viewing session rewinding to figure out what I missed while unconscious).
In those two hours I need something that grabs me immediately, doesn't require a PhD to follow, and ideally makes me feel something — laughter, tension, surprise, or that particular emotional gut-punch that good television delivers when you least expect it. Here's what's earned those precious hours recently.
Currently Obsessed
Slow Horses (Apple TV+). British spies who are bad at their jobs, running operations out of a damp London office that smells like their boss's takeaway curry. Gary Oldman is magnificent as Jackson Lamb — a brilliant spy who hasn't showered in what appears to be weeks and treats his subordinates with a hostility that is somehow endearing. Each season is six episodes. No filler. No unnecessary subplots. Just tight, smart, darkly funny spy fiction. I've watched it twice. It's better the second time.
The Bear (Hulu). A fine-dining chef takes over his late brother's Chicago beef sandwich shop. If that premise sounds boring, I assure you it is the least boring show on television. The kitchen scenes are filmed with a frenetic energy that made my anxiety spike so badly I had to pause halfway through episode seven of season one and do breathing exercises. It's that intense. It's also that good. The episode "Fishes" from season two — set entirely at a family Christmas — is one of the best hours of television I've ever seen.
Shogun (Hulu/FX). Historical drama set in 1600s Japan. I went in expecting Game of Thrones with samurai. What I got was a nuanced, beautifully shot meditation on power, loyalty, and cultural collision that made me google "can I visit Osaka" at midnight. The performances are extraordinary. The cinematography is the kind that makes you stop scrolling your phone and actually watch. I finished it in four nights and immediately wanted to start over.
Comfort Rewatches
The Great British Bake Off (Netflix). My emotional support television show. Nobody yells. Nobody gets dramatically eliminated by a host standing at the end of a dark corridor holding a single candle. They bake. They're kind to each other. They hug when things go wrong. Paul Hollywood's handshake is the highest-stakes moment in the entire series and that's exactly the energy I need at 10pm on a Wednesday.
Schitt's Creek (Netflix). I've seen every episode at least three times. The character development from season one (unlikeable rich family stuck in a small town) to season six (the most heartfelt, genuine ensemble on television) is a masterclass in writing. I cry at the series finale every single time. Not a single tear — full, ugly, mascara-destroying crying. My kids have walked in on this and were concerned. I told them these were happy tears. They were not entirely convinced.
The Guilty Pleasures
Love Is Blind (Netflix). I know. I KNOW. But hear me out: as someone who was on reality television, watching other people navigate the bizarre experience of having their relationships filmed is fascinating. I see the production techniques. I spot the frankenbites. I know exactly when a producer off-camera asked a leading question that made someone cry. And I still watch it. Because the human desire to see other people fall in love while wearing blindfolds in a pod is apparently universal.
Selling Sunset (Netflix). Real estate agents in Los Angeles selling houses that cost more than most people's lifetime earnings. The drama is manufactured. The fashion is excessive. The houses are genuinely stunning. I watch it the way some people watch nature documentaries — with awe at a world I can observe but don't fully belong to. Also, the interior design gives me ideas for my own home. My living room renovation was inspired entirely by a $14 million listing on this show. My renovation budget was slightly lower.
What I'm Waiting For
Severance Season 2 was everything I hoped it would be and I need Season 3 immediately. White Lotus Season 4 — wherever they go next, I'm there. And I've heard rumors about a new limited series on HBO about the early days of reality television. If they don't consult any actual reality TV veterans for accuracy, I will write a very strongly worded Instagram story about it.
For more on my entertainment perspective and the cultural impact of reality TV, check the full entertainment section. And for what happens after the TV goes off and the nighttime routine begins, that's in beauty.
