Both seasons of David Lynch's uncomfortable and wonderfully-demented series are available for gluttonnous consumption. The series explores the community surrounding the death of a popular, double-life-and-cheer-leading Laura Palmer, as well as the very nature of human evil. There are many moments in this show that elicit reactions you didn't know you had the capacity for--where sometimes you may be tickled by the simple-minded-and-slightly-awkward mirth of the small-town ethos, others will downright have your skin crawling. And rest assured, the series finale will make you question your own sanity. Definitely something worth building up to (or perhaps not...).
Nearly every episode from the seventies straight until the 2010's is available on Netflix. Which is a pretty impressive acquisition. The downside is each episode is removed of musical performances, which can be pretty upsetting when you hear the host tease us streamers with unwitting lies like "Musical guest: R.E.M." or "Musical guest: the Kinks" or "Musical guest: [insert your favorite/ any given iconic performance by any band that's ever appeared on the show]." At the least, hosts whom VH1 reruns, limited DVD compilations fail to include, are shown in sketches that have not at the very least been hoarded in some guarded NBC tape-locker. And of course, there are the obscure/unseen sketches by cast members who rule hollywood these days.
For fans of Ron Swanson's antisocial, meat-eating, and uber-masculine ways (not to mention that mustache) as the Director of the Parks department for which Leslie Knope (Amy Poehler) is so passionate to serve, it should be regarded as a judiciously-sound decision to include this gloriously ongoing series within its increasingly narrowing T.V. offerings. While its obvious brother series the Office (same creators, some actor overlapping) has come to dwindle in recent times (especially with the series-devastating departure of Steve Carell), Parks and Recreation seems to only be getting better with time, to the credit of its consistently great writing and casting decisions (bringing in Rob Lowe was 'literally' the best idea they ever had). Here is a show worthy of reruns from every season, including the latter, which have yet to be re-broadcast elsewhere (other than NBC that is).
The ultimate dysfunctional, frugal middle-class family sitcom, each quirky member of this family is given extensive review: there's the sadistic, burning-ants-with-a-magnifying glass Reese; the precocious, quietly-observant little brother Dewey; the mother-begruding, baggage-toting Francis; the burnt-out, dictatorial mom Lois; the whipped husband, appeasing father Hal; and of course, the all-but-socially-inept boy genius Malcolm. This show, hyperbolic as it was, was incredibly relatable, and a brilliant satire on the horrific banality of suburban life. And then there are the intermittent soliloquoys from Malcolm, in which he adds to each scenario his unique, middle-child perspective. Bonus: see Brian Cranston act a fool before he went all grim as a meth cook in the critically-heralded Breaking Bad (also on Netflix), for which he won a best actor Emmy.
This show, in its 115-episode, middle school-highschool-spanning totality is indeed available. And to the great benefit of all who get swallowed by its bittersweet, nostalgic graces. Filmed in the eighties, depicting the sixties (the soundtrack alone is worth the proverbial tune-in), the show is a consistent, even blend of beautiful, lugubrious, and hilarious. It is an incredibly accurate look at pre-adolescence, with a POV glimpse at the innocence (and subsequent loss) with which those glorious 'wonder years' are replete. The dialogue is brilliant, and true-to- age (take the back-and-forth fraternal bickering and deployment of names like 'scrote' and 'butt-head'), and it's no wonder this show is an emmy-winner: it pioneered every trick and explored every topic (e.g. stingy middle-class family life) that subsequent Emmy-winning shows like Everbody Loves Chris and Malcolm in the Middle would revamp.
It's of little surprise that this uber-syndicated, light-hearted crime series should also be consummable via Netflix. All eight (ah! it's not ten!) seasons of this incredibly disgestible show that centers around the obsessive-compulsive, neurotic hypochondriac of a genius detective (a modern, inverted sort of Sherlock Holmes with an equally questionable methodology) can be viewed in seemless succession--as if there was any other way to absorb a series this homogenized (sterilized?). While Monk's character is the obvious draw (as is his super-cute assistant), there is something alluring about seeing Ted Levine play a character that doesn't wear women's flesh.
Yes Netflix still has a healthy offering of British comedy (not immaculate, perhaps still a little flu-ish, but healthy enough to suffice...that is until you've watched them all). There a dozen great little series--many perhaps obscure for anyone living in the western hemisphere: the Inbetweeners, the Snuff Box, Black Books (all equally, and in their own rights, in need of watching). But the IT Crowd is perhaps the most accessible (also probably the broadest, as far as sitcoms go). It plays host to a number of British names, who seem to make their rounds about the British comedy circuit--including Richard Ayoade, Noel Fielding (i.e. the glammy-'wife-ish' half of the Mighty Boosh), and Matt Berry (also of Might Boosh, as well as Snuff Box). This series goes down like candy (beans on toast?).
For those wishing to step back into the chauvanistic, attractive veneer of the sixties via a successful advertising firm, and its most handome, self-destructively brilliant copywriter Don Draper, your time machine is ready to stream. Since this show is still ongoing, and as is part of Netflix's M.O. to be slightly behind, only the first four seasons are available (with the fifth only just having concluded a few months ago). But for those uninitiated, this is a great way to catch up on the action, excitement, and heavy smoking/drinking.
All 202 episodes of this 9-season-long series--and its every conspiracy theory, UFO, government cover-up, and dissected alien corpse--is available for human contact. And during that run, every freaky encounter by (believer) Agent Fox Mulder and (skeptic) Dana Skully grants us access to one of the greatest character pairings in T.V. history, mixed loyalties and sexual tension left intact.
Every episode of Rod Serling's brilliant, incredibly literary series is available for the viewing (156 episodes over 5 seasons). That means you can have 'time enough to read,' 'terror at 20, 000 feet,' and can 'serve man' whenever you want. 53 years later and no few series on television can hope to match the utterly contentious writing. Alas, no comparison is necessary, when access to this timeless, black-and-white televisual masterpiece made available to a generation that needs not even have a T.V. to watch it.