THE 100 BEST EPISODES of the Century

In Season 2’s Michelle MacLaren–directed midseason finale, Shane goes full Punisher after learning that Hershel has quarantined the county’s walker population in his barn. Meanwhile, a not-yet-ruthless Rick, eager to be a good guest, lamely insists that the farm is still safe. Also, Glenn and Maggie make out.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
It might be the series’s most iconic moment: As Shane and other soon-to-be-killed-off characters (this show did you dirty, T-Dog) silently contemplate the carnage in the wake of what one producer called “Barn-ageddon,” a girlish groan emerges from inside. It’s soon followed by its source, Sophia (Madison Lintz), who’d been missing since the season’s first episode. Carol’s undead daughter emerges from the barn and totters toward the group slowly enough for MacLaren to capture reaction shots from everyone. Even Punisher Shane seems paralyzed by the depressing sight, so Rick—who seconds earlier was all set to help Hershel add to the barn’s walker count—strides forward and does to Sophia what he did to the young walker he put down in the pilot. Although in retrospect the significance of the ex-lawman’s conversion to Team Post-Apocalypse is undercut by the countless resolutions Rick makes and breaks in subsequent seasons, it was powerful at the time.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
According to effects artist Greg Nicotero on AMC’s Talking Dead, MacLaren shot two endings for the episode: one in which Sophia looked like a zombie, and one in which she looked like her old self, reflecting the way that her former companions still wanted to see her. A blend of both might have worked well—maybe MacLaren could have faked the audience out by hiding Sophia’s true nature until after Rick pulled the trigger—but that approach would have detracted from the initial reveal. Not to mention that in most cases, it’s probably wise not to risk any confusion about why a protagonist is killing a kid. —Ben Lindbergh

Moriarty attempts to steal the Crown Jewels and gets himself caught, detained, tried, and—mysteriously—acquitted, despite all evidence, including Sherlock’s testimony, weighing against him. Upon his release, Moriarty sets out to ruin Sherlock’s life.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Moriarty unexpectedly killing himself in the episode’s final minutes, thus throwing Sherlock—and the viewer—into a logistical panic regarding the episode’s solution. Moriarty’s suicide precipitates the season finale’s notorious cliffhanger, in which Sherlock swan dives off the roof of St. Bartholomew.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Andrew Scott—as Moriarty, he’s doing the maximally flamboyant version of the Joker’s and Raoul Silva’s get-caught schemes from The Dark Knight and Skyfall, respectively. From stealing the Crown Jewels to shoving a gun in his own mouth, he makes a great spectacle of himself while making a mockery of Sherlock. The show has struggled with villains ever since, and the show’s third-season finale, “His Last Vow,” simply remixed “The Reichenbach Fall” for Sherlock’s end game with the vengeful mogul Charles Augustus Magnussen. —Justin Charity

When it’s spring break in Laguna Beach, you go to Cabo, the magical land of drama and underage drinking. With Kristin and Stephen broken up, L.C. sees an opportunity. Kristin, meanwhile, acts like a completely normal single girl, while Stephen has a breakdown and vigorously slut-shames her for it.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“What happens in Cabo stays in Cabo.” It’s a line that so efficiently lays down the rules of spring breaks across the globe—one that is so good that seemingly everyone in the Laguna Beach cast says it at least once in a 26-minute span.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
“Iconic” might be the wrong word, but Stephen’s freakout over seeing Kristin dancing on a bar is at least one of the most memorable scenes in reality TV history. Shockingly (at least on rewatch), the show depicts Kristin—a teenage girl with free will, unbound by any commitments—as the villain, and Stephen as the hero, as he shouts “Slut!” across a Mexican bar like a sentient Twitter egg. The framing of Laguna Beach certainly hasn’t aged well, but they should still get some credit for, in one shot alone, showing us such a clear depiction of toxic masculinity before the phrase was even popularized. —Andrew Gruttadaro

Queen Elizabeth II is crowned in an elaborate recreation of the real 1953 coronation—featuring Handel, scepters, and hundreds of extras in fur-lined robes. Meanwhile, her uncle and husband both have tantrums about not being king, which puts Elizabeth in the impossible position of trying to balance public duty and personal life. Queens: They can’t have it all.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Elizabeth is on the back foot, as she would put it, for a majority of this episode, trying to manage the childish behavior of the men around her. It’s not a setup for capital-A acting; Claire Foy spends a majority of her time in reaction mode, looking anxious and overwhelmed. But she is rewarded for her patience with the Anointing—the climactic scene of both the episode and the coronation ceremony (as we learn in a flashback featuring Elizabeth’s father, King George VI, played by Jared Harris). Foy does not say a single word for the last 10 minutes of “Smoke and Mirrors,” and you could not point to a single change in her physical behavior. Yet her transformation, while just sitting silently on a throne, is astounding. One minute she is a reluctant young woman, and the next, she’s a face on a stamp. It’s like she’s not even acting at all.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
Netflix reportedly spent around $7 million per episode of The Crown, and costume designer Michele Clapton recreated every single outfit in the Abbey for “Smoke and Mirrors.” But the “holy oil” for the Anointing? It’s olive oil from Tesco. —Amanda Dobbins

This should have been the Weeds series finale: a logical and satisfying end to Nancy Botwin’s relatively innocuous career as a suburban mom turned drug dealer in which she commits arson as a means of leaving her old life behind. It would have been perfect.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
In the penultimate scene, Mary-Louise Parker as Nancy Botwin talks to her dead husband, Judah, one final time. Jeffrey Dean Morgan had a recurring role as the infallible husband and father, and his specter was a mounting problem in Season 3; the benevolent ghost had to be exorcised. Before torching her house and thus fully ending her life as a dissatisfied suburban mother, she tells Judah, “If you’re still here, I tried.” This scene typified the glory days of Weeds, a phrase uttered probably only by people with direct connections to the production. It harnessed the thrill of watching Parker play a messy but effective criminal. The path of destruction on Weeds was merrier and brighter than on most other drug crime shows, but that was the point. Even neophyte drug dealers from the Lululemon set have to deal with consequences.

Who stole the episode, and why?
The show should also have ended with the Season 3 finale because it was Romany Malco’s last episode. He became better known as one of Steve Carell’s coworkers in The 40-Year-Old Virgin, but he was also Nancy’s hot supplier whom she occasionally slept with. They did not bid each other farewell with steamy sex in a grow room, but rather with an adult conversation in which they realize they don’t have much in common beyond their illicit vocation. Malco’s Conrad was the most charming of Nancy’s many love interests, and one of the show’s truest adults among a sea of grownups pretending to be them. —Juliet Litman

The spaceship Serenity is disabled while deep in space, leaving the crew with limited oxygen. Mal orders everyone to leave, while he stays behind in case someone hears their distress signal. As Mal nears death, the episode is interspersed with a series of delirious flashbacks he’s experiencing, showing how the crew came together.

Who stole the episode, and why?
It’s no secret that the heart and soul of Firefly is the ship, and the final flashback in “Out of Gas” shows the moment Mal first laid eyes on Serenity. He couldn’t look away, and neither could the audience.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
Mal: Let me show you the rest. And … and try to see past what she is, and onto what she can be.

Zoë: What's that, sir?

Mal: Freedom is what. —Kate Halliwell

Celebrating Drew Carey’s 10th anniversary as Price Is Right host, the show raised the stakes, awarding contestants $10,000 if they hit a dollar on the wheel and $25,000 if they hit a dollar again on their additional spin. In a sequence of sheer madness and impossible chance, three people hit a dollar five times in a row, and a record-setting $80,000 was given out.

What is the most memorable line of this episode?
“We’ve given away $80,000 just on this wheel spin,” Carey says in a fit of laughter, partially stunned and perhaps partially considering if this could bankrupt the show.

Who stole the episode, and why?
The wheel itself? The odds of hitting the dollar five times in a row are apparently 1 in 3.2 million, and the stakes were already raised to begin with. We talk about impossible-to-beat sports records—Cal Ripken’s consecutive games played, Wilt Chamberlain’s 100 points—but barring an extreme rewriting of the Price Is Right rules, the odds of this moment being topped are nearly impossible. —Miles Surrey

How’s that for a happy ending? After successfully rescuing his daughter from terrorists and foiling an assassination plot, Jack Bauer gets to the end of the longest day of his life (one of many to come), only to find out that his ex, Nina Myers, is a double agent. In the final seconds of the episode, we find out that Nina has murdered Jack’s wife, Teri.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
24 paved the way for shows like Game of Thrones. There had been twists in television before, but 24 weaponized them. Audiences generally came to television to be comforted, knowing that everything would eventually work out. 24 was an assault on the senses, and the final episode of the first season changed what we thought the rules of mainstream TV entertainment were. The hero might “win,” but at great personal cost. 

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Teri Bauer noticing the blood on the floor in the tech room with Nina. It’s a wrap for you, sis. —Chris Ryan

Sally Sparrow (Carey Mulligan!) discovers that the Doctor, a time-traveling Gallifreyan stuck in the past, has left a series of messages in her DVD collection warning her about the Weeping Angels, monsters who appear frozen in angelic statue when looked upon but who attack in an instant if you even blink. Hence the episode title.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
The episode falls into a category of “Doctor-lite” scripts for the BBC series, in which the Doctor is relegated to what amounts to a guest-starring role in someone else’s story. (Imagine an episode of Curb that focuses on Marty Funkhouser and features Larry David via Skype.) “Blink” allowed showrunner Russell T. Davies to work on two episodes simultaneously: one prominently featuring the Doctor (David Tennant) and his companion Martha Jones (Freema Agyeman) and CGI effects, and “Blink,” which barely featured the protagonists and whose main villains were statues with spooky lighting.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
Doctor Who has been on the air in various forms since 1963 and, like Batman, has a rogues’ gallery of recurring villains. The show has been criticized for playing those hits too often—every season has to have some appearance by the plunger-armed murderous BBQ smokers known as the Daleks—so the creation of a new and rather frightening adversary in the Weeping Angels was noteworthy. They made six other appearances and played a pivotal role in the departure of Doctor companions Amy and Rory, who—spoiler—blinked. —Rubie Edmondson

“‘Idol’ gives back $60 million, inspires thousands” is the perfect backhand-compliment headline for this celebrity-stuffed April 2007 charity telethon, which on its first night veered awesomely from the sublime (Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood, and Annie Lennox all dominated) to the ridiculous (Celine Dion duetted with a digitally reanimated Elvis).

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
The likes of Josh Groban, Green Day, Fergie, and Earth, Wind & Fire all did their best, but split this honor between Idol’s two most iconic singers. Of the live performances, Clarkson and Jeff Beck’s searing version of Patty Griffin’s “Up to the Mountain” got the most spontaneous mid-wail applause. And the montage of Underwood’s teary-eyed humanitarian trip to Africa, scored to her casually bombastic cover of “I’ll Stand by You,” best underscores the flamboyant pageantry of it all. Just ignore all the corny-celebrity attempts at  comedy, OK?

What is the most memorable line from the episode?
“Prepare to be startled!” chirped Ryan Seacrest, introducing the Celine-Elvis thing. The act of even trying to prepare for that debacle only left you further unprepared. —Rob Harvilla

“First touch: life.” So narrator Jim Dale says of protagonist Ned’s costly ability to revive the dead, and so we say of this gone-too-soon gem of a series, which in its first hour established itself as a vibrant and quirkily unconventional whodunit that’s so much more: a portrait of love, loss, and longing.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Lee Pace’s Ned and Anna Friel’s Chuck are the beating heart and charged skin of Pushing Daisies, but from the moment Chi McBride’s Emerson Cod and Kristin Chenoweth’s Olive Snook raise an eyebrow and an embarrassing masturbation admission, respectively, it’s abundantly apparent that Bryan Fuller’s creation will draw an extra surge of power from the interplay between the leads and their sidekicks. How better to show us what Ned craves with Chuck than by injecting such liveliness and oddity into every one of his interactions with both his partner and neighbor?

Every scene of Pushing Daisies crackles with brightness and shine, a candy shell covering the pain; more often than not, in the pilot and beyond, McBride and Chenoweth are the ones layering on that coating.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“Well, I suppose dying’s as good an excuse as any to start living.” We mere mortals might not be able to relate to Chuck’s particular existential state when she says this, as no one reading this—to the best of my knowledge—has ever been murdered aboard a cruise ship while smuggling a briefcase of plaster (actually gold) monkeys, only to be raised from the grave by the touch of a childhood neighbor/first kisser, who happens to be able to bring people back to life, with some fine print attached. But surely we can all relate to the sentiment, and to that particularly debilitating sensation of feeling like we’re watching our own lives melt away. —Mallory Rubin

The contestants complete a silly challenge (do cockney accents next to Boris Kodjoe) and pose for an uncomfortable photo shoot (pillow fight with a male model while being sprayed with feathers). But the true stuff of memes goes down when Tyra eliminates underdog model Tiffany Richardson, Richardson responds flippantly, and Tyra just snaps.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
If you’re a citizen of the internet it’s probably already playing on loop in your head: the typically composed Tyra, in a black tube-top dress, standing before two girls onstage, her fiery red hair bouncing as she screams, “I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU! WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU. HOW DARE YOU?”

The scene has since been chopped apart and memed to no end, becoming a go-to mode of expression in online vernacular. An episode of Family Guy even memorably portrayed Tyra as a model who, mid-angry speech, transforms into a lizard and swallows a contestant.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
In a BuzzFeed News feature published in 2017, Richardson alleged that Tyra also took digs at her socioeconomic status, yelling, “You can go back to your house and sleep on your mattress on the floor with your baby,” but that line was edited out of the episode. Richardson also revealed that Tyra and her mother, Carolyn London, later visited her in her hotel room to smooth things over. Immediately after that meeting, which Richardson says left her feeling “juiced up,” producers filmed an exit interview to capture a more hopeful resolution to the conflict. —Alyssa Bereznak

Public pranks—like a pantsless cop being handcuffed to a street light—hilariously fill the segments between Eric Andre’s wild interviews. The main event is James Van Der Beek’s attempt to get through an interview while sitting next to bad clones of himself, all while T-Pain scats nearby.

Who stole the episode, and why?
The last bit of the episode features a segment called "Cook Like a Pro,” which features comedian Rory Scovel. Things do not go well for Chef Rory: The segment starts with him breaking apart an artichoke while slowly undergoing a severe crisis of confidence over God’s existence. The crisis grows stronger, and after breaking glass on his head and hands, a bloodied Chef Rory begins to cry as T-Pain sings a very dramatic and beautiful rendition of “The Star-Spangled Banner."

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
Let's be honest: This episode probably set television back a few years. Eric Andre is exceptional at taking typical TV tropes, warping them with his incredibly weird mind, and releasing a product that seems familiar up until you see someone vomiting on a table and then eating it. Andre’s comedy shocks viewers and forces them to sit through ridiculously uncomfortable moments, but if you're able to muster the courage to watch the whole thing, you’ll be rewarded with hearty laughs and memories that will (maybe unfortunately) last forever. No one has tried the things Eric Andre has tried on TV, which in a way makes his show low-key influential. —Sean Yoo

In the show’s original series finale, Fry wants to learn an instrument to impress his love interest, Leela. But his human hands suck, and he can’t play well, so he makes a literal deal with the (robot) devil to replace his hands with robot hands, and in a twist, ends up with the Robot Devil’s hands.

Who stole this episode, and why?
The Robot Devil. He’s such a perfect character for the retro-futurism of Futurama’s New New York, and his scheming brings out some of the best comedy in so many of the other characters.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
In Futurama’s run on Fox, the network rarely committed to renewing the series. So this episode, the Season 5 finale, was produced under the assumption that it might be the series finale. As such, it includes almost every character in the series, begins to wrap up the Fry-Leela will-they-or-won’t-they story line, and has a perfect, meta kicker about the state of Futurama: Leela saying to Fry, about the opera he composed for her, “I want to hear how it ends.” —Riley McAtee

Nadiya Hussain not only impressed the judges by winning a classic GBBO final—she transformed a baking competition into an overcoming-the-odds tearjerker on par with any Pixar movie. Who knew that mille-feuilles could be so inspirational?

Who stole the episode, and why?
Nadiya, who whipped up delicious iced buns, a technically sound mille-feuille (hell yeah, custard slices), and a showstopping wedding cake adorned with jewels she wore on her wedding day. More than that, she offered a glimpse into how it feels to realize one’s potential.

One of GBBO’s primary appeals, at least when compared to its cooking or baking show counterparts, is that it tends to provide a relatively stress-free viewing experience: The baking takes place in a white tent in the middle of an idyllic countryside. The contestants pull for one another, and the producers often cut away to footage of rabbits, birds, and deer. The judges’ names—and you can’t make this up—are Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood. All of this is soothing.

But Nadiya’s victory felt different. It didn’t feel like a reprieve from reality; it felt like watching sports. Nadiya slowly gained confidence as the season went on, and by the time she was waiting alongside fellow finalists Tamal Ray and Ian Cumming for the verdict, it was clear she’d come into her own. Reality TV is at its best when it feels, well, real. Getting to see Nadiya break free of her personal limitations was a genuine thrill.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“I’m never going to put boundaries on myself ever again. I’m never going to say I can’t do it. I’m never going to say maybe. I’m never going to say ‘I don’t think I can.’ I can. And I will.” —Nadiya Hussain, a hero —Ben Glicksman

Somehow, the Oprah cameo is only the third most important thing to happen in this hour of television, because it also features (a) the now-famous cleanout of Kim Kardashian’s closet by one Kanye West and (b) a deeply intimate family therapy session in which Kim, Kris Jenner, and therapist Dr. Nicki make Rob Kardashian cry. (The business dispute over Rob’s forthcoming sock line Arthur George is the fourth most important thing on this episode.)

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
It is truly jarring, now, with a full knowledge of the tabloid ups and downs and more downs to come, to watch Kanye West remake Kim Kardashian to his specific visual standards. The scene confirms every negative suspicion one might have about their relationship, and also illustrates the remarkable extent to which Kardashian’s appearance, both sartorially and physically, has changed in the last six years. I cannot believe Kris Jenner has not scrubbed this from the internet. It is riveting to watch.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
Kardashian episodes always involve family squabbles, but some themes are solidified in this episode: Kim as the solo star (with help from Kanye), Rob as the outcast, the sisters as future makeup moguls, Kris as the business mind. This is the configuration that would lead the Kardashians to take over every major media platform — TV included — for the next decade. Blame it on Dr. Nicki. —Amanda Dobbins

Long-unseen Police Academy star Steve Guttenberg, living quite nicely it seems, hosts a birthday party in his home, and the Party Down catering crew works the affair. Quickly, the party devolves into an impromptu writing workshop.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Guttenberg, duh. The Gute’s most memorable role this century, prior to this, was a recurring spot on Party Down cocreator Rob Thomas’s beloved Veronica Mars. On that show, he played against type as a ruthless millionaire. Here, he’s a blithely pretentious (rich guy) artiste. That’s range!

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
Steve Guttenberg: Have you ever had anything produced?

Roman DeBeers: Yeah, we wrote I Am Legend. I just work catering to keep in touch with the common man. —Sean Fennessey

Kurt tries out for football after his father catches him dancing to “Single Ladies,” which he claims is a training exercise for the team. He comes out to his father at the end of the episode. Quinn admits to Finn that she’s pregnant, and Will’s wife, Terri, reveals that she’s been faking a pregnancy of her own.

What is the most memorable line from the episode?
“Hi, I'm Kurt Hummel and I'll be auditioning for the role of kicker.”

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Many aspects of Glee have not aged well, but the show never went wrong by throwing Lea Michele on a stage and letting her sing her heart out. This episode’s cover of Celine Dion’s “Taking Chances” was a prime example of Glee taking a cult-classic song and endearing it to a new generation through some good old-fashioned belting. —Kate Halliwell

Over the course of several Thanksgivings, from childhood to adulthood, we see Denise become open about her sexuality, then come out to her family, and then bring girlfriends over for the holiday.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
At the very end of the episode, Denise’s mother (who was not especially excited to learn that her daughter is a lesbian) shares a tender moment with Denise’s girlfriend. It’s really very touching and inspired.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
I’m not so sure that it influenced TV as much as it was indicative of the type of television we’ve gotten over the past few years, but placing Denise at the center of the episode (when the series is about Dev) was a really smart and good way to play it. (You see it in shows now like The Affair, and we’ve seen it on a bigger scale in shows past like on The Wire, where you could argue that Jimmy McNulty was the star of the show in Season 1 and then extremely not the star of the show in Season 2.) —Shea Serrano

When a slightly nerdy couple from Nebraska moves to Spain, a perfect crystallization of the House Hunters formula emerges: The two are unable to compromise, and they passive-aggressively bicker so much that they are barely able to choose a new apartment.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Easily the ending, when, after a full episode of back-and-forth arguing, Charles and Sandy each refuse to choose an apartment, ceding the decision to each other until the episode resembles a Saturday Night Live skit. Part of the (possibly twisted) joy of watching House Hunters and House Hunters International is schadenfreude from witnessing a couple get reduced to rubble by the stress of buying a new house; “Kendo and a PhD in Barcelona” is that schadenfreude amplified to the nth degree—the dialogue between Charles and Sandy is so fierce, so sharp, and so subtly mean that it’s impossible to watch without crying-laughing.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
Charles: I could put my office and study here.

Sandy: So, you’ll be here and I’ll be there and—

Charles [far too quickly]: And you’ll be quiet. —Andrew Gruttadaro

Like many of the high school dramedy’s best episodes, this one concerns the clash of cultures: Millie and Kim Kelly bonding over their dogs; Lindsay torn between her past and present friendships; the Weirs scrutinizing “Squeeze Box”; and Bill (Martin Starr) learning to like and live with his gym teacher outside of school.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Thomas F. Wilson as Coach Fredricks, the ex-jock and gym teacher who’s dating Bill’s mom, much to Bill’s dismay. For an uncoordinated nerd at the precise stage of puberty least suited to gym shorts, there’s no greater torment than phys ed and no greater tormentor than the coach who presides over that period and forces his subjects to run laps, seemingly only for his own sadistic satisfaction. The only solace for Bill is that the torture is contained to the gym, which makes it even more intolerable when Bill’s mom reveals that she’s dating Coach Fredricks and even invites him into their home, where he has the temerity to bad-mouth Bill Murray and drink from a mug labeled “Bill.”

Wilson, famous for playing bully Biff Tannen in Back to the Future, gets to be a good guy here, touchingly subverting the stereotype of the meathead and finding common ground with the geeks. Coach Fredricks prefers simple pleasures like basketball and Carl Weathers’s abs to Bill’s typical pursuits, but their mutual love of Bill’s mom—and an episode of Dallas, which Bill no longer needs to take in by himself—brings them together in classic, subculture-crossing Freaks fashion.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
The poignant but beautiful montage of latchkey kid Bill making himself a sandwich and settling in for an afternoon of solitary TV. The contrast between the public Bill—an awkward adolescent who doesn’t smile or emote much more than Starr does as Gilfoyle on Silicon Valley—and the private Bill, who helplessly, joyously laughs at Garry Shandling without worrying about whether there’s cheese stuck in his braces (there is) is one of the series’s many sentimental but insightful and sincere scenes. Freaks reminds us that we’re often closest to our true selves when we’re alone and not performing for our peers, particularly during our painfully self-conscious teen years. And it also drives home how celebrities and popular culture can be a refuge, a strong source of identification, and a bridge to the adult world during a time when our immediate surroundings seem hostile. —Ben Lindbergh

Three 20-something women from Manhattan’s misfit borough strive to overcome the stereotypes of their hometown. Lauren wants to move out of her family home; Danielle is hoping to shake her accent; Angela just wants a nice, nonwomanizing boyfriend.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
After the show came out, Staten Islanders were understandably upset about how their kind were represented on TV. But the three girls doubled down and defended themselves. “Not everybody has spiky hair,” Lauren Laner told silive.com. “Not everybody has an orange tint to them. Not everyone does, but the majority of Staten Island does. I don't think that us three gave Staten Island the reputation that it has. It had it before, and we're not the three to do something about it. Everybody has to do something about it."

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
True Life was able to present itself as a somewhat respectable documentary series because it frequently tackled serious topics like self-harm, mental disorders, or sexual identity. To include being “a Staten Island girl” as a life experience worth examining with the same depth was a new way to mock a certain kind of New York local. It also introduced the nation to the concept of the modern-day guido and laid the groundwork for legendary shows like Jersey Shore. —Alyssa Bereznak

“The Secret Box” is the SpongeBob universe’s version of the final scene from Se7en. “Band Geeks” is Squidward learning that the best way to impress people you went to high school with is to feign success and happiness.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
SpongeBob belting “Sweet Victory” in front of Squidward’s high school rival, Squilliam Fancyson III. For once in Squidward’s miserable life, he’s happy.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“Is mayonnaise an instrument?” has inspired memes, dubstep remixes, and even an attempt to prove that mayonnaise is, in fact, an instrument. (Though “The inner machinations of my mind are an enigma” is a close second place.) —Danny Heifetz

This episode of American Crime Story’s first season zeroes in on Marcia Clark (Sarah Paulson), the prosecutor turned media punching bag. It both advances the plot while taking time to explore the highly sexist, extremely unfair tabloid treatment Clark endured.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
When Clark changes her hairstyle and chaos ensues.

Who stole the episode, and why?
This episode belongs to Sarah Paulson, who plays Marcia Clark as tough and heartbroken, doing her job despite absurd scrutiny. Clark was vilified during the O.J. Simpson trial and mocked for her looks. Paulson's entire portrayal is an overdue image rehabilitation, but this episode in particular zones in on how unfair media coverage of Clark's appearance was at the time. Paulson had already proved that she could get Clark's jittery, diligent prosecutorial energy across on screen, but in this episode, she unearths the lawyer's vulnerable side. —Kate Knibbs

Washed-up John Rocker–esque relief pitcher Kenny Powers seeks renewal and rejuvenation as a substitute gym teacher at his old high school. Crude, rude, and downright disgusting, Powers attempts to acclimate to life minus the sex, drugs, and velocity. He fails. In his own words, he’s fuckin’ out.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
The breakneck six-minute opening segment that recaps Powers’s rise, fall, and descent into steroidal panic and bigoted failure.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“Undaunted, I knew the game was mine to win. Just like in life, all of my successes depend on me. I'm the man who has the ball, I'm the man who can throw it faster than fuck. So that is why I am better than everyone in the world. Kiss my ass and suck my dick. Everyone.” —Sean Fennessey

Cardi B and Yorma get into a club fight over DJ Self, who is Yorma’s boyfriend and Cardi’s producer and occasional hook-up. DJ Self decides that he needs to end things with Cardi and win back Yorma, while Cardi, on the advice of new friend Mariah, prioritizes her career above any fling.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Cardi B may feel ubiquitous now, but when she joined the cast of Love & Hip Hop: New York in 2015, she was a social media celebrity looking to capitalize on her modest fame and accelerate her music career. Instagram success does not always translate beyond the platform, but Cardi’s sensibility and proclivity for a sound bite fit perfectly within the Mona Scott TV universe. Her star was already on the rise, but Cardi used the new medium to make her case as a necessary celebrity.

Halfway through the episode, DJ Self tries to apologize to Cardi and end their affair. However, she refuses to accept, sick of his toying with her and feeling taken for granted. She ends the extracurricular relationship with Self before he gets the words out. She asserts herself and steals back the power. That’s the Cardi B we’ve come to know and celebrate.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
Cardi explains, “I’m an emotional gangster. I cry once a month and whatnot,” and then declares that she and Self will be business acquaintances only going forward. It’s classic Cardi B: a personal declaration so straightforward that it’s indisputable, followed by an expedient return to the matter at hand. It’s that sentiment that makes her music and public persona so delightful. —Juliet Litman

The Johnson family gathers round the television as yet another police officer is cleared of wrongdoing after shooting yet another unarmed black man. Rainbow has faith in the system, Andre is furious, and the family hashes out their differences, then splits them by going to a protest.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“Precious metals and sexual favors are the only currency during times of civil unrest.”

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
Black-ish was the first of an entire wave of sitcoms influenced by, or in some cases the product of, legendary writer Norman Lear. With its single-location argument between different generations of the same contentious yet loving family, this one episode of Black-ish looks like virtually every episode of The Carmichael Show or One Day at a Time. Channeling hot-button issues into a raw, witty, neatly resolved dispute is the stuff social-issues sitcoms are made of, and Black-ish showed that the social-issues sitcom could be built for the 21st century. —Alison Herman

The episode when Community went from a quirky middle-of-the-lineup sitcom to genuine experimental art. Jeff Winger’s decision to roll a die to determine who grabs the pizza delivery splits the study group’s reality into seven drastically different timelines. Mayhem ensues, and eventually everything works out, but not before the creation of the Darkest Timeline.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Community is an ensemble production, but the star in “Remedial Chaos Theory” is Abed. He’s the focal point of the episode, pointing out that rolling the die will splinter reality, and across the timelines, he’s the only one who seems to retain any sense of calm. Plus, he christens the Darkest Timeline with a set of felt goatees for himself and the rest of the crew. Long live Evil Abed.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
The presentation of Troy’s timeline. After Troy leaves to collect the pizza, Jeff hits his head on a ceiling fan, Pierce is shot in the leg, Shirley is splattered with blood, and Britta sets the room on fire. When Troy returned with the pies to see the disaster, a million memes were born. —Shaker Samman

Dr. Mark Greene decamps to his native Hawaii to live out his final days. He brings his troubled daughter Rachel, who accidentally fed MDMA to her baby sister earlier in the season, to patch up their relationship and teach her how to surf. It’s incredibly sad and moving.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Mark Greene sees his last patient at County General Hospital in Episode 18 of Season 8. In Episode 20, John Carter (Noah Wyle) reads a letter aloud from Dr. Greene, and his death is confirmed. Finally, in no. 21, the Mark Greene era of ER comes to an end. The show goes back in time a couple of days to dedicate a full episode to the character’s quest for closure, thereby ending the tenure of the true lead of an ensemble show. Episode 18 tied up Mark’s story as a doctor: He gave Carter the ceremonial benediction of “You set the tone,” which Dr. Morgenstern offered to Mark in the pilot; he taught a cocky new resident (Mekhi Phifer); he helped a little girl and a homeless man. With all that out of the way, “On the Beach” wraps up Mark’s story as a father who struggled to connect with his daughter as a result of his tough hours, his divorce, and his occasional myopia over eight seasons.

Greene was the moral compass on ER and a man of reason. Even after calamities that included a devastating missed case of preeclampsia, a brutal assault, and plenty of emotional lows, the character never fully unraveled. He was a resilient force—until this episode. Mark’s brain tumor ultimately overcomes him, and he dies in the presence of his daughters and his wife, Dr. Elizabeth Corday (Alex Kingston), in Hawaii. He tries to offer Rachel some last wisdom, but by this point his can barely speak. It’s a deeply sad exchange that presaged the ultimate felling of network TV’s emotional center.

Who stole the episode, and why?
ER is not a show known for its music supervision, but the use of Israel Kamakawiwo’ole’s “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” was impeccable. It’s a gentle song that undercuts the severity of the loss. In general, ER elicits celebration because of its commitment to vérité, a willingness to explore thorny issues, stellar acting, and George Clooney’s handsome visage. Kamakawiwo’ole’s song fosters a different tone, but it’s a different episode. —Juliet Litman

Dr. House rides a bus home from the strip club, the bus crashes, and House suffers a concussion. In recovery, House and his team must reconstruct the events of the crash in order to treat the injured bus driver.

Who stole the episode, and why?
This one’s tough because Hugh Laurie, Lisa Edelstein, and Anne Dudek are doing the Lord’s work all throughout this episode—but Robert Sean Leonard, as the helpless bystander, Dr. Wilson, embodies the episode’s carnage most intensively.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Dr. Cuddy dancing on a pole in Dr. House’s dream—a dehumanizing scene that brings House’s fundamental selfishness, despite his medical wonders, into dark relief. —Justin Charity

n the Season 8 finale, RHONJ supervillain Siggy sabotages archrival Margaret’s Studio 54–themed 50th birthday after hobbling in late wearing a walking boot because she sprained her ankle (on purpose, some whispered) on the way to the event.

What is the most memorable line of the episode?
At the party, when Danielle suggests that Siggy sprained her ankle for the attention, Dolores says, “You’re such a slob.”

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
Siggy Flicker left the show after the finale. She—excuse me, “an insider”—said her decision was the result of constant bullying by the other cast members. But a Bravo source claimed she left because “no one wanted to work with her anymore. She was spiraling completely out of control, so she wasn’t going to be asked back. This was a very cordial way of mutually desisting her off the show. It’s the best thing all around.” —Jason Concepcion

After Larry David’s limo driver gets too drunk at Ted Danson’s birthday party, L.D. has to take over the job, and ends up picking up John McEnroe from the airport. A journey to a cemetery and Staples Center unfolds, as Larry instructs McEnroe to “look at the freak book,” a picture book full of circus freaks that Larry is obsessed with.

Who stole the episode, and why?
McEnroe’s performance as a tired, befuddled passenger is perfect. His back-and-forth with “Charlie the limo driver,” a.k.a. Larry David—especially his retort, “Yeah, I like life!”—is one of the best exchanges in all of Curb Your Enthusiasm. The “What the fuck?” he lets out in the cemetery is fantastic line reading.

What is the most memorable line of the episode?
Larry to John McEnroe: “I admit it—I’m jealous of the gardener. Have you ever been jealous of a gardener?” —Andrew Gruttadaro

David Lynch imagines the birth of evil via a digressive look at an atomic explosion in New Mexico that unleashes a demonic force, hatches alien creatures, and inspires a phonographic trance. It is convolution as ultradramatic storytelling and a genuinely radical example of arthouse sensibility overwhelming television convention.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
A recently hatched moth-toad creature crawls into the mouth of a sleeping child, a symbol of evil being consumed by youth. Or something.

Who stole the episode, and why?
The Polish composer Krzysztof Penderecki, whose horrifying composition “Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima” scores the ravishing, terrifying atomic bomb sequence. —Sean Fennessey

A series that always started its episodes with a death begins its final one with new life — a fitting theme for a finale all about moving forward. As Claire drives off into her future, the episode does, too, concluding with a joyous, sorrowful montage of what’s ahead for everyone.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Ruth Fisher, who is a fascinating contradiction: prim yet vulgar, sidelined yet central, broken yet whole, a woman grieving her husband and firstborn who encourages her only daughter to move. “Motherhood is the loneliest thing in the world,” she tells Brenda; to Claire, she says: “You gave me life.” Both can be true.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Claire’s drive to New York in the closing minutes of the finale, with Sia’s “Breathe Me” blasting on her car stereo and the future lives and deaths of her loved ones drifting by, is the most emotionally uplifting/draining car commercial I’ve ever seen. —Katie Baker

Desperate to please his daughter on her birthday, Louie ventures into the bowels of Madison Square Garden to kiss the ring of Dane Cook—whom he has real-life beef with—and ask for tickets to see Lady Gaga.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Cook, who plays himself and regards Louis C.K. with a mixture of anger, bitterness, and begrudging respect as the two of them hash out the controversy over whether Cook stole jokes from Louie on his ascent to superstardom in the 2000s. As a person who was never on board with Dane Cook’s comedy, I was extremely #TeamLouie the first time I watched this. Rewatching it in 2018, following revelations of Louis C.K.’s sexual impropriety toward some female comedians, the center of gravity in their awkward exchange feels different. “You know what the biggest lie in the world is?” Cook asks at one point as C.K. shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “That you’re like a comic’s comic. … I’m a sellout and I sold my soul, and you have artistic integrity and you’re a good guy.” It’s a testament to both C.K.’s writing and Cook’s caustic delivery that this scene can read as an indictment of Cook, the arrogant headliner blinded by his fame, or of Louie, the underdog hiding behind a veneer of false modesty.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
The Cook-C.K. confrontation was originally supposed to take place at the New York comedy club Carolines, but it was Cook’s idea to stage the argument at Madison Square Garden instead. C.K., who had already shot down Cook’s suggestion that he come off less angry in the scene, was initially against the change. But eventually he had to acknowledge that the idea of him being escorted by a glowering security detail to see a stand-up comic who had eclipsed him by every measure of success was pretty damn funny. “I realized what an asshole I was being,” C.K. told the A.V. Club. “I really was letting my competitive ego fuck the bit up.” —Victor Luckerson

It seemed like such an ordinary episode of The Good Wife: a court case of the week; an accusation of ballot-box conspiracy; Kalinda rockin’ leather and doin’ work. And then the gunshots rang out, dividing the entire seven-season series in two: before Will Gardner’s death, and after.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
It’s the one that isn’t shown. When Will’s client snaps and grabs the bailiff’s gun, the camera instead turns to Diane and Kalinda as they hear shots, navigate chaos, and fear the worst. Later, though, there’s a scene that may be the most low-key wrenching of all: a serene Alicia Florrick, in the moments before she learns the news.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
Julianna Margulies helped convince Josh Charles to return for Season 5, enabling showrunners Michelle and Robert King to devise an impactful ending to his character’s arc. “We strongly considered the ‘sending Will to Seattle’ route,” the Kings said then, referring to another time a Margulies love interest — George Clooney in ER — was written off in Season 5. “But it didn’t do much for us dramatically.” —Katie Baker

In an attempt to escape the growing sexual tension with his cousin and roommate Maeby Fünke, George Michael clocks extra hours at the banana stand—until his father, Michael, makes Maeby get a job there too. After she doubles their losses, father and son decide that the only thing to do is burn the banana stand to the ground. Spoiler: It’s a huge mistake.

What is the most memorable line of the episode?
“There’s always money in the banana stand.”

Who stole the episode, and why?
Tobias, giving it all during his audition for a South Coast Boutique commercial: “OH MY GOD, WE’RE HAVING A FIRE … sale.” We’d expect no less dramatic flair from the future Frightened Inmate No. 2. —Lindsay Zoladz

A tale of three couples, “The Weekend” centers on Carrie Mathison and Nicholas Brody’s boozy, sex-filled, increasingly transparent trip to a cabin in the woods as they both aim to find out what exactly the other is up to. Meanwhile, Saul conducts an interrogation on a road trip, and Mike and Jessica play house.

The confrontation between Carrie and Brody happens when all—or at least most—of their cards are laid on the table. The day drinking, hay rolling, and lakeside chats all culminate with a fight, a discovered pistol, and the all-timer pillow-talk line “I think you’re an al-Qaeda agent.” What follows is a remarkable scene, in which two lovers take on the roles of interrogator and subject. . . . Or is it two spies taking on the roles of lovers? Homeland took a somewhat preposterous setup—a U.S. POW returns home, but he’s possibly been turned as a secret agent for a terrorist organization, and a bipolar CIA agent is the only one who can solve the mystery—and played it like a Eugene O’Neill drama. “The Weekend” was the show’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night, following the two protagonists as they desperately try to carve out some happiness by running away from the real world of Washington, D.C., intelligence agencies, and families that don’t understand them. But you can only run for so long.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Marin Ireland, as sleeper agent Aileen Morgan. In contrast to the raw emotional display by Brody and Carrie, Aileen and Saul’s road trip is a quiet storm. Ireland mostly listens and remembers—an early life in Saudi Arabia, the boy she fell in love with, the emergence of her anti-American sentiments. And she resists. Ireland gives a performance on the level of Claire Danes but with much more restraint, precisely because her character is trying to stave off Saul’s inquisition. It’s beautiful work and an excellent tonic for the histrionics in the other half of the episode.

Little Rock high school senior Leonard Cooper pulls off a come-from-behind win to seal his victory in Jeopardy!’s annual Teen Tournament, and he leaves host Alex Trebek in rare hysterics.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Watching Jeopardy! is an exercise in waiting patiently for a glitch. Will Trebek break from the usual script? Does one of the supernerds have a very unusual hobby? What about a propensity for high-stakes betting? Here, we have Leonard dunking repeatedly on his nerdy competitors; in his Final Jeopardy bet, he wagered nothing and won but not before suggesting that the answer might be “some guy in Normandy.” (It was Dwight Eisenhower.) When he briefly described the clavicle as “the neck bone,” Trebek couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“Ooohhhhhh-uuuooooohhhhhhh”: the collective groan of a studio audience recoiling in horror as Leonard wagered $18,000—all but $200 of his total score—on a late Daily Double. (He got it right, natch.) —Claire McNear

The Lyon family splits into two competing music label ventures while Lucious Lyon, in prison, records his latest musical breakthrough, “Snitch Bitch.”

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
In a single, glorious take, Lucious and two fellow inmates record “Snitch Bitch” in a utility closet. There’s no other Empire scene more representative of this show’s janky absurdity, its wonderfully tacky musical signatures, and its wild performances.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Terrence Howard. He made “Snitch Bitch”; he’s never going to fail. —Justin Charity

The eight remaining designers, in teams of two, have to create an avant-garde look based on their model’s hairdo. But there’s a twist! On the second day of the challenge, America’s Supportive Uncle Tim Gunn says they have to create a second garment, sowing disharmony.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Christian Siriano, the little dude with the haircut that was part Good Charlotte, part grackle, and part my church-camp girlfriend from ninth grade. Given the intensity with which Christian approached the challenge, I assumed he’d provide the drama, but the friendly-seeming Rami and Sweet P were at each other’s throats throughout the episode. Meanwhile, my man Christian put together a dress with a swirling appliance that he later stood under for shade during the judges’ critique—stylish and functional. Christian won the challenge and received immunity.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
Feedback from the runway show always generates great one-liners from the judges. In this episode, Michael Kors told one team that its model “looks like her ass is in her front!” But the winning line came from judge Alberta Ferretti: “It’s a little Scarlett O’Hara, but in a cheap way,” which is pretty mean to begin with but becomes absolutely hilarious in Ferretti’s thick Italian accent. —Michael Baumann

While Philip embarks on a mission he fears is an FBI sting, Elizabeth takes on a seemingly simple task—which, unbeknownst to our protagonists, is actually an FBI sting. Philip rushes to her aid, and although she's shot in the abdomen, she's ultimately rescued from Stan and his fellow badges.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
“The Colonel” is 48 minutes of delicious dramatic irony, but the moment when Claudia declares in her best reverse–Admiral Ackbar impression, "This isn't the setup," raises the hairs on audience necks and sets off a gripping and extended climax.

What is the most memorable line of this episode?
"Come home," Elizabeth murmurs in Russian, welcoming Philip back into her personal life after a midseason marital spat. As this spring's series finale proved, The Americans was at its best and most narratively propulsive when the couple was united and facing off against Stan, and this touching moment returns that dynamic and puts a bow on a memorable first season. —Zach Kram

Typically, The Bachelor ends when the Bachelor proposes, so something was clearly up when Arie got down on a knee in front of Becca with about 40 minutes remaining in the season finale. Then we watched as Arie lured an unsuspecting Becca to a camera-filled house to tell her he was changing his mind, and would rather marry runner-up Lauren. On a show of televised proposals and regularly scheduled breakups, the end of Arie and Becca was stunning.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
When Arie asked Becca to come to Los Angeles, everything seemed normal to her because the engaged couple from The Bachelor does frequently get put up in a house for “happy couple’s weekends”—so the two can spend time together in private without America finding out who won the show. The only thing amiss this time was that there were cameras in the “happy couple” house, because Arie had agreed to dump his fiancée on national TV.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
The Bachelor is famous for intense edits that strip most semblance of “reality” from the reality TV. But Arie and Becca’s entire breakup sequence was totally unedited—just a split screen of two raw feeds from cameras filming the disengagement. It was so raw it almost felt wrong to watch it. The two sometimes sat without talking for up to 30 seconds at a time, making each second of silence feel heavier than the last. —Rodger Sherman

After the previous episode’s 45-minute tracking shot, Elliot races against the clock to stop the Dark Army from blowing up Evil Corp’s New York recovery building and all the people within it.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“I believe the appropriate term is ‘hanging brain.’” Of all the ways Mr. Robot has cleverly tried to incorporate contemporary political figures during its run, Zhang and Price’s discussion of Donald Trump’s ill-fitting swim trunks is the most memorable.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Mr. Robot is one of the most visually distinct TV shows ever, so almost every shot has the potential to be iconic. But the first half of Season 3 was a battle between Elliot and Mr. Robot, and in this episode the battle becomes physical, as Elliot flings himself around hallways and computer labs alternatively trying to stop the explosion and stop himself from stopping the explosion. It’s great work by Rami Malek, great writing, great direction, great cinematography, and it’s great despite being derivative of Fight Club—really, a microcosm for the series as a whole. —Michael Baumann

Also known as the “New York is my boyfriend” episode: Charlotte read in a ladies’ magazine that women get two great loves per lifetime, but a wild Fleet Week convinces Carrie she has only one—the city. Also, the future governor of New York (Cynthia Nixon) bemoans her gigantic, breast-feeding nipples.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
When a (female) cop—played by Chandra Wilson!—tries to stop Samantha from papering a neighborhood with anti-Richard flyers, she explains, “This man said he loved me and I caught him eating another woman’s pussy.” The cop’s response? “Carry on, ma’am.”

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
This was the first episode to be filmed after 9/11, a cataclysm that Sex and the City wisely declined to fold into its frothy, fizzy world but still managed to address in poignant, evocative fashion. The real New York City rose to the occasion, so the quintessential New York City show did, too. —Alison Herman

After the weekly elimination challenge, a debaucherous, drunken evening turns dark for the cheftestants. Two of the five shave their heads and decide that outcast Marcel should join in the fun—whether he wants to or not. While Marcel mercifully keeps his (very) full head of hair, the ensuing assault leads head judge Tom Colicchio to dismiss Chef Cliff the next morning.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Grainy camcorder footage shot by Chef Ilan (the idiocy is strong throughout this episode, but never stronger than when the chefs self-incriminate by filming themselves) shows a sleeping Marcel being hauled to the ground, pinned, and wrestled into a half nelson by Cliff, who’s easily twice his size. But the most iconic shot of the episode comes later on at Judge’s Table: Padma Lakshmi’s jaw gapes open and Gail Simmons facepalms as newly bald chefs Ilan and Elia walk into the room.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
If Colicchio had his way, the competition would have stopped here—but Bravo’s producers and legal department shut him down. From Tom’s blog post on Bravo: “Any one of [the chefs] could have spoken up and said, ‘This isn't cool, guys. Knock it off.’ But they didn't, so as far as I was concerned they were all to blame and I was ready to send the lot of them home and let Marcel win by default. For the first time all season, the Producers stepped in with a veto.” —Rubie Edmondson

Shaken to the core by the havoc he’s caused those around him, BoJack rips his old costar Sarah Lynn out of sobriety for a weeks-long bender that sends them across the country and into the deepest pits of despair. In a show filled with dark moments, it doesn’t get much bleaker than this.

Who stole the episode, and why?
For much of the show’s run, Sarah Lynn is the archetypal former child star turned diva. She had a pop music career, a handful of disastrous relationships with celebrities, and an unfortunate series of drug addictions. In this episode, she becomes a person. We see her deepest fears. And after she misses what should have been the greatest moment of her professional life, we see her pass away.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
Wanting to console Sarah Lynn after watching her Oscar victory from a dingy motel room, BoJack suggests they go to the planetarium. Even the thought of visiting the dome—Sarah Lynn loves domes—pulls her out of a spiral. As the projections of stars and galaxies pepper the wall, she yawns, and leans on her companion. “I want to be an architect,” she says. They’re the final words she ever speaks. —Shaker Samman

Sydney, disguised as a call girl, infiltrates a private plane in order to get important information on SD-6. She and her father are discovered as double agents by an SD-6 leader, and the CIA storms the headquarters and rescues Jack from torture. Sydney and Vaughn finally kiss, and Francie is revealed to have been murdered by a doppelgänger.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
It’s a tie between Sydney and Vaughn’s first kiss—so long in the making!—and the reveal that HOLY SHIT FRANCIE IS DEAD; WHO IS WEARING FRANCIE’S FACE?!?!

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
“Phase One” aired directly after the Super Bowl in 2003, and its opening scene, of Jennifer Garner strutting in lingerie, set to “Back in Black,” was a blatant yet effective ploy to keep audiences glued to their televisions. —Kate Halliwell

Robin refuses to go to the mall and won’t tell the group why, leaving Barney and Marshall to wildly theorize. They make a Slap Bet: Marshall thinks Robin was previously married; Barney guesses she was a Canadian porn star. Eventually, Robin’s darkest secret is revealed: She was a teenage pop star in Canada, alias Robin Sparkles.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
The Robin Sparkles reveal. Robin prefaces the video with a disclaimer: “I was young, I didn’t know any better. It started out as an innocent modeling job!” And when the group crowds around Barney’s laptop to watch the incriminating video on Myspace, the first 10 seconds look just like a stereotypical porno. Barney hits pause to spare Robin’s dignity and delivers a victory slap to Marshall. But when Robin hits play again, the fake-out is revealed: The "porno" is the opening to the music video for her hit single, “Let’s Go to the Mall.” In retribution for Barney’s unjust slap, Slap Bet Commissioner Lily awards Marshall five slaps to be used for eternity (and sets up a running gag throughout the series).

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“Come on Jessica, come on Tori / Let's go to the mall, you won't be sorry / Put on your jelly bracelets / And your cool graffiti coat / At the mall, having fun is what it's all about!” (Yes, this all rhymes.) —Rubie Edmondson

It’s Jeffrey Garten’s birthday, but he doesn’t want a party or cake. So Ina makes him a fabulous lunch—a Greek meze platter and raspberry-orange trifles—to eat in a historic East Hampton home.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
When Jeffrey, sitting at a tastefully decorated table in an 18th-century house, tells his wife that it’s the best birthday lunch he’s ever had. He says this on every episode, about every meal, and he means it every time. Show me a better marriage on television. 

Who stole the episode, and why?
Credit where credit is due: Ina makes the hummus, spinach pie, and orange pound cake all from scratch, and the end result is a signature elegant, unfussy meal from television’s best home cook. But no homemade treat can outshine Ina’s immaculate kitchen, the supporting star of Barefoot Contessa for 16 years running: that counter space! —Amanda Dobbins

After a tantalizing J.Crew catalog from 1998 and an entire season of anticipation, Joey and Pacey finally and literally sail off into the sunset aboard Pacey’s refurbished boat, True Love. The entire course of the show was changed when TPTB acknowledged that Pacey was The One. OTP was not in the parlance yet, but the concept was born.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
Teen TV, particularly the programming on The WB, required a suspension of disbelief—the plot holes and absurdities throughout the history of the genre are too abundant to recount—and even with a high tolerance for conceits that ignore realism, Dawson’s Creek pushed the boundaries. On this episode, Joey Potter furiously runs down to the Capeside marina to catch Pacey Witter before he sets sail for the summer. She leaves Dawson’s parents’ wedding, presumably makes a stop at home to change into a boho chic top and dark jeans, and then somehow arrives moments before Pacey disembarks. She yells: Pacey! Pacey! Pacey!

She goes on to deliver one of the great saccharine monologues of all time. “I think I’m in love with you … I know,” she tells Pacey. “I've known it since the moment you kissed me and maybe even before that. And scary as it is, I don't want to deny it anymore, Pacey. I don't want to run from it, and I don't want to let it run from me.” She wins him over and asks to come on the boat. He accepts, she climbs aboard, and they leave. At the age of 17, Joey goes on a summer-long sailing trip without any luggage, without any toiletries, without a cell phone (because it’s 2000), and without confirming her whereabouts to her older sister/legal guardian. But who cares! The Joey-and-Pacey love story is a defining tale for a generation of women who learned too late that the only thing more unrealistic than Joey’s ability to go off the grid was the character of Pacey. He was the perfect boyfriend that only a WB show could conjure.

“True Love” was a triumph in neatly tying up a 23-episode arc, in challenging devoted viewers to come along for an absurd ride, and in redefining the central relationship three seasons in. The episode accomplished it all. Just ask any 30-something woman.

Who stole this episode, and why?
The real Dawson’s heads remember this episode for “Days Like These” by Janis Ian playing as Joey and Pacey sail away. Or maybe there’s a contingent still giggling at the meta scene near the end when Jack, Jen, and Andie refuse to let Dawson wallow on his own. Those are important moments.

But most internet denizens know this episode for the now-infamous GIF Crying Dawson. Joey finds the courage to go after Pacey only after a devastated Dawson sends her away. They stand on the dock of the eponymous creek, and Dawson heart-wrenchingly acknowledges that Joey has made her choice, she just hasn’t acted on it. Like her aforementioned love-declaring monologue, this was another all-timer, but in the form of the archetypical display of heartbreak. Thankfully, the internet remembered this moment in GIF form a few years ago. Crying Dawson was revived and immortalized in just a few frames. —Juliet Litman

In 25 minutes, “Michael’s Gambit” redefined what viewers thought this show was about—and what a modern sitcom can be. Instantly moving into the TV-twist pantheon, it stunned while simultaneously tracking completely, opening a mystery box we didn’t know existed while remaining true to the comedy’s driving force: human connection.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Holy mother-forking shirt balls, can there be any doubt about it? Eleanor’s Bad Place epiphany is the stuff of instant TV legend, a moment that transcends meme-dom to serve as shorthand for brilliance itself: “We’re already here. This is the Bad Place.” With those five words, Eleanor upended everything viewers thought they understood about the show they were watching. But Michael’s ensuing “Oh, man! I can’t believe you figured it out! Oh, God. You ruined everything, you know that?” couldn’t be further from the truth. Far from ruining everything, Eleanor—and her real-life creators—proved that it’s still possible, in the digital era of sleuthing and spoilers, to truly stun the masses. And, more importantly, that it’s possible to do so in a way that delights, energizes, and satisfies rather than fatally burdening a show with the impossible weight of its own ambition and mythology.

In one of the episode’s brilliantly placed strategic flashbacks to Michael’s architect origin story, he hits a fellow demon and viewers alike with this assessment of what it’s like to craft an afterlife: “Do you ever get the feeling we could be doing it all … differently? I mean, it’s always the same: We get the names, come up with the design, they arrive, we move on to the next one. We never even get to be there, to see how fun it is.” That assessment simultaneously serves as metacommentary for the art form of television itself: With Eleanor’s revelation, The Good Place did it differently. And we all got to live in TV heaven as a result.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
Delightfully, viewers weren’t the only ones blown into their fro-yo by Eleanor’s discovery: The bulk of the cast didn’t know the twist was coming, either. As Entertainment Weekly outlined, creator Michael Schur only informed Ted Danson (Michael) and Kristen Bell (Eleanor) in advance. T.M. Scanlon’s book What We Owe to Each Other is basically a major character on the show, and as Schur told EW, he grappled with his decision in philosophy book terms: “In a show about ethics and morality, I did stop and check in with myself every once in a while, like, ‘What is the ethics of this?’ and I decided it wasn’t really an ethical issue. It was a creative issue and that made me feel better about the decision.” In a move that would make Eleanor proud, Bell filmed her castmates learning about the twist. She shared the video with EW for our collective delight and told the publication, “I wanted to see everyone’s unique ability to digest this betrayal.” No word on whether everyone processed the news over shrimp and margaritas. —Mallory Rubin

In the rare Girls episode to work as a full-ensemble romp rather than a stand-alone chamber piece, Hannah gets HPV, Marnie flirts with a bad artist, Jessa babysits, and Shoshanna watches a crappy game show. It’s the strongest argument for Girls as the whiny, broke, Brooklyn-based Sex and the City.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Hannah, the consummate self-absorbed, oversharing millennial, obsessively drafting and redrafting a tweet about having an STD to Robyn’s “Dancing on My Own.” Grace note: She has 26 followers.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
"It was nice to see you. Your dad is gay." —Alison Herman

Johnny Knoxville attempts to don a beard made of leeches; Knoxville and Spike Jonze do their trademark “old people making mischief” routine; and Dave England eats cheese, an onion, and a raw egg, then vomits it all up, then makes an omelet out of it—which he then eats.

Who stole the episode, and why?
It’s Spike Jonze in old-person makeup trying to shoplift a pair of sunglasses—because he literally stole in the episode.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
In 2001, a Connecticut teen, inspired by Jackass, set himself on fire. Joe Lieberman, the then-senator from Connecticut and a former candidate for vice president, denounced the show. “Ideally, I would encourage you to either cancel this exploitative and degrading show or eliminate the stunts that could be dangerous if imitated by children,” he said.

MTV cracked down. The network’s increased vigilance was felt in the production of the “Vomlet” sketch. “Now you have to heat the omelet to this degree, and you have to be in Hazmat suits,” Knoxville recalled in 2010. “At first we were like, ‘What? Fuck that. We’re not gonna get in Hazmat suits.’ It just sucked the funny right out of it.” He quit midseason, effectively ending the show. —Jason Concepcion

Better Call Saul is a slow burn, and this episode really simmers: When Chuck tries to get Jimmy disbarred for sabotaging his work for a former client, both brothers pull out all the stops to win. It’s brutal, arresting TV. And none of the characters are the same after it.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Michael McKean, hands down. His character can be hard to root for, thanks to his holier-than-thou demeanor, but this time, Chuck’s right, full stop: Jimmy sabotaged him to help Kim. But when Jimmy uses Chuck’s mental illness against him, he’s helpless. All the old frustrations, jealousies, and outrages burst out, and Chuck winds up humiliated in front of colleagues and the ex-wife he clearly still loves.

What is this episode’s most iconic moment?
There are so many, but it has to be the moment right after Chuck realizes his rant against Jimmy has totally lost the room; when one of the bar members won’t even look at him; when his ex-wife puts her hand over her eyes and purses her lips. The courtroom falls silent, and we just see Chuck’s face—and then a truck drives by outside. It’s such a crushing moment, soundtracked by such a banal thing (one that’s easy to miss if you’re not listening carefully). And it feels real. —Jack McCluskey

The Leftovers sends Kevin Garvey to what appears to be purgatory, in the form of a high-end hotel. Regardless of whether or not Kevin has messianic qualities, “International Assassin” is far and away the strangest and most engrossing turn in the show since its initial rapture.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
If we’re being honest: Justin Theroux crawling out of a bathtub butt naked.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Patti Levin, played by a flawless Ann Dowd. It’s really hard to empathize with the leader of the Guilty Remnant who led a brutal group stoning in Season 1, but through Kevin’s spiritual journey in “International Assassin,” we also learn about Patti’s: how she was abused for most of her life by her husband and how she found strength in silence while going up against a contestant in Jeopardy!—which is a very Leftovers way to have an existential breakthrough. —Miles Surrey

Where’s Waldo on acid.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
It’s whenever you realized the writers were just going to keep introducing more characters. Cousin Nicky, Mr. Beauregard, Photography Raptor, Frankenstein‘s Monster, Pencilvester, Ghost in a Jar, Tinkles, Reverse Giraffe, Sleepy Gary … the list goes on. By the time Rick remembers the barbecue, it becomes clear that the writers just emptied their imaginations onto the screen.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Longtime family friend Mr. Poopybutthole, who indirectly delivers the most devastating line of Season 2: “He told me to tell you he’s sorry you didn’t have any bad memories of him.” Also, his name is Mr. Poopybutthole. —Danny Heifetz

Richard and Co. are about to lose the tech startup competition, and their entrepreneurial dreams are about to dissolve, when a dejected conversation about hypothetical audience masturbation inspires Richard to redo his entire algorithm. It works! Victory ensues; so do plenty of laughs.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
An actual—well, "actual"—research paper entitled "Optimal Tip-to-Tip Efficiency: A model for male audience stimulation," authored by Dinesh and Gilfoyle, exists. It includes descriptive diagrams. It includes sections such as "Multiple Stimulation" and "Gratification Threshold." It includes an abstract that concludes that "naive unsorted schemes have increasingly flaccid performance." This episode is a treasure.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
The full 30 minutes are funny, but there's only one reason to remember this specific Silicon Valley episode. It's the scene that gives "Optimal Tip-to-Tip Efficiency" its name. It's a moment of magic, every new joking line building toward a—forgive me—comedic climax. —Zach Kram

Johnny Bananas secured his place as a reality-TV villain for the ages by winning The Challenge with his partner, Sarah … and then choosing to take all $275,000 of the prize winnings for himself, leaving her with nothing. This was as stunning and devastating as on-air betrayals come. Et tu, Bananas?

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
The drama surrounding Bananas’s betrayal didn’t end with the episode’s air date. After the final was broadcast, Susie Meister—a former Challenge cast member who hosts a podcast with Sarah—accused Bananas of cheating by using Adderall to stay awake during a critical moment of the challenge. Johnny later denied it.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
This episode makes the list exclusively because of its iconic moment. It’s no secret that Challenge finales are typically boring. The show is a vehicle to display its participants’ politicking, partying, and awful-to-moderately-above-average athleticism; the finals tend to spotlight solely the latter.

However, with one twist—placing competitors in teams of two, with the partner on each squad who fared better in the final given the option of splitting the prize money or keeping it—MTV flipped that notion on its head. The second- and third-place finishers divvied up $50,000 and $25,000, respectively. And then Johnny went full Judas: “I need to look after myself and invest in my future, so I’m gonna go ahead and take the money and run.”

Bananas’s move on an Argentinian mountaintop was a revolutionary moment of nationally televised backstabbing. This was as naked an expression of greed and callousness as I can remember. It made me gasp, feel nauseous, and start pacing around in circles. That’s a sign of good TV! —Ben Glicksman

In the show’s series finale, we see the futures of the Pawnee Parks Department gang, told through a series of flash-forwards as they fix a broken swing on their last day in town.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Ben and Leslie, both wearing flag pins and surrounded by Secret Service agents, standing side by side at Jerry’s funeral. It’s implied that at least one of them became president of the United States, and since Ben was a congressman and Leslie governor of Indiana, it could plausibly have been either one.

But Jerry’s flash-forward also illustrates the absurd warmheartedness that made Parks and Rec so special. The show’s spiritual predecessor, The Office, was cynical and frequently cruel—in that show, we’d be laughing at Jerry unsympathetically. But Jerry was so overwhelmingly kind and happy that he was a safe target for the kind of workplace shenanigans that would have driven Dwight Schrute to institutionalization. No matter what happened, Jerry loved his work and his family, and by the time he died, at age 100, after 10 terms as mayor of Pawnee, he’d lived a life anyone would envy. Parks and Rec was funny, and silly, and frequently pointed, but more than anything it was warmhearted, and that quality above all others made it a special show to spend 22 minutes with each week.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
The last season of Parks and Rec was a master class in how to tell a story set in the near future—subtle tweaks to costuming, technology, and dialogue created a world similar to but distinct from our own and offered opportunities for a near-Airplane-level pace of one-liners and background jokes. The show’s later seasons, and the cult following they inspired, were proof of concept for the Michael Schur Extended Universe (Brooklyn Nine-Nine and The Good Place), a series of silly, colorful half-hour comedies about people who love each other—and aim to inspire us all to become just a little bit better. —Michael Baumann

Dexter stalks the Trinity Killer (John Lithgow), who knows Dexter’s real name. Our hero kills Trinity (finally) with a framing hammer and decides he’s done murdering. But then, Trinity gets the last laugh: Dexter arrives home to find his wife, Rita, dead in their bathtub.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Rita and Dexter's baby, Harrison, crying in a pool of blood in the bathroom perfectly echoes young Dexter, who was deserted in a shipping container after he and his brother watched their mom get slaughtered with a chainsaw. As much pain as Rita’s death may have caused Dexter, the lingering image in his conscience—and ours—is his baby boy, motherless, blood soaked, and forever broken.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
A telling quote that sums up not only the episode but also the show’s confusing expectations comes from Julie Benz, who played Rita. She was afraid viewers wouldn’t care about “The Getaway”: “I think I thought that they just thought [Rita] was expendable, and I was afraid that the audience was just going to go, ‘Oh, finally! Finally she’s gone!’” That, of course, didn’t happen—the gut-churning episode resonated more than anything else in the series. It was just everything after this episode that the cast and crew should’ve been worried about—like, uh, Deb’s attraction to Dex and that whole lumberjack thing. —Julie Kliegman

On September 20, 2001, The Daily Show kicked off with a devastated and resilient Jon Stewart delivering perhaps the greatest Serious Talk-Show-Host Monologue in history, sniffles and choked-up pauses and all. The show-ending Moment of Zen was a puppy.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
The rest of the episode is carefree and disposable clips from past episodes, the better to throw Stewart’s introductory nine-minute monologue into stark relief. His teary-eyed optimism—that the United States will truly unite in the aftermath of the 9/11 terror attacks, finally realizing Martin Luther King’s dream—has not aged well. But it is still striking and visceral and admirable all the same.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
"I wanted to tell you why I grieve. [Chokes up.] But why I don’t despair." —Rob Harvilla

Benson (Mariska Hargitay) gets a showcase episode when she fights to find an abducted, abused little girl. At its best, Law & Order: SVU is a well-acted, well-oiled thriller of the week, and “911” demonstrates what the long-running series looks like when it’s firing on all especially heinous cylinders.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
When Benson turns down her date to stay and work—in a body-skimming gown. True dedication!

Who stole the episode, and why?
This is Mariska Hargitay’s episode. In 2006, she finally won an Emmy for her performance as Benson, for the “911” episode, and it was deserved. The premise is as soapy as ever, but Hargitay plays Benson’s escalating panic with nuance. The victim does not appear on-screen until the end of the episode, but Hargitay sells the emergency. —Kate Knibbs

Civilization is not always made by the civilized. The modern world is coming for the frontier, specifically the borderline lawless mining town of Deadwood, in the form of a military presence and impending recognition as a U.S. territory. A new world will be carved out of the mud, but before that can happen, some debts have to be settled and some sides need to be taken.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Ian McShane’s Al Swearengen mercy-killing the Reverend Smith. Doc Cochran badgers and cajoles Swearengen into providing hospice out of his saloon/brothel for the infirm man of the cloth. As the doctor prays to a god that seems largely absent from Deadwood and recounts the terrors of Civil War battlefields still fresh in his memory, a strange kind of angel answers his call.

Who stole the episode, and why?
This one belongs to McShane, and if not him it’s Timothy Olyphant, whose Seth Bullock character returns to the law enforcement role that he left behind in the first episode of the series. But if there is a third-party candidate for this episode, it’s Titus Welliver as the bagman/emissary/hitman Silas Adams. This is what doing a lot with a little looks like. Earlier in the episode, Swearengen questions Adams’s loyalty, but he eventually proves it in a cold-blooded way, staring right into Swearengen’s eyes in a way that even someone as cruel as Al must appreciate. —Chris Ryan

The Crawleys narrowly avoid the scandal of the century after the visiting Turkish diplomat Kemal Pamuk keels over in Lady Mary’s bed. In two considerably less sensational subplots, Gwen aspires to leave the service and become a secretary, and Mr. Bates tries to correct his limp with a leg straightener/medieval torture device.

Who stole the episode, and why?
The ravishing foreigner who stole Lady Mary’s heart also stole this especially soap opera–esque episode. Mary, who tells her habitually neglected sister Edith that she doesn’t read the papers because she’s “too busy living a life,” almost ends up in the papers herself on account of her long-repressed and apparently powerful bedroom abilities. Mr. Pamuk, who made the normally impassive and imperious Mary blush and twist her necklace like a besotted schoolgirl, died doing what he loved, or at least what he lusted after. In the process of exploring Mary’s upstairs and downstairs, he suffered a stroke or a heart attack, forcing Mary and accomplices Anna and Lady Crawley to carry his corpse back to his bedroom to preserve Mary’s social standing.

“Of course it would happen to a foreigner—it’s typical,” the dowager says. “No Englishman would dream of dying in someone else’s house, especially someone they didn’t even know.” Somehow, Julian Fellowes strikes a deft balance between Agatha Christie and P.G. Wodehouse, managing to make the experience seem traumatic for Mary while also inviting us viewers to titter all we want.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
It’s a tie between two Pamuk come-ons: “The next time you feel a twinge you must come to Istanbul,” and “Sometimes we must endure a little pain in order to achieve satisfaction.” Let’s hope his satisfaction was worth it.

After the boys buy ninja weapons at a county fair, they’re transformed from schlubby paper-animated fourth-graders to chiseled anime assassins (except Cartman, who’s even schlubbier). They must fight the dastardly Professor Chaos, the super-lame Craig, and the sexual anxiety of South Park’s parents all in one episode.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“Let’s Fighting Love,” the ass-kicking chorus of the song that plays as the boys take on Craig, Token, and others in a fight to the (pretend) death. The way this episode cuts between the boys’ vision of themselves as heroic fighters and their actual mundane horseplay perfectly captures the joy of being kids with boundless imaginations. The episode’s commitment to the anime theme, down to a “last time on Dragon Ball Z”–style recap after a commercial break, only makes it more true to the childlike spirit. Try to convince a 10-year-old with deadly Japanese weapons that he’s not a ninja, and you may end up with a shuriken to the eye (poor Butters).

Who stole the episode, and why?
Bulrog, Cartman’s ninja alter ego, who wants to rid the world of hippies and does that annoying thing where you’re playing superheroes and one kid decides he’s going to have five different powers (Bulrog: “I have the power to have all the powers I want”). After the boys impale Butters with a shuriken and seem destined to be grounded, Bulrog bails them out by using his invisibility power to sneak across stage at the county fair auction, naked. The town is much more scandalized by Cartman’s dangling nunchuck than the fact that Butters was left for dead in a discarded oven, bleeding profusely from his eye socket. It wouldn’t be South Park without at least a sprinkling of social commentary, but “Good Times With Weapons” is great because the kids are allowed to be kids the entire time, rather than becoming cynical mouthpieces for show creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone. —Victor Luckerson

Lauren attends an event that turns awkward when Heidi rolls up. Heidi and Lauren are amid a season-long conflict over whether the former spread a rumor that Lauren and her ex had made a sex tape. Heidi visits Lauren to apologize for Spencer (who has copped to starting the rumor), which is when Lauren tells her onetime best friend …

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“I want to forgive you, and I want to forget you.” With those words, a teary but resolute Lauren Conrad launched an iconic GIF in exchange for losing one friendship. Before think pieces on female friendships and the attendant breakups were in vogue, The Hills provided the best think piece fodder of all.

Who stole the episode, and why?
The crucial conversation featured Lauren and Heidi, but Spencer’s villainy was at the heart of the episode. In fact, his relationship with Heidi hijacked the whole show—albeit in a way that made it more entertaining and emotional—and its legacy to this day. Whitney had a fun but short-lived run on The City, Lauren designs pants for Kohl’s, and Audrina almost appeared in Scary Movie 5, but it’s Speidi who have captivated us for the long haul. Blame the crystals. —Julie Kliegman

Michael Phelps hosted, and Lil Wayne performed “Lollipop,” but all you really need to know is: Sarah Palin, as played by Tina Fey, can see Russia from her house.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
In 2012, a Public Opinions Quarterly paper found that watching this six-minute opening monologue—in which Tina Fey leans into her remarkable physical resemblance to Sarah Palin, and then eviscerates her—had a measurable effect in dissuading Republicans and independents from voting McCain-Palin. In other words, “I can see Russia from my house” helped elect Barack Obama.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
In many ways, the Tina Fey effect has made for a weaker Saturday Night Live: The show now relies on high-profile cameos for increasingly ineffective political sketches. But this episode also features solid sketch work from Bill Hader, Amy Poehler, Andy Samberg, Jason Sudeikis, Will Forte, Fred Armisen, and Kristen Wiig, who would move on to Barry, Parks and Recreation, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, 30 Rock, The Last Man on Earth, Portlandia, and an upcoming show on Apple. That’s quite a farm team for television as we know it. —Amanda Dobbins

“The jungle is Eden,” Sir David Attenborough says at the beginning of the episode. He’s right. Leopards wrestle caiman, lizards do stunts from Mission: Impossible, and river dolphins hunt in the rainforest. (Not in the river. In the forest.)

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
A 300-pound jaguar leaps into the Amazon River and disappears beneath the water. “He’s become a killer of killers,” Attenborough narrates as the jaguar emerges with its jaws clenched around a caiman’s face, and then drags the 10-foot-long prehistoric monster out of the water and into the jungle. Lions are cowards. Jaguars rule the jungle.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
The Araguaian river dolphin had never been filmed on camera before, and for good reason. To find it, the Planet Earth crew scoured 400,000 square kilometers of flooded, impenetrable rainforest while searching in water so murky that the dolphins living there are literally blind. Poisonous spiders and colonies of red ants walking on water threatened to board their boat. A torrential rainstorm nearly flooded their boat after the motor died. When they were on dry land, they were confined to a hut on an island the size of a McDonald’s. After five weeks, they finally captured the dolphin they had been trailing on camera—and learned it was actually five dolphins. Nature, man. —Danny Heifetz

In The Night Of’s premiere, we’re given a dark and dreamy view of the long, hot, and ultimately bloody evening that Naz (Riz Ahmed) will spend the rest of the series attempting to explain; like Naz, we’re not given any answers about those last, dizzy hours in the brownstone. The Night Of didn't invent anthologies, but it’s fair to credit its success with helping propel the form to its current heights.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Naz wakes up, bleary and hungover, in the kitchen belonging to the woman with whom he spent the previous night. Then he finds blood. Then a body. And then a knife, which he takes with him in a panic. You follow Naz through his thought process. He couldn't have done this. Could he?

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
It’s hard to watch John Turturro’s wry, weary, eczema-bedeviled performance as Naz’s down-on-his-luck lawyer, John Stone, and not wonder what might have been. James Gandolfini was originally set to play Stone; he had already filmed the pilot when he died of a heart attack at age 51, one month after HBO picked up the show as a limited series. Robert De Niro was then set to take over the role, before giving it up to Turturro after scheduling conflicts intervened. Turturro’s Stone was instantly iconic. He’s an exhausted veteran of New York’s unfair and unfeeling legal system who serves as the show’s reluctant heart, but it’s also a distinctly Turturro take on the role. Wondering where Gandolfini would have taken the character is a futile exercise, but the tragedy of the actor’s death still looms over the final product. —Claire McNear

Though Ashton Kutcher’s influential celebrity prank show, Punk’d, would span many seasons, it never quite surpassed its first episode. First, Kutcher tells a 17-year-old Frankie Muniz (!) that a valet has stolen his Porsche Speedster (!!!). But that’s just the warm-up for the main event: making Justin Timberlake weep by convincing him that his house and all his valuables have been repossessed by the government. Cry me a river, indeed.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
Punk’d punctured the sheen of celebrity at a time when stars were still a few steps removed from the rest of us. It debuted in 2003, long before social media created at least the illusion that celebrities were just like us. Punk’d was the precursor to the playfulness of the modern TV talk show (from Ellen scaring people to Jimmy Fallon’s star-studded parlor games), though the show still has considerably more bite than the ones it influenced.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
Dax Shepard: “The dogs are put in a government pound and they’ll be taken care of.”

Justin Timberlake: “You took my dogs?” —Lindsay Zoladz

For once, the gang doesn’t have any schemes to attend to, and so they unearth a board game they invented back in the day that involves emotional battery, physical violence, and a ton of alcohol consumption.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Frank (Danny DeVito) did. Not only does Frank function as an avatar for the audience, asking question after question and allowing the gang to explain the rules of Chardee MacDennis to everyone watching, but he also: eats the ingredients of a cake, nails Dennis’s hand with a dart, is briefly caged in a dog kennel, and figures out that Dennis and Dee have been cheating at the game for years. Mac and Charlie still lose, but they got close because of Frank’s wherewithal (and raw-egg-eating ability).

What is the most memorable line from the episode?
The line “Put my cage on the bar so I can see!” from Frank is, even without context, one of the funniest of the series. That Dennis responds by yelling, “Shut up, dog!,” while throwing beer in Frank’s face is almost as good. —Andrew Gruttadaro

A year before Lost alienated its fan base with a polarizing finale, Battlestar Galactica … did the same thing! Like Lost, the multipart Battlestar Galactica finale, “Daybreak,” didn’t offer up all the answers fans were seeking, but what’s wrong with letting some of the mystery be? So say we all (... but not really).

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Starbuck and Lee’s goodbye—if that even was Starbuck to begin with. (Long story short: She sacrificed herself and had a Christ-like resurrection, and then vanished into thin air.) Given Battlestar Galactica’s heavy religious undertones, the Starbuck mystery is still fiercely debated—even actress Katee Sackhoff doesn’t have a firm stance on what, exactly, she was by the end of the series. For “Daybreak” detractors, this is lighter fluid; for fans, it’s a beautifully cryptic coda.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
2007, 2009, 2010—the years of the somewhat contentious finales for The Sopranos, Battlestar Galactica, and Lost, respectively. All ended ambiguously, and all created controversy. Evidently, some corners of TV fandom really want answers to all the mysteries a show presents, and the outcry against finales like “Daybreak” shaped how showrunners would approach endings in the years to come. —Miles Surrey

Israel blockades Lebanon and bombs the nation’s major airport to spite Hezbollah. Bourdain and his crew must drop their meze and flee Beirut.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Anthony Bourdain’s Beirut special, documenting the outbreak of the 2006 war between Hezbollah and Israel, was the defining example of Bourdain’s outlook on food tourism. He and his crew might have reacted to the new war by cutting their production short and revisiting the city’s delicious hot spots at a more favorable time, but instead Bourdain turned his cameras on the city and recorded all the urgency and agony for posterity. Sure, the TV crew’s evacuation makes for some thrilling, shaky-cam television, but the episode is no stunt; Bourdain meant to present Beirut as a full, complicated city, animated by paradoxes of war and peace. In Bourdain’s outlook, no nation is simply a playground, no citizen’s life and identity can be reduced to only their cuisine. In this episode, Bourdain learned — and taught — the hard way. There’s no episode on this list that is as palpably ambitious.

What is the most memorable line of the episode?
"Look at us in these scenes. We're sitting around a pool. We’re sitting around in bathing suits, getting tan, you know? Watching a war. If there's a single metaphor in this entire experience, you know, that's probably it. Not a flattering one."

"Every time we turn on the news, the news is worse. The only thing we saw of any official American reaction was that little clip they kept showing, over and over, of our president eating a buttered roll while Tony Blair tried to get his attention. I cannot tell you how shattering that was." —Justin Charity

The plan? Help an amateur Bill Gates impersonator reconnect with his long-lost love. Like so many of Nathan Fielder’s well-meaning but harebrained schemes, the one in “Finding Frances” began as a search for absurdist, deadpan comedy. But what he ended up creating was a feature-length meditation on love, connection, and the banal tragedy of the American dream.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Maci the escort is so sweetly herself that the viewer—and maybe even Fielder himself—can’t help falling in love with her.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
Oscar-winning documentarian Errol Morris wrote a mash note to “Finding Frances” for The New Yorker shortly after it aired, calling it “my new favorite exploration of love.” The rarely effusive Fielder responded to a Morris tweet: “I can’t believe this I love you this made my year.” —Lindsay Zoladz

Buffy the Vampire Slayer spared no expense with its musical episode, which is packed with over 30 minutes of original songs sung by the cast and three-time Tony winner and guest star Hinton Battle. It’s as glorious and campy as it sounds.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
Alyson Hannigan was so afraid of singing that she begged Joss Whedon to give her as little to do as possible. In the end, Hannigan only has two solo verses in the entire episode, one of which is “I think this line’s mostly filler.”

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
There are a ton of song-and-dance-themed puns in this episode, but the best two come from Giles (Anthony Head). The first is when he explains that he was able to investigate a mysteriously burned corpse because the cops were taking “witness arias.” The second is later on, when Buffy is battling the demon’s minions midsong, and Giles says, “She needs backup” … meaning backup dancers. —Kate Halliwell

“Succession” features a B plot about Tracy Jordan creating a porn video game before answering the question “Salieri?” with, “No thank you, I already ate,” as a segway to a half-hour Amadeus parody actually scored by Mozart. A more 30 Rock sentence has never been uttered.

Who stole the episode, and why?
We’d seen plenty of Dr. Leo Spaceman by this point in the show’s run, but he hadn’t owned an entire episode until now. Maybe it’s the sprint down the hallway in a cape before pausing for a brief moment at the vending machine, or the 411 call for “New York? Diabetes repair, I guess,” but Chris Parnell took over “Succession” in the same way he often would for the rest of the series.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“Well, it’s business drunk. It’s like rich drunk. Either way, it’s legal to drive.” Jack explaining the finer points of business drinking to Liz as she begins her climb up the corporate ladder packs their friendship into a single joke. It also brought “business drunk” into actual conversation, and taught us all to be careful what you wear when business drinking. Because you risk getting business sick all over it. —Robert Mays

Stassi snaps after discovering that her on-again, off-again boyfriend and human STD Jax banged their friend Kristen on the couch during the time when Kristen was also like, “You and Jax should get back together!” It all culminates with Stassi cracking the iconic backhand slap across Kristen’s face.

What is the most memorable line of this episode?
“I want to wrap a dildo in acid and give it to Kristen as a present so it tears out her insides.”

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Stassi slapping Kristen, duh. I mean, she really got her. It sounded like a raw steak falling on the ground. The effects of the slap, meanwhile, still reverberate across the show. —Jason Concepcion

In an Office-esque documentary, Catherine Meyer captures the aftermath of her mother’s presidential election and her own budding romance with Secret Service agent Marjorie Palmiotti.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
Gary: My bowling coach used to say a tie was like kissing your sister.

Selina: Yeah, well this feels like my sister took a shit on my chest.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
A brief segment in Catherine’s project includes footage of Jonah Ryan’s New Hampshire congressional campaign. It begins with a tight shot of Jonah on the phone. “How am I doing?” he says. “Eating so much pussy I’m shitting clits, son.” Then the camera zooms out to reveal he’s standing in a classroom full of elementary school students.

Jonah's complete and utter lack of basic self-awareness is a succinct illustration of Veep’s deep cynicism toward politics. And an especially prescient one, considering that, a few years after this aired, our own president out-vulgared Jonah’s pussy-related brag. —Alyssa Bereznak

Lorelai and Rory team up for the Stars Hollow dance marathon in order to beat four-time champion Kirk. When Lorelai’s shoe breaks, Dean takes her spot, but Rory can’t keep her eyes off of Jess watching from the bleachers. Dean finally breaks up with Rory in front of everyone, officially ushering in the Jess/Rory era.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
The tragic (yet hilarious) final shot shows Lorelai comforting a sobbing Rory in the middle of the dance floor as Kirk performs his victory lap around them to the theme from Rocky.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Lorelai’s fast-talking nature thrives in chaos, and the dance marathon is about as chaotic as Stars Hollow gets. This episode also does a lot of early work setting up the future of Lorelai and Luke, and their chemistry over nothing more than a broken shoe says everything you need to know about their imminent relationship. —Kate Halliwell

A woman (Hayley Atwell) grieving over her late boyfriend (Domhnall Gleeson) orders an AI-powered synthetic replica of him. This being a Black Mirror episode, happiness does not ensue. But a devastating meditation on loss definitely does.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Director Owen Harris (who is also responsible for the series's Season 3 standout “San Junipero”) creates a spare, melancholy atmosphere that is both more nuanced and more emotionally devastating than the average Black Mirror episode.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
This episode influenced something else: Russian engineer Eugenia Kuyda actually built software to imitate her dead best friend and cited “Be Right Back” as inspiration. She clearly drew a very different moral from the story than most people. —Kate Knibbs

The Godfather: Part II in Harlan County. The cycle of generational, familial violence that consumed the second season of Justified and the lives of many of its characters comes to a plaintive conclusion. 

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Mags Bennett, played by Margo Martindale, poisoning herself with her own bad batch of moonshine. The first season of Justified flitted between serial and procedural storytelling. It was entertaining week to week, but the violence and criminality of the show were treated with borderline flippancy—all one-liners and Wild West quick draws. The second season truly reckoned with the consequences of the characters’ actions.

These were 13 episodes of TV consumed by the decades-running Bennett-Crowder war and the cyclical violence that came from that feud. Bennett’s postconfessional suicide, which occurs while she’s sitting at a table with Timothy Olyphant’s Raylan Givens, a U.S. marshal, somewhat breaks that cycle and, with it, snuffs out a certain way of life. The Bennett matriarch, who had lost some of her own loved ones to the conflict, figuratively vanishes into the past with the parting line “This is the hard part. … I get to see my boys again.”

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
How many characters have lived through movies or shows because their would-be killer wastes time giving a preshooting soliloquy? It’s a trope, and it’s silly, but Justified found a kind of poetry in the moment. Doyle Bennett couldn’t do away with Raylan without getting the last word: “This bullet’s been on its way for 20 years.” He never got to fire it, but his point was well taken: The violence of Justified had been following the characters for most of their lives—and sometimes from before they were even born. —Chris Ryan

The best sports movie of all time is actually the very first episode of Friday Night Lights. We learn how the entire town of Dillon, Texas, rests its hopes on the shoulders of perfect quarterback Jason Street—and then watch as an injury leaves him paralyzed for life and everyone else changed forever.

What is the most memorable line from the episode?
“Saracen … quarterback’s a captain.”—Coach Eric Taylor, informing backup quarterback Matt Saracen that he’s in charge of the team now

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
When Coach Taylor delivers his first (and probably best) speech, telling his team how to handle the tragedy they’ve just witnessed. Meanwhile, we see shots of Jason Street in the hospital, his parents and girlfriend devastated and weeping. After watching the scene, you will never forget the sound of a circular saw cutting into Street’s helmet so that doctors can begin emergency spinal surgery. —Rodger Sherman

Oprah Winfrey meant to have Tom Cruise on her show to promote War of the Worlds. Cruise ended up promoting the idea that he’d lost it, jumping on Oprah’s couch and proclaiming his love for Katie Holmes. The result nearly killed Cruise’s career, although it undoubtedly launched careers of many celebrity public relations experts.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Without a doubt, the couch.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Take a wild guess. —Kate Knibbs

The most vital characters from the office go to a dinner party at Michael and Jan's condo. It ends up being a total nightmare for everyone there, while being a total delight for everyone watching.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
When Michael tells Pam and Jim that he finally broke down and bought a plasma TV for himself and then the camera zooms out and we see that it’s, at best, 15 inches. And then he tells them that sometimes he’ll just stand there for hours and watch it.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
There are two, both of which come from Pam. The first one is when Pam, talking to the camera, says, “I don't care what they say, I just want to eat. Which I realize is a lot to ask for … at a dinner party.” And the second is when Pam, talking to the camera again after she’s learned (a) that Jan thinks Pam and Michael had a romantic thing together, and (b) that Michael thinks Jan is poisoning his food, says, “I know Jan didn't poison the food. I know that. But if she was going to poison the food of someone at that table wouldn't it be me? Michael's former lover?” —Shea Serrano

Seven episodes into its first season, Atlanta got bored with its own rules and became an entirely different show. “B.A.N.” is nearly a half hour of sketch comedy that belongs, spiritually, on the Lost Episodes DVD of Chappelle’s Show and covers intersectionality, performative masculinity, Dodge Chargers, “Coconut Crunch-O’s,” and the carceral state.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Easily—EASILY—the animated TV spot that started as a cheery, innocuous “Trix are for kids!” spoof and turned out to be a Trojan horse for a police violence PSA. This is Atlanta writ large: giving you something to laugh about, then promptly reminding you what you needed respite from in the first place.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“The price is on the can though.” —Micah Peters

Eight fairly homogenous strangers were picked to live in a modest beach house to find out what happens when people neutralize the word “guido” and start wearing sweats to the club.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
Reality TV began as a genre that explored the inevitable collisions that come with sequestering a varied group of people. Then, the genre morphed as MTV continued to mine the power of unbridgeable gulfs in America. Instead of subjecting strangers to each other in secluded spaces, MTV’s programming captured rarefied lives and presented them to viewers who would never experience anything like what they saw on TV. Newlyweds: Nick & Jessica, Laguna Beach, The Osbournes, The Hills, and even shows like 8th & Ocean presented subcultures that most people would never encounter. This iteration also relied on great divides, but the presumption was that one-way cultural exchange was sufficient.

Jersey Shore was revolutionary because it had roots in both of these versions but also inverted them. It rounded up a group of strangers that all belonged to a small but potent subculture, required the eight like-minded young people to live in a semisecluded house, and allowed conflict to ensue. Instead of assuming the magnetic force of difference would lead to feuds, SallyAnn Salsano’s opus was predicated upon the assumption that a subculture itself was enough to engage a broad audience. There was conflict, yes, but Jersey Shore was at its best when the cast indulged in quotidian activities. Early reality TV was built on the conflicts that come from heterogeneity. Jersey Shore ushered in a new era (which Bravo turned into an industry) based on the entertainment value of hyperconformity without a modicum of self-awareness.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
The shock of the Jersey Shore premiere was so profound that many one-line utterances have gone on to live in infamy. Snooki arrived declaring, “The party’s here!” Jenni (a.k.a. JWoww) explained herself by way of a mission statement: “After I have sex with a guy, I will rip their heads off.” The duck phone cemented its importance with every quack. But the one line that had to be discussed ad nauseam was Mike Sorrentino explaining, “My abs are so ripped up, it’s called ‘The Situation.’” —Juliet Litman

There aren’t many series finales that occasion a New York Times push alert—but then there also aren’t many serialized documentaries that attract The Jinx’s cult following.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Robert Durst’s unknowingly mic’d-up admission—that he "killed them all, of course"—is one of the most jaw-dropping moments in recent television history. Durst’s confession—or seeming confession; he has since said that he was on drugs at the time—had real consequences. He was arrested hours before the finale aired on murder charges related to the 2000 death of a friend, Susan Berman, one of three deaths Durst has been linked to. The finale and arrest kicked off debates over art, ethics, and the law. Were The Jinx’s creators, and in particular director Andrew Jarecki, who spent years speaking with Durst about the deaths, obligated to share what they knew with the police sooner, or were they justified in holding on to, and artfully positioning, the “What the hell did I do?” scene? Was The Jinx just entertainment? Was the true crime genre helping or hindering actual investigations—or doing both at the same time? Durst, now 75 years old, is still in prison and awaiting trial.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“What the hell did I do? Killed them all, of course.” —Claire McNear

President Jed Bartlet goes public with the information that he concealed a multiple sclerosis diagnosis in order to win an election or nobly serve the country, depending on your perspective. On the same day, he buries longtime secretary and friend Mrs. Landingham.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Aaron Sorkin is most famous for walk-and-talk dialogue, but he likes a monologue too—and three minutes of President Jed Bartlet (Martin Sheen), dwarfed by the National Cathedral, screaming at his God in intermittent conversational Latin is Peak Sorkin Speechifying. It’s also, for all the melodrama, a Shakespearean expression of doubt, arrogance, guilt, and anger from one of TV’s last great non-antiheroes of the century (unless you’re a Republican). I was struck, when rewatching, by the fact that the cathedral speech only happens about halfway through the episode, meaning that Aaron Sorkin snuck a dead-language meltdown onto network television in 2001 and then still kept audiences for 20 minutes afterward. The further we wade into the current era—of both politics and television—the more dated The West Wing can feel, but “Two Cathedrals” was truly arresting in the moment. And “You get Hoynes” still lands every time.

Who stole the episode, and why?
The downside of “Two Cathedrals” is that it skimps on the ensemble dynamics that made The West Wing so gratifying (and won it so many Emmys.) The grumbling Toby (Richard Schiff) has no great cause to fight for; poor C.J. (Allison Janney, in her best award-winning role) is stuck worrying about subpoenas and asbestos in the East Room. But Kirsten Nelson, in flashbacks as the young Mrs. Landingham, demonstrates what the show could make of even minor, plot-device characters. She walks, she talks, she criticizes, she loves, and she reminds the audience that every person, no matter how brief their cameo, can contribute to the great, still-optimistic hope that was The West Wing’s America. —Amanda Dobbins

Seattle Grace holds a prom, Denny Duquette dies, Meredith and Derek have sex though they are not together, Izzie quits the surgery program, Cristina sees Burke’s operating-hand tremor, Shonda Rhimes makes her case for being the best writer of season finales, and Snow Patrol’s “Chasing Cars” sends off the sophomore season.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Katherine Heigl mattered once, and it’s because of Izzie Stevens’s heartbreak at the end of Season 2. Clad in a purple prom gown that surely made Jessica McClintock salivate, Izzie climbs into bed with Denny’s body shortly after he has died from a stroke likely caused by a blood clot. The entire second season of Grey’s was an exhilarating ride that propelled its cast to stardom, but Heigl was made in that moment. Alex Karev (Justin Chambers) lifts her from the bed, further showcasing the gown.

Rhimes must have demanded a killer dress, because she wrote its importance into the script. Izzie explains that she changed her dress three times because she wanted to look nice for her fiancé. If she had been there sooner, maybe Denny would have lived, but Heigl would never have gotten her moment.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
2006 was a huge year for Snow Patrol. They provided the signature song of this Grey’s episode, “Open Your Eyes” played in the ER Season 12 finale (May 18, 2006), and “Chasing Cars” was also integral to the One Tree Hill Season 3 finale (May 3, 2006). The song jumped to the top of the iTunes chart after the Grey’s episode. —Juliet Litman

The White family finally and definitively fractures against the backdrop of some gorgeous desert scenery: Hank dies, Flynn finds out what his dad does for a living, Marie calls Skyler out, and Holly gets left in a fire station before Walt skips town. He’s still got things left to do.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? WE’RE A FAMILY!” (Delivered by Walt while his family is cowering in fear of him, after he’d come dangerously close to slashing his wife and son with a knife.)

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
The phone call where Walt embodies the sentient Reddit comment section he and much of the show’s fan base had become, branding Skyler an ungrateful bitch who’d only ever stood in the way of his manhood—a distillation of toxic, aggrieved-nerd masculinity that only grows more prescient by the day. —Alison Herman

In a perfect first episode, Ryan Atwood crashes a car, is arrested, and is subsequently abandoned by his family before being taken in by Sandy Cohen, a pro bono attorney living the good life in Newport Beach, California, with his rich wife and nerdy son. A classic fish-out-of-water tale commences.

What is the most memorable line of the episode?
SAY IT WITH ME: “Welcome to the O.C., bitch.”

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
The success of the series premiere of The O.C.—and the series in general—changed the course of young-adult programming. Without The O.C. there is no Gossip Girl; without The O.C. there is no Laguna Beach (subtitled The Real Orange County), and by extension there is no The Hills, or Spencer and Heidi, or The City, that show starring Whitney Port that MTV tried to make happen. With The O.C., Josh Schwartz proved that there was a giant, thirsty, young audience craving soapy melodramas, ushering in a new era of TV on the back of a chain-smoking bad boy from Chino, a nerdy kid who liked Death Cab for Cutie, a literal Abercrombie model, and a pretty girl with predilection for vodka. —Andrew Gruttadaro

Christopher (Michael Imperioli) and Paulie (Tony Sirico) botch a routine shakedown and end up extremely lost in the New Jersey woods, transforming the mob drama into a demented buddy comedy. The Sopranos’ funniest hour wasn’t directed by the Coen Brothers but feels like it could have been. (Fun fact: Steve Buscemi actually directed!)

Who stole the episode, and why?
Vitali Baganov as Valery, the Russian who just won’t die. Although he wasn’t on-screen for very long, his mind-boggling survival skills and generally surly attitude toward Christopher and Paulie render the duo more pathetic than they’ve ever looked.

What is the best behind-the-scenes anecdote about this episode?
In the documentary James Gandolfini: Tribute to a Friend actor Steve Schirripa discussed a prank he played on James Gandolfini in “Pine Barrens.” In the episode, Tony calls Bobby (Schirripa) to come help him find Paulie and Christopher and starts cracking up when Bobby appears in a hunting costume. “[Gandolfini] said, ‘You better know how to make me laugh tomorrow morning,’” Schirripa recounted. “So I told the prop guy, ‘Listen, do you have any dildos?’ And he found me the biggest dildo, it looked like an Italian bread.” (Schirripa was filmed from the waist up.)

“And I come into the room, which is the scene you see … and you see Jim basically fall over laughing on the counter. —Kate Knibbs

The final episode of the first season of the game show-reality hybrid sensation set the template for a new kind of dramatic TV, where ruthless gameplay trumped narrative. Richard Hatch, a scheming, arch citydweller, outwitted, outplayed, and outlasted an octogenarian marine, a truck driver, and an adventuring outdoor guide to reel in the first place prize of $1 million. America, drop your buffs.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
All of Sue Hawk’s iconic speech during final tribal council:

"I have no questions. I just have statements. Rich, you’re a very openly arrogant, pompous, human being. But I admire your frankness with it. You have worked hard to get where you’re at and you started working hard way before you’d come to the island. So with my work ethic background, I give that credit to you. But on the other hand, your inability to admit your failures without going into a whiny speech makes you a bit of a loser in life.

"Kelly, the rafting persona queen. You did get stomped on, on national TV, by a city boy that never swam, let alone been in the woods or jungle or rowed a boat in his life. You sucked on that game. Anyways, I was your friend at the beginning of this, really thinking that you were a true friend. I was willing to be sittin’ there and put you next to me. At that time you were sweeter than me. I’m not a very openly nice person. I’m just frank, forward, and tell you the way it is. To have you sit there next to me, and me lose $900,000 just to stomp on somebody like this.

"But as the game went along and the two tribes merged, you lied to me, which showed me the true person that you are. You’re very two-faced and manipulative to get where you’re at anywhere in life. That’s why you fail all the time. So at that point of the game, I decided then just to go out with my alliance to my family and just to hold my dignity and values in check and hoping that I hadn’t lost too many of them and play the game just as long as possible and hang in there as long as possible.

"But Kelly, go back to a couple of times Jeff said to you, ‘What goes around, comes around.’ It’s here. You will not get my vote. My vote will go to Richard. And I hope that is the one vote that makes you lose the money. If it’s not, so be it. I’ll shake your hand and I’ll go on from here. But if I were to ever pass you along in life again and you were laying there dying of thirst, I would not give you a drink of water. I would let the vultures take you and do whatever they want with you, with no ill regrets.

"I plead to the jury tonight to think a little bit about the island that we have been on. This island is pretty much full of only two things: snakes and rats. And in the end of Mother Nature, we have Richard the snake, who knowingly went after prey, and Kelly, who turned into the rat that ran around like the rats do on this island, trying to run from the snake. I feel we owe it to the island’s spirits that we have learned to come to know to let it be in the end the way that Mother Nature intended it to be. For the snake to eat the rat."

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
A stunning 51.69 million viewers tuned in to watch the season finale of the first season of Survivor, and that audience immediately observed, along with the contestants, the revolutionary nature of elimination television. The show’s intricate strategy unlocked a layer of viewer involvement and analysis that remains unmatched through 36 seasons. And a legion of imitators tried to recreate the magic of Survivor, building competition around cooking, dating, and American Ninja Warrior-ing. But nothing beats the original. —Sean Fennessey

Too many away games. Brother Mouzone and Omar Little come looking for their revenge, and Bell’s partner Avon Barksdale reluctantly helps them find it. The Wire seasons really end with their penultimate episodes, with season finales serving as a coda for what happened and a prologue for what’s to come. I would argue that The Wire itself ended with “Middle Ground.” Amazing stuff happened after it, and there are plenty of people who think Season 4 is the best the show ever was, but Season 3 had the weight of finality, concluding the most compelling plot of the series: the rise and fall of Stringer Bell.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
It’s a dead heat between Stringer and Avon’s rooftop conversation (“We ain’t gotta dream no more, man”) and Stringer’s fatal reckoning in the abandoned warehouse with Omar and Brother Mouzone (“Get on with it, motherfuckers”). They go hand in hand, really, the former paving the way -- not just narratively, but emotionally -- to the latter. The Wire largely eschewed the violence we associate with cops-and-robbers shows, so whenever it did happen, it hit like a hammer to the stomach -- sudden, shocking, and knocking the wind right out of you. Before going out in a hail of bullets, Stringer had a moment of closure with Avon. Staring out over the city of Baltimore, they remembered wilding out as youngsters. They saw different things, and in the end that’s what tore them apart.

Who stole the episode, and why?
Wood Harris. This is Idris Elba’s swan song on the show, but Harris is elite in this episode, peaking when his Avon emerges from the shadows to interrupt Stringer’s pleas to Slim Charles to take out a state senator: “You got a fuckin' beef with them? That shit is on you!” Harris is a more expressive, physical actor than Elba, and he lopes around the set, dominating space and mocking Bell’s miscalculations. He glows in scene after scene: his conversation with Levy the lawyer, his intimidation of Cutty, his sad realization with Brother Mouzone about what comes next for Stringer. “Middle Ground” will be remembered for Elba, but it’s a Harris highlight reel. —Chris Ryan

A vulgar slapstick epic told from the perspective of two unreliable narrators, Charlie Murphy and Rick James, with Dave Chappelle weaving together the most ridiculous moments from both their tales to reveal a greater truth: Cocaine is a hell of a drug.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
“What did the five fingers say to the face?” Followed by the slap that nearly knocked all the moisturizer out of Charlie Murphy’s Jheri curl. Followed by the mix of anger, emasculation, and genuine shock on Murphy’s freshly violated mug (peep the way he looks at his hand right after the slap, briefly disbelieving in reality). Followed by Chappelle cementing his legend by declaring for the 10th time of the skit, “I’m Rick James, bitch.” All of this preceded by the actual Rick James essentially confirming that this really happened. There were so many moments on Chappelle’s Show that caused me to jolt upright, or fling backward, or fall off a piece of furniture laughing because they were so ridiculous. This was one of them.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
In his 2004 stand-up special, Chappelle lamented his 20-hour workdays and the fact that people were calling him a bitch as they recited his own famous declaration back at him, even at Disney World. Rick James transformed Chappelle’s Show into a cultural touchstone, one of the first programs in the age of rapidly fracturing media that felt bigger than its actual audience. It paved the way for sketch comedy shows like Key & Peele and Inside Amy Schumer. But in reducing Chappelle’s brilliance to a meme, the fan reaction to Rick James ultimately robbed us of one of our greatest comics for a decade. Overwhelmed by the pressure to outdo his previous success and the glee white audience members took in his racialized humor, Chappelle never completed another season of his masterpiece. —Victor Luckerson

The One With the Tracking Shot.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
TV has historically been known as a writer’s medium, but “Who Goes There” saw virtuosic filmmaking take center stage. All anyone was talking about after this episode’s airing was the stash house raid sequence, staged in a single, wandering take by Cary Fukunaga and his cinematographer, Adam Arkapaw. Yes, there had been oners before -- ER specialized in dizzying track shots through reception areas and operating rooms -- but Fukunaga’s was like nothing TV audiences had seen. His camera passed through multiple settings -- from exterior to interior, through multiple rooms, and back outside -- while transmitting story through depth of frame. (Note the execution of one of the bikers masquerading as cops in the background as Cohle drags his hostage away.)

The Sopranos, Deadwood, and The Wire started the conversation about TV being the new movies. We looked to those shows for the kind of complicated adult drama and nuanced characters that we found in the classic cinema of the 1970s. True Detective was where TV became the movies. It showed that anything you could do on a big screen could be ported over to a small one. Directors like David Fincher and Quentin Tarantino had dabbled in television before, but those were either guest gigs (ER, again) or pilot efforts to establish the visual language of a series (House of Cards). Fukunaga was the co-auteur of True Detective, along with writer Nic Pizzolatto, and he was the person responsible for its southern goth noir style. “Who Goes There,” with its fluorescent-lit interrogations, bonfire bike bacchanals, and dim drug dens of violence, became his, and the show’s, calling card.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
It’s obviously the Wu-Tang-soundtracked raid sequence, but the moment within the moment is when Cohle realizes the whole thing is getting away from him (turns out meth-dealing bikers are not reliable business partners), and he lets out a guttural “UGH,” because he knows what comes next. —Chris Ryan

“Rains” was, in many ways, the episode that Game of Thrones was building toward over the previous two seasons. “Getting to the Red Wedding, for us, was such a milestone and such a source of trepidation,” executive producer D.B. Weiss said in 2013. “I remember how it made me feel to read this thing, to have this happen in a book I was reading and not be able to believe what I was reading.”

What makes the scene so shocking, so unforgettable, so heartbreaking, is that it seems to go against the one rule of serialized storytelling: Good must prevail. Robb Stark, the King in the North, eldest surviving son of the late Ned Stark, has returned to the Twins to repair his alliance with the castle’s master, Walder Frey. Robb spurned his marriage pact with the grim Lord of the Crossing after falling in love with the comely foreigner Talisa. After months of war, and in desperate need of troops, Robb strikes a deal with Walder: If the King in the North’s uncle, Edmure Tully, weds one of Frey’s daughters, the Twins will once again swear fealty to the Stark direwolf. But it’s a setup. Frey, with the help of Stark bannerman Roose Bolton, slaughters the attendees. Robb, his mother, Catelyn, Talisa, numerous notable Stark loyalists, and the whole Stark army perish in the slaughter. It’s the series’s most shocking moment.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
“The Lannisters send their regards.”

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
Along with “Baelor,” the penultimate episode of Season 1, the Red Wedding raised the bar for ruthlessness on television. Since then, no character, no matter how much plot armor he or she wears, has been truly safe. “Rains” also helped spark a trend that has since evolved into a mini cottage industry. Book readers filmed their show-only friends and family watching the episode, and their reactions were nearly as entertaining as the episode itself. —Jason Concepcion

While the rest of world watches the 1965 Muhammad Ali vs. Sonny Liston fight, Don and Peggy have a rumble of their own—about Samsonite, office politics, relationships, dead fathers, ambition, and ultimately what they mean to one another.

What is the most memorable line from this episode?
Mad Men had an increasingly obvious habit of planting its major themes in the mouths of its characters; dialogue often turned to pronouncement or to sales pitch. The funny thing about “That’s what the money is for!”—an immortal Don Draper line, yelled near the end of a blistering fight about credit for a Glo-Coat ad—is that it’s a thesis statement in the negative. “The Suitcase,” for all its ’60s references and Duck-shitting-on-a-chair high jinks, is a one-act play about how no amount of financial success or personal happiness will fulfill two people who can only find themselves in their work. Don clings to his job as to a life raft; Peggy uses hers as a speedboat. They’re the alpha and omega of wo
rkaholics, a neat summary of the ways in which a professional life can both open the world and keep one from living in it. The money has nothing to do with it.

These days, “That’s what the money is for” pops up on the internet, or among managers in an office, usually in response to someone who does not seem to grasp the transactional nature of employment. It’s hard to argue with it as professional advice, especially in the era of Dream Jobs and Work-Life Balance. But I’ve come to understand it as a winking phrase, meant not for the entitled employee but for the fellow Dons and Peggys of the world—for those who invest a little too much, and for those who can’t imagine having to explain that investment to someone else. A reprimand, but also a reassurance: There are more of us out there.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
The last Golden Age of television began somewhere around The Sopranos, and it ended, depending on whom you ask, with either True Detective or Game of Thrones, but its peak (and a nice thing about the Golden Age was that it had measurable peaks) was “The Suitcase.” Forty-eight minutes, two actors, some midcentury modern furniture, and one truly excellent Matthew Weiner script—the formula seems almost quaint now in a world of streaming services and $100 million budgets. No mysteries are solved, no buildings explode, and by the end of the episode Don and Peggy are right where they started: at the office, working on concepts for a Samsonite campaign. Are they changed or not? That answer is up to you, though investigating it too thoroughly is another trap of the Antihero Age. “The Suitcase” is about what happens when you put two people in a room: the confessions, the vomiting, the tape of Roger Sterling dictating his autobiography. The finished concept, the open door. The possibility of connection—of briefly getting through to someone else—all contained in one night, on one set. In one episode. It’s the most basic unit of television, and Peak TV is still trying to live up to it. —Amanda Dobbins

The Desmond-centric time-travel yarn is a microcosm of everything Lost did expertly, and, just as crucially, it contains none of the pitfalls that hampered later installments. It’s a pitch-perfect modern TV cocktail, one part sci-fi, one part romance, one part reimagining of The Odyssey, with an Easter egg garnish, on freighter rocks.

What is the episode’s most iconic moment?
Do you remember what it felt like to hear that phone ring? To wonder whether Penny, on December 24, 2004, would pick up as Desmond, mad with need, unstuck in time, had begged her to back in 1996? Can you still hear that first crackly “Hello?,” still see Desmond’s brow wrinkle, pulling in on itself as he finds his anchor, fully comprehending at last what one person can be for another?

Lost was never only Desmond and Penny’s show. That, however, is part of the grand achievement of “The Constant”: Great TV doesn’t have to be about the who, but it usually has to be about the why, and in the fifth episode of its fourth season, with its main players largely sidelined or reduced to exposition-seeking roles, Lost found its why with more clarity than it had before or would after or than most shows ever do in their runs. Whether we’re on a mystical island or an ominous freighter or back in the rhythms of our own dreary lives; whether we’re in the past or the present or the future; whether we can even tell the difference; the bonds that matter most will tether us and reveal our true selves. “No matter what,” Penny says, and Desmond answers: “I’ll come back to you.” And so will we, to “The Constant.” I promise.

How did this episode influence the future of TV?
It’s reductive to say that Lost changed television in ways both good and bad, but it’s also true. Part of the magic of “The Constant” is that it buoys the good while rising above the bad. It stands as a testament to the power of mythmaking and world building—of trusting the viewer to trace every thread of an arc, even when the characters can’t. But it also functions shockingly well as an isolated act, capable of serving as a treatise on the power of love, even if you don’t have an encyclopedic knowledge of the show’s ever-expanding mythology. “The Constant” proved that the best episodes of television can simultaneously fortify the series’s mythology and be appreciated independently, unshackled from end-game speculation. Desmond and Penny’s love story reminded us that the most rewarding 20th-century viewing experiences can give us message-board fodder while allowing us to appreciate the work free from the theories and well-actuallying that dictate so much TV discourse these days. The message of “The Constant,” like its protagonist, is timeless: The puzzle may be fun, but heart will always be the heart. —Mallory Rubin