True TV: Second-chance TV series on Netflix 

• Sony Pictures Television
• Loudermilk

Besides poverty and eyeball strain, one of the biggest hazards of being a TV critic is surfing too far ahead of the curve. I'll praise a cool new show on an obscure platform strictly on its merits, not its availability: Don't have a Snork+ subscription? Sucks for you. Then, years later, that cool new-to-civilians show turns up on Netflix, and everybody hits me up about it. Here are a few examples, all now streaming on The Big Red N.

Loudermilk (2017–2020): Loudermilk, a comedy about a recovering alcoholic Gen-X rock critic (Ron Livingston), premiered to no one on DirecTV's ironically-named Audience Network. It later turned up on Prime Video, but the show blew up bigly when it dropped on Netflix in January 2024. Sam Loudermilk runs a recovery group, lives with a pair of former addicts (Will Sasso and Anja Savcic), and regularly rants about modern culture and popular music (he's not a fan of either). Four seasons, no filler.

Detroiters (2017–2018): Before he had a hit with I Think You Should Leave, Tim Robinson co-created and starred in Detroiters on Comedy Central—this was back when CC produced originals beyond South Park and The Daily Show. Best friends Tim (Robinson) and Sam (Sam Richardson) work at a Detroit ad agency, cranking out low-budget/high-hilarity TV commercials for local businesses. Detroiters has the lived-in feel and flow of a 10-year comedy, but it only lasted for two terrifically rewatchable seasons.

Kevin Can F**k Himself (2021–2022): Annie Murphy went hard, dark and weird for her first post-Schitt's Creek TV series, Kevin Can F**k Himself. In one reality, housewife Allison (Murphy) suffers moron husband Kevin (Eric Petersen) and a braying laugh track that thinks he's hysterical. In another, the laughs are gone, the lights are low, and Allison is desperate to get out of this abusive, sub-King of Queens hell. The sitcom/drama pivots of Kevin Can F**k Himself are black comedy gold, and Murphy crushes both.

Preacher (2016–2019): One of AMC's most gonzo gambles, besides Kevin Can F**k Himself, was Preacher, based on the Vertigo Comics series. When hard-drinking and harder-living Texas preacher Jesse (Dominic Cooper) mysteriously gains the power to bend people's will, he hits the road to find God with his violence-prone ex, Tulip (Ruth Negga), and Irish vampire Cassidy (Joseph Gilgun). Preacher is a righteously blasphemous thrill-kill ride that takes no prisoners, and wisely capped at four seasons.

UnReal (2015–2018): For those who hate reality TV (guilty), UnReal is a dark, devious pleasure that somehow began as a Lifetime(!) original. Rachel (Shiri Appleby) is a producer on "Everlasting," a Bachelor-esque dating show. She excels at ginning up TV-ready drama between contestants, but it wears on her soul. Meanwhile, her boss Quinn (Constance Zimmer), who has no soul, pushes Rachel to do anything for ratings. Everyone on UnReal is awful, but you still root for them. Just like reality TV.

Dare Me (2019–2020): Dare Me premiered on USA Network in the TV dead zone between Christmas and New Year's Day—you know, that magical time of year when everybody's looking for a glum psychological thriller about high school cheerleaders. The story centers on besties Addy (Herizen Guardiola) and Beth (Marlo Kelly), who find themselves at odds when a new cheerleading coach (Willa Fitzgerald) arrives who has a mysterious past with Addy. Come for the routines; stay for the sheer tension.

Warrior (2019–2023): HBO afterthought Cinemax's ambitious-but-doomed foray into original programming produced some solid shows (Banshee, The Knick, Quarry), but none of them topped Warrior. The action series, executive-produced by Shannon Lee (daughter of Bruce Lee, who ideated Warrior), follows Chinese martial arts prodigy Ah Sahm (Andrew Koji) as he battles to stay alive—and find his sister—in 1870s San Francisco. The cinematography is as gorgeous as the fight scenes are brutal.