Welcome back to The Sitcomologist’s rankings of the 50 best sitcom episodes of the 2010s. This article ranks episodes 20-11. Continue through to read the breakdowns that follow.
20. Wednesday Morning, 8 AM — A.P. Bio
S2E3, 2019, NBC
From this point forward, I’d say pretty much every episode I write about is going to belong in the sitcom Hall of Fame. Starting with this stellar Mike O’Brien penned episode of A.P. Bio that feels like the live-action heir to 22 Short Films About Springfield.
Somehow, this episode of A.P. Bio manages to pack about nine plots into 22 minutes and nothing seems rushed or underdeveloped. Mike O’Brien’s writing style balances the zany (dead man’s burrito, I’ll break the deer’s leg, etc.) with the necessary world-building of the episode, establishing Lynette as Jack’s equal and future love interest.
We learn so much about Lynette without her ever really saying anything about herself just based on detail alone. She takes smoke breaks but uses an empty vape pen. She’s versed in philosophy but doesn’t believe in higher education. She keeps lollipops on her desk but uses them to shoo away unwanted guests.
Lynette’s introduction is a standout in the episode. But the real strength of Wednesday Morning, 8 AM comes from the looping side plots. Coach feels guilty that he stole 10 dollars from a dead crossing guard. Victor is sad because a bully ruined his breakfast burrito and stained his shirt. Mary and Stef try to cover up accidentally spitting coffee on a student’s art assignment. And Dale the Janitor finds his zen while flooding the entire school.
The more I think about it, the more I like the comparison of this episode with The Simpsons. Like The Simpsons, the strength of A.P. Bio is its ability to use its supporting cast to flesh out every moment of every scene. There’s never a dull moment in Wednesday Morning, 8 AM. Few episodes of this decade are paced better, and even fewer are as dense with jokes and subplots.
It’s a good thing NBC saved A.P. Bio, because this it’s unlike any other sitcom on network television. A world without it on the air is a world not living up to its full potential.
19. Farmer Zack — Detroiters
S2E5, 2018, Comedy Central
The core conflict when debating the relative merits of comedy, in this decade and any that came before it, is how you weigh silliness against commentary. Weightier comedies that hit on the zeitgeist tend to be remembered as “better,” whether they’re political like All In The Family, trailblazing like Mary Tyler Moore Show, satirical like Larry Sanders Show or controversial like The Simpsons. Sillier comedies, meanwhile, tend to be mischaracterized as low-brow or lowest common denominator, or they have to layer their silliness with commentary like South Park to be taken seriously.
All of this is to say that comedy is subjective and yada yada yada, but Detroiters wasn’t taken as seriously as it deserved to be. Tim Robinson and Sam Richardson’s joke-dense Comedy Central standout probably takes the silliness crown for the decade, packing in more jokes per minute than almost any other show with sight gags, physical comedy and surrealist side characters that create the world inhabited by Tim Cramblin and Sam Duvet.
I could’ve highlighted any number of episodes from Detroiters: Devereux Wigs, Happy Birthday Mr. Duvet, Mort Crim and Little Caesars to name a few. But the second-season episode Farmer Zack is probably the best. Seeing an Amber Ruffin cameo is always a welcomed sight. But this episode also had a grocer obsessed with Blade, a customer cutting glory holes into melons, a newsman who doesn’t normally comment on the commercials and, best of all, a biography about Ty Cobb written by Mr. Al Borland himself titled “Karn on the Cobb.”
Tim and Sam have found success elsewhere. They don’t need Detroiters to thrive. But their easy chemistry and believable, real-life friendship made this silly show about over-dramatic, over-the-top weirdos must-see TV for two summers running.
And yeah, I’ll admit it, Blade is pretty cool.
18. Look, She Made A Hat — The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel
S2E7, 2018, Amazon
I want to like The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel a lot more than I actually like it. Don’t get me wrong: I enjoy the show. It’s got beautiful, lavish production and whip-smart dialogue and great side characters and the sweetest tinge of reverence for a bygone era. But even with all that going for it, this is a show I like a lot more than I love.
Maybe it’s because consequences never actually end up consequential. Maybe that’ll change in Season 4 after the way Season 3 ended. But through the first three seasons, Midge has just been too good, too likable and too “spunky” for any of her shortcomings to actually hinder her.
Her husband leaves her? No matter, she finds a new career that she’s amazing at. She needs money? No bother, she’s the most talented make-up artist in New York City. She gets blacklisted from New York City clubs? No matter, she’ll go on tour. She needs a new husband? No worries, the first man she flirts with will propose to her.
Maybe that’s why I gravitate toward the Season 2 episode “Look, She Made A Hat.” It’s one of the few episodes with true consequences. Midge finally outs herself as a comedian in front of her family, ending in a disastrous and hilarious game of Abbott and Costello speak with half a dozen family members chiming in with their opinions and concerns. The episode works , mainly because two seasons of the series had been building up to it.
But even this episode has a bizarre bit included where everyone in the universe is drawn to Midge. A reclusive painter who never shows anyone his work or sells his work to galleries takes a liking to Midge and lets her buy one. There’s no reason to do this. There’s no reason for Midge to be so well-liked that a recluse goes back on his values because of her smiling magnetism.
Anyway, I’m supposed to be talking about why I like this episode. Which I do! But just, like, think of this show as a fantasy if you plan on watching it for the first time. Because somehow it’s the least grounded show on this list. And I included an episode of Angie Tribeca on here.
17. Lee Marvin vs. Derek Jeter — 30 Rock
S4E17, 2010, NBC
Picking any episode as the “best” 30 Rock episode is futile. How can one compare MILF Island to Queen of Jordan? There’s no comparing Succession to TGS Hates Women. It’s a show that took so many risks and juggled so many tones. But I can say with an absurd, unwarranted confidence that if I had to pick one episode as 30 Rock’s best, I’d choose 2010’s Lee Marvin vs. Derek Jeter.
Sorry to sound like Stefon, but this episode has everything. Three’s Company references. Partial competitive jazz dance scholarships. Well-actually conversations about the plot of Avatar. A surprisingly nuanced discussion of race relations in Obama-era America. A 10-second Will Ferrell cameo as the “Bitch Hunter.” A through-joke about the racial identity of Disney princesses. A man with prominent eyebrows who Jenna can’t impress, no matter how much cheese she puts in her mouth. And at the center of it, one of Jack Donaghy’s most humanizing episodes as a man who can’t choose between celebrating his past and chasing his future.
It’s surprising to me that an episode that more or less sidelines Kenneth, Tracy and Jenna can be such a standout episode. Elizabeth Banks’ confidence and Julianne Moore’s charm do a lot to blanket over that. But the real strength of this Tina Fey and Kay Cannon-penned episode is the writing itself, which is as specific and smart as any in the series.
It shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone that I love this episode, given that it’s so rooted in and referential to sitcom lore. Any show can do a “guy tries to juggle two dates at once” episode. Most fail. Heck, even Community failed. And its juggling episode had a Brie Larson cameo.
Not 30 Rock. 30 Rock did it right. Even if Liz had to be pelted by a dozen dodgeballs to make it work.
Related Reading: The Decade SNL’s Not-Ready-For-Primetime Players Went Primetime
16. Knockoffs — Broad City
S2E4, 2015, Comedy Central
Between Jan. 21, 2015 and Feb. 11, 2015, Broad City completed what I believe to be the strongest and funniest four-episode run of any TV show this decade. Between Mochalatta Chills, Wisdom Teeth, Knockoffs and #FOMO, Broad City made a perfect month of sitcoms. We met Bingo Bronson and Val. Ilana accidentally became a slave-pusher. Bevers goes to Soulstice. Abbi pushes herself to the freaking Edge of Glory for goodness sake! Everything is perfect.
But nothing is more perfect than Knockoffs, the third episode in this stretch in which Abbi pegs Jeremy. I mean, that’s it. That’s the premise. And it works for hilarity in every scene. Strutting around the apartment. In the sex shop. In Chinatown. At Grandma Esther’s shiva. In small moments with Bob Balaban and Susie Essman.
I don’t have too much added commentary on this episode other than it’s staggeringly funny. Peak Broad City has such a calming effect. Abbi and Ilana should probably be remembered as the most important comedy duo of this decade, playing off each other as comic foils better than just about anybody.
Especially in this episode. We see Ilana’s perky positivity and Abbi’s downbeat reservedness bounce off each other in every conversation, with all the other characters in the show rotating in the gravitational orbit of their friendship. As it should be.
Related Reading: How A Decade Of Iconic Sitcoms Ended In One Spectacular Spring
15. All Signs Point to Josh… Or Is It Josh’s Friend? — Crazy Ex-Girlfriend
S2E3, 2016, The CW
There’s a beautiful irony to the fact that the best episode of Crazy Ex-Girlfriends usually have the fewest musical numbers. Like Season 3’s Josh’s Ex-Girlfriend Is Crazy. Or Season 4’s I’m Almost Over You. Or, especially, Season 2’s All Signs Point to Josh… Or Is It Josh’s Friend?
There’s only one full song in All Signs Point to Josh… Naturally, it’s a top-five song in the entire series, The Math of Love Triangles. But I’ve written way more about The Math of Love Triangles elsewhere. It’s impossible to separate this episode from its centerpiece song. But let’s try to. Because there’s a lot more going on in here than just a Marilyn Monroe impression.
No show should ever have to lose Santino Fontana. It’s not fair to lose his charm or comedy chops. But if you have to lose Santino Fontana, do it the way Crazy Ex-Girlfriend did. Tear out the guts of all your fans by having two relationships blow up in your main characters’ face at the same time, all the while highlighting the struggle with mental illness central to your character’s journey and hinting at the self-involvement of a single-minded character who can’t see anyone other than herself and the men she’s pursuing.
All Signs Point to Josh… is the episode that the rest of the series hinges on. Combine it with the first half of the following episode, When Will Josh and His Friend Leave Me Alone?, and you get a stirring portrayal of denial, grief and isolation. That said, the jokes never take a backseat. The first reference to Period Sex in All Signs Point to Josh…, is one of the best winks to the camera the series ever indulges in. And none of this is mentioning the equal parts harrow and cringe-comedy of the Paula and Darryl subplot.
But back to The Math of Love Triangles. Is there a better pun from this decade than “That’s astute, so I need to decide which man’s more acute?” Probably not. Ok. Gush over.
Related Reading: Building A Greatest Hits Record of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend Songs
14. Mornings — Master of None
S1E9, 2015, Netflix
Master of None might be the most hit-or-miss show of the decade. When Master of None missed, it missed wide. There are episodes so self-flagellating that I can’t begin to describe how hard I roll my eyes at them. Then there are episodes like Parents, Religion or the transcendent Thanksgiving. There’s also Mornings, a sweet, tender and sad look at a relationship like no other show or movie could’ve done.
The episode function as a half-hour-long montage, telling the story of about a year of a relationship in one apartment. Just like the other Alan Yang episode on the countdown, Forever’s Andre and Sarah, this episode uses time to tinge our characters’ emotions. Dev and Rachel’s cute quirks slowly start to wear on one another and their quibbles turn into full arguments. The strain of living with someone is shown in excruciating detail, as debates about cleanliness and honesty take the form of high drama.
Sprinkled in between the character development and moments of tension, we get little releases of comedy told in Aziz Ansari’s signature style. It’s big. But somehow the big comedy feels down-to-earth because of the charm that Ansari and Yang layer into the script, and because of Eric Wareheim’s subtle but cool direction choices.
Master of None might’ve been better if it was a true anthology series. The plot episodes seem to murk up the storytelling. But when we get an episode like Mornings that’s much more concerned about telling a confined story than conforming to a season arc, we approach perfection.
13. Flu Season — Parks and Recreation
S3E2, 2011, NBC
If there’s one thing I want you to take away from this mini-review, it’s that Chris Traeger is like a microchip. And the flu is like a grain of sand.
I’ve mentioned a few “sick episodes” throughout this countdown, but there’s no sick episode that out-sicks Parks and Rec’s best episode: Flu Season. No one plays delirious quite like Amy Poehler, and her performance as Leslie Knope refusing to admit she has the flu is darn near perfect. Still, it somehow gets overshadowed by Rob Lowe’s career-defining comedy moment: staring into a mirror and demanding himself to stop pooping.
Flu Season is the episode of Parks and Rec I usually start at when I’m considering a rewatch. There are a handful of good episodes before it. But the show doesn’t start to feel uniquely like Parks and Recreation until the early third season. This episode in particular, which includes Ron and Andy’s burgeoning friendship, April’s first moment of respect towards Ann and, most crucially, the first seedling of Leslie and Ben’s love and appreciation for one another.
Parks and Recreation is a defining show of this era. The fingerprints of this Mike Schur masterpiece permeate through every other single-cam network TV show, and will reverberate through workplace sitcoms until the format dies. Flu Season was the start of that, and it stays great from there.
12. Kimmy Is A Feminist! — Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt
S3E6, 2017, Netflix
The formula for Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt was pretty simple: Talk so fast that audiences would overstand about 50 percent of your jokes and not notice the bleakness of your premise.
The first season of UKS is a marvel of storytelling. The second season didn’t live up, in my mind. But the third season becomes exactly what the show should’ve been all along, and that manifests itself best in Kimmy Is A Feminist!
I think of Kimmy Is A Feminist!, the same way I think of 30 Rock’s TGS Hates Women. It’s hard for writers to satirize the side of the political spectrum they agree with, but Tina Fey and Robert Carlock’s shows never seem to have a problem with it. Kimmy Is A Feminsit!, is the best example, with the show poking fun at college and prep school liberalism with shocking specificity. The way Kimmy comes to her realization that college students are really just babies in adult bodies, her own innocence is both justified and compromised.
None of this is mentioning the bizarre side plot including Jacqueline, Tituss, Lillian and Duke that involves more double-crosses and erotic wrestling demonstrations than any episode deserves. But Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt pulls it off because of the lightning-fast delivery and tight writing in every episode.
As someone who has spent the last eight years of his life living on or adjacent to college campuses, I’m probably biased toward the college-lampoonery in this episode. But when you combine that with three seasons worth of inside jokes and intertextuality, you get a breathing document of an episode that satirizes modern gender roles and status symbols without sacrificing the absurd and silly jokes that are hallmarks of this show.
11. Falling Slowly — The Last Man On Earth
S2E16, 2016, FOX
I knew The Last Man On Earth wouldn’t be a show in it for the long haul the day after the pilot episode aired. I remember watching the superb pilot, Alive in Tucson, live on FOX and thinking it was the best network premiere since Modern Family, or maybe Arrested Development. Then the next day I got a call from my dad who told me it was one of the worst and dumbest hours of television he’d ever seen.
That’s the duality of The Last Man on Earth. To some, it was a breathtaking and wondrous show about isolation, grief, growth and fresh starts. To others, it was a stupid show about farts, alcohoilic debautery and a little too much self-pleasuring. Just like MacGruber, Will Forte’s other underappreciated cult gem, The Last Man on Earth catered to a specific audience. An audience I happen to be a member of.
The back half of Last Man’s second season is a masterclass in tension and release. Starting with Phil’s appendectomy and Mike’s return mission all the way through the jar of farts in the finale, every moment is layered with an indescribable distance, an awareness from the characters that life is limited, and being a survivor is as much about moving forward as it is about remember what you’ve lost.
All of this is to say that my favorite episode of The Last Man on Earth is an episode that starts with Tandy and Mike doing a duet of Falling Slowly from Once and consists mostly of Tandy trying to decide whether he’d be OK with Mike impregnating Carol, Tandy’s wife. The Last Man on Earth was notorious for filming the least sexy sex scenes in TV history, and Falling Slowly includes perhaps the worst (best?) one, where Mike and Carol fantasize about a picnic to get Carol going.
The Last Man on Earth thrived when it turned extremely minor moments into high-stakes, life-or-death situations. In many ways, the fate of the human race depended on Mike’s ability to impregnate his brother’s eccentric wife. Couple that with Todd’s downward spiral that begins in this episode and Gail noticing the drone hovering over the Malibu house and you have an episode that made something spectacular out of mundanity.
Which, when you really think about it, was the whole point of The Last Man on Earth. Living life with purpose is just about the most mundane thing a person can do. But when done right, it can be spectacular.
(Side note: This episode is my second mention of writer John Solomon, who in addition to co-writing this episode also directed A.P. Bio’s Wednesday Morning 8 AM. I’m fairly certain that joins him with Alan Yang of Forever and Master of None as the only writer/director to factor into two episodes on this list. Might’ve missed someone. But good for these two guys.)
The Sitcomologist 
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