‘Homeward Bound’, The Leftovers It’s decently hard to have any kind of category about television greats and not include The Leftovers in some way or another. The way it challenged television norms and still gave us a timeless mirror into the human condition is unparalleled. Despite the fact that every episode is a work of art, one of the most universally lauded scenes comes in the finale of the second season-- Kevin (Justin Theroux) stuck in purgatory, must sing ‘Homeward Bound’ as part of a spiritual karaoke to allow him to return back to his family. Yes, really. Everything about the scene is perfect-- from the sheer terror on Kevin’s face to the way that he can’t really sing but tries so hard--- there’s a reason the show has become emblematic of the potential for great television. The Leftovers is a big show about a lot of things, but in that moment when Kevin is on that stage, there’s only one thing that matters: he really, really wants to go home.The willingness of the show to treat that with the same respect as lets say, our meaning on earth or what happens when we die, is what sets it apart.
‘The Final Countdown’, Arrested Development Nothing says magic and pomp and circumstance quite like Europe’s ‘The Final Countdown’, as demonstrated by magician extraordinaire Gob (or G.O.B) in Arrested Development. Do you like magic tricks? Well you’ve come to the wrong place. Do you like live performances that are 40% running around, 30% interpretative dance, 20% holding a knife between your teeth and 10% “magic”? Then you’ve come to the right place! Arguably one of the best running jokes in Arrested Development is Gob’s sheer lack of illusionary talent but nonetheless the banging soundtrack and sharp moves make up for the increasingly bizarre failures of his magical escapades. ‘Stars’ (Live at Montreux), Bojack Horseman Bojack Horseman is well known for being not only a hilarious animated comedy but also a deeply poignant look at addiction, fame and bad people who do bad things but desperately want to be better. The first two seasons, while still possessing that same emotional depth that would make it such a beloved triumph in its later years, largely veer towards the more comedic tones, but the overall shift from “comedy” to “comedydrama” can be pinpointed to the finale of season 3. There’s a lot that leads up to this scene; a hilarious awards race, the break-up of Bojack and Princess Caroline’s working relationship and of course, the loss of a life. Completely broken down by his past actions (and his own compliance in his misery), Bojack drives his yellow ferrari down a desert road as Nina simone’s ‘stars’ plays. The pacing of the scene is pure gold, the montage that plays as he speeds up, the way he slowly lets go of the car, and the beautiful melancholy of Simone’s tenor serenading him through his breakdown makes watching hard but looking away even harder. It’s a beautiful end to a beautiful but dark season, and it’s the perfect set up for what will happen next in Bojacks’ saga. ‘Paradise Circus’, Luther Luther follows the eponymous moody and brilliant London detective played by Idris Elba. It breaks the mold of dry British crime procedurals by offering a more thrilling, edgy, and cerebral experience. At the same time, it refrains from deploying much of the over the top spectacle seen in its popular contemporary, Sherlock. It’s rhythm is more subdued, cynical, and melancholic; broken up by tangential moments of action. The first 5 minutes of the series offers a window into the world of John Luther. We witness a tense moment of decision, violence, and moral ambiguity. The title sequence bleeds in. We hear the rhythmic snare drum and dreamlike vocals of Massive Attack’s ‘Paradise Circus’ whose lyrics reflect the troubling experience of the show’s antiheroic protagonist. “Love is like a sin, my love, for the ones who feel it the most.” As we see later in the series, Luther’s sense of duty conflicts directly with his underlying capacity to empathize with others. He feels insecure engaging in relationships and often overreacts as a result of his insecurity. His sense of duty and experiences of loss color his emotional connections with a shade of guilt. Closeness, therefore, evokes a sense of sinful anxiety because of its inherent opportunity cost and risk of further anguish.
