The 20 best new TV shows of 2017 | Little White Lies

Not Movies

The 20 best new TV shows of 2017

23 Dec 2017

Words by Hannah Strong

Two men, one wearing a beige coat and the other a black leather jacket, standing on a snowy street.
Two men, one wearing a beige coat and the other a black leather jacket, standing on a snowy street.
From Amer­i­can Gods to GLOW, we take a look at the bright­est stars to grace the small screen this year.

From film direc­tors mak­ing their small screen debuts to utter­ly bizarre ani­mat­ed come­dies, it’s been a roller­coast­er year for tele­vi­sion. In an attempt to make order out of chaos, we’ve put togeth­er this run-down of the best new shows released dur­ing 2017 (and for this rea­son Twin Peaks didn’t make the cut). Look­ing for some­thing to binge-watch over the fes­tive sea­son? This list is for you. Have we missed your favourite? Let us know what had you glued to the screen @LWLies

Woman in a kitchen holding a dish with food, appearing surprised.

If you’ve ever want­ed to see Drew Bar­ry­more chow down on human flesh, this is the show for you. Vic­tor Fresco’s kooky sub­ur­ban com­e­dy-hor­ror didn’t sound like much on paper, but it’s actu­al­ly a whip-smart, incred­i­bly enjoy­able ride – thanks of course to Barrymore’s endur­ing charm, and the cast­ing of Tim­o­thy Olyphant as her well-mean­ing air­head of a husband.

Two people in casual conversation outdoors, surrounded by others at an informal gathering.

Adapt­ed from Chris Kraus’ nov­el of the same name, I Love Dick blurs the line between fan­ta­sy and real­i­ty, square­ly sit­u­at­ing Kathryn Hahn’s Chris at the cen­tre of the sto­ry. The epony­mous Dick is played by Kevin Bacon, while Chris’ hus­band takes the form of Grif­fin Dunne, in this slow-burn dra­ma from Jill Soloway and Sarah Gub­bins. It’s got a breathy cadence that might not suit every palette, but it’s a refresh­ing­ly can­did por­trait of female desire and sensuality.

Two young men intently looking at a mobile phone.

Mak­ing of a Mur­der­er gripped true crime fans around the world in 2015, so much so that Net­flix decid­ed to lam­poon its own suc­cess with a grip­ping new true-crime saga. Shot with the same poe-faced restraint of the orig­i­nal, Amer­i­can Van­dal is an impres­sive tes­ta­ment to see­ing a joke through to com­ple­tion, but also pro­vides a sur­pris­ing­ly per­ti­nent com­men­tary on the high school experience.

A man in a suit stands in the foreground of a scene with a 1950s style trolley car in the background, and a woman holding a baby in the middle ground.

Long-time fans were left large­ly dis­ap­point­ed by Brad Silberling’s 2004 adap­tion of the beloved YA series, so Netflix’s new adap­ta­tion was a nice sur­prise. Fea­tur­ing Patrick War­bur­ton as state­ly nar­ra­tor Lemo­ny Snick­et and Neil Patrick Har­ris clown­ing around as the nefar­i­ous Count Olaf, it’s a fam­i­ly-friend­ly caper with some nifty tricks up its sleeve, designed to intro­duce the sto­ry to a new gen­er­a­tion of fans whilst retain­ing those who have loved the books for the past 18 years.

Four women in colourful leotards and activewear standing by a wooden bench.

The series you didn’t know you need­ed in your life until it burst onto the scene last sum­mer, GLOW (that’s Gor­geous Ladies of Wrestling, FYI) rocked Net­flix like a hur­ri­cane. Ali­son Brie and Bet­ty Gilpin game­ly take on lead­ing lady duties whilst Marc Maron gives anoth­er sol­id per­for­mance as the slight­ly sleazy Sam Sylvia. The icing on the cake though? The fab­u­lous sup­port­ing cast of tal­ent­ed women, includ­ing Kate Nash, Britt Baron and Jack­ie Tohn.

A man in a dark room gripping a firearm, his face illuminated by the weapon's light.

2017 was anoth­er big year for Mar­vel tele­vi­sion releas­es, with Legion, Inhu­mans, Iron Fist and The Defend­ers all mak­ing their small screen debut. The Pun­ish­er was def­i­nite­ly one of the bet­ter ven­tures, in no small part thanks to Jon Bernthal’s pow­er­house per­for­mance as Frank Cas­tle. Bat­tling PTSD and the might of the US gov­ern­ment, it’s a super­hero series with­out any actu­al super­heroes – just shades of grey and the absolute pow­er cor­rupts absolute­ly’ mantra run­ning through its core.

Interior scene with diverse group of young people.

Adapt­ed from the 2014 film of the same name, this col­lege-based com­e­dy fol­lows a group of stu­dents of colour at a pre­dom­i­nant­ly white school, who attempt to fight the social injus­tice that dom­i­nates their cam­pus. It’s a satir­i­cal look at race rela­tions, but more impor­tant­ly, it’s a per­son­al sto­ry told by a bril­liant cast, head­ed up by the fan­tas­tic Logan Brown­ing, who seems des­tined for great things.

Cartoon character with brown curly hair, glasses, and a worried expression riding a bicycle in a wooded area with buildings in the background.

Few shows have been able to real­ly cap­ture the true nature of puber­ty: that is, the sense of teenage malaise com­bined with an over­whelm­ing gross­ness that for some rea­son, every­one is afraid to talk about. This shared expe­ri­ence of hor­mone-fuelled rage, lust and humour comes to life in Nick Kroll and Andrew Goldberg’s ani­mat­ed series. Uncom­fort­able, out­landish and often­times dis­turb­ing, it’s one of the most painful­ly hon­est depic­tions of the teenage wilder­ness years, and does a sur­pris­ing­ly nuanced job of talk­ing about the frus­trat­ing­ly taboo sub­ject of female sex­u­al­i­ty too.

Two young women, one wearing a floral print top and the other a printed top, sitting together and holding hands on a sofa in a domestic setting.

A har­row­ing account of organ­ised child abuse in Rochdale, Three Girls was based in fact, which only serves to make it all the more chill­ing to watch. Pow­ered by bril­liant per­for­mances from Max­ine Peake and its young leads (Mol­ly Wind­sor, Ria Zmitrow­icz and Liv Hill), it’s an unpleas­ant and effect­ing watch, but suc­ceeds large­ly due to the sym­pa­thy and and focus it places on the vic­tims rather than the abusers – some­thing that time and time again, the media fails to do.

A man in a black coat stands in a rural landscape.

Cre­at­ed by David Shore and Bryan Cranston, Sneaky Pete slipped past many a radar in 2017, but it’s more than worth mak­ing time for. Gio­van­ni Ribisi plays a con-man who takes on the play of the cen­tu­ry when he steals the iden­ti­ty of his for­mer cell­mate, but quick­ly finds him­self embroiled in a whole heap of new trou­ble. Fea­tur­ing Cranston in an excel­lent vil­lain­ous role and Beloved Char­ac­ter Actress Mar­go Mar­tin­dale, it’s a black com­e­dy with a pleas­ing amount of bite.

Two individuals standing in front of a large clown painting on the wall, one wearing a suit and the other wearing a green dress.

We’re cheat­ing slight­ly by includ­ing The Good Place, as it’s actu­al­ly on its sec­ond sea­son, but hav­ing under­gone a near-enough reboot at the out­set and only becom­ing avail­able to UK audi­ences this year, it’s worth men­tion­ing. Kirsten Bell plays against-type as a repel­lant woman try­ing to con her way into Heav­en, whilst the always charm­ing Ted Dan­son proves a nice foil as an angel who’s not all he seems to be.

Two people embracing outdoors at night, illuminated by lights.

Spike Lee’s work over the past few years has been a lit­tle incon­sis­tent, but he struck gold in 2017 when he adapt­ed his own 1986 film of the same name for the big screen. Fea­tur­ing a lumi­nes­cent DeWan­da Wise as Lola Dar­ling, the show was a breath of fresh air in what’s been a fair­ly demor­al­is­ing year for women.

Three people, two men and one woman, conversing on a porch. The man in the middle is wearing a robe and holding a mug, while the other two are in formal attire.

Bill Dubuque has a bit of a che­quered past when it comes to films (he was respon­si­ble for The Accoun­tant and A Fam­i­ly Man, as well as The Judge) so Ozark was a pleas­ant sur­prise. Star­ring Jason Bate­man (who also direct­ed a hand­ful of episodes) as a mild-man­nered finan­cial advi­sor indebt­ed to a Mex­i­can car­tel, Ozark quick­ly unfold­ed into a messy game of cat and mouse, with career-best turns from Bate­man and Lau­ra Lin­ney, who plays his long-suf­fer­ing wife.

Three men at a bar, enjoying drinks and conversation in a dimly lit, cosy setting.

James Fran­co did dou­ble duty in HBO’s lat­est for­ay into 1970s NYC (Vinyl didn’t do too well for them in 2016), play­ing twin broth­ers Vin­cent Mar­ti­no and Frankie Mar­ti­no. A slick but sur­pris­ing­ly grit­ty look at the seedy under­bel­ly of one of the most famous cities in the world, The Deuce took a dive into the emerg­ing porn busi­ness as well as the mob, but suc­ceed­ed large­ly on the strength of Fran­co and Mag­gie Gyllenhaal’s performances.

Several people in 1930s-style clothing stand in a hallway, one woman with curled hair and a book in hand.

Fresh from helm­ing the 2016 Gilmore Girls reunion, Amy Sher­man-Pal­ladi­no turned her atten­tion to a new com­e­dy series this year. A peri­od com­e­dy-dra­ma about a Jew­ish house­wife who dis­cov­ers her tal­ent for stand-up com­e­dy when faced with an unex­pect­ed divorce, it’s smart, con­fi­dent, and effort­less­ly charm­ing. It might not be real­is­tic, but a bit of escapism is more than wel­come – par­tic­u­lar­ly when its star (Rachel Bros­na­han) is such a delight.

Four firefighters in yellow protective gear, including a man in a dark jacket and glasses, standing in front of a fire engine.

It’s been quite a while since we last got our mitts on a new Ther­oux series, but 2017 hailed the return of everyone’s favourite par­ka-wear­ing doc­u­men­tar­i­an. Dark States saw Louis trav­el back to the USA (source of so much mate­r­i­al for him over the years) and inves­ti­gate hero­in addic­tion in small-town Amer­i­ca, pros­ti­tu­tion in Hous­ton, and Milwaukee’s high homi­cide rates. All three instal­ments were har­row­ing, offer­ing no easy answers, but a fas­ci­nat­ing insight into how the US gov­ern­ment con­tin­ues to fail its more vul­ner­a­ble citizens.

Three women running on a beach, wearing athletic clothing in grey, green, and blue.

2017 was a killer year for Nicole Kid­man (see The Killing of a Sacred DeerThe Beguiled) and her turn in Jean-Marc Vallée’s Big Lit­tle Lies was no excep­tion. Joined by Reese With­er­spoon, Shai­lene Wood­ley and Zoe Kravitz, she formed part of a for­mi­da­ble female alliance in the afflu­ent Cal­i­forn­ian sun­shine. Things could have very eas­i­ly lapsed into melo­dra­ma, but sharp wit and a pleas­ing­ly weighty script kept view­ers com­ing back for more.

Two women in red cloaks and bonnets, looking solemn.

Per­haps no show on the air­waves dom­i­nat­ed the head­lines in 2017 like The Handmaid’s Tale. Run­ning par­al­lel to an increas­ing­ly absurd Trump pres­i­den­cy, the show was a faith­ful ren­der­ing of Mar­garet Atwood’s 1985 nov­el, har­row­ing and haunt­ing with a stand­out per­for­mance from Eliz­a­beth Moss.

Two men standing in a dark lift, one wearing a blue suit and the other a striped jumper.

Plen­ty have tried and failed to adapt Neil Gaiman’s nov­els for the screen, but in 2017, Starz man­aged to do it. Trip­py, bold, and unapolo­get­i­cal­ly vio­lent, Amer­i­can Gods was every­thing Gaiman’s orig­i­nal promised and so much more, thanks large­ly to a stel­lar cast and the involve­ment of Bryan Fuller and Michael Green.

Two men in suits seated at a table, engaged in a serious discussion.

A fas­ci­nat­ing insight into the ori­gins of crim­i­nal pro­fil­ing came cour­tesy of David Finch­er, who made his first for­ay into tele­vi­sion with Net­flix. An unset­tling but end­less­ly engross­ing char­ac­ter study, shot with Fincher’s usu­al cin­e­mat­ic flair, it flips the cam­era around and avoids becom­ing a voyeuris­tic ser­i­al killer dra­ma by focus­ing instead on Jonathan Groff’s Hold­en Ford – a naïve but tal­ent­ed FBI spe­cial agent.

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