TV Shows That Aren't About What You Think They Are

Crime procedurals (and serial-killer shows in general) are long-time fan favorites. Every pilot season (or every few weeks on some streaming services), a new drama premiers promising a chilling view into the minds and lives of serial killers and the people that catch them. Even with a prodigious creative pedigree thanks to creator David Fincher, Mindhunter seems to promise more of the same. Imagine audience surprise when Mindhunter proved to be so much more. Sure, each of the two seasons feature the hunt for a notorious real-world killer, but those investigations serve more as a Trojan horse to sneak in a history of the development of forensic investigation techniques and psychological profiling. Even more surprisingly, the deep-dive into the minutiae of investigating serial killers turned Mindhunter into a critical darling and cult favorite.

Person of Interest tracks the vigilante team of a former C.I.A agent and a genius tech-billionaire in their fight against crime. The pair use a highly sophisticated A.I. surveillance system to identify civilians placed in harm’s way by various criminal activities. Cue a vaguely futuristic crime procedural, right? Not exactly. What starts as a relatively by-the-numbers procedural takes a sharp turn into science fiction action programming when the central pair must fight against their own sentient A.I. creation that – in a classically dystopian fashion – wants to find a method of controlling free will. It’s an unexpected plot diversion, but it pays off in spades considering Person of Interest remains a critically acclaimed show.

Those viewers who only managed to catch trailers, advertisements, or the first early episodes of Fox’s Fringe would be forgiven for assuming that the sci-fi drama was merely an X-Files knock-off. And while the mystery-of-the-week structure serves to build a foundation for the show's world, it soon falls by the wayside in favor of a more complex ongoing arc detailing a looming conflict between parallel Earths. The X-Files dabbled in an overarching conspiracy over the course of its several seasons and movies, but Fringe quickly sets itself apart by embracing a more overtly serialized story. Fans have plenty to dig into across five seasons.

Derry Girls pulls off a multi-layered trick that’s truly impressive. On the one hand, it’s a zany, slapstick-y coming-of-age teen comedy. On the other, it’s a nuanced exploration of a culture fracturing in the face of political upheaval. The fact that it manages to work on both levels admirably is a testament to its charismatic (and hilarious) performers, and emotionally well-attuned team behind the camera. Sure, the core group of girls (and boy) face the trials and tribulations endured by every adolescent since the dawn of time like dating, partying, school, parents, etc. But they also must navigate a fraught social and political situation during The Troubles, a decades-long conflict centered in Northern Ireland that revolved around religious, political, and nationalist affiliation. It’s the kind of low-key dramatic bait-and-switch that lends all the more power to Derry Girls’ comedy by rooting it in a melancholic realism.

Gravity Falls follows a pair of intrepid twins and their adventures while spending time in their Great Uncle (or Grunkle) Stan’s eponymous hometown. What begins as a typical fantasy-tinged kids animated comedy instead proves to be a large-scale apocalyptic mystery where the fate of Gravity Falls (and possibly the Earth) hangs in the balance. Striking a tonal balance between slap-happy hijinks and complex, lore-heavy supernatural mystery, Gravity Falls earns an exceptionally impassioned fanbase despite its unusual storyline and sometimes grim developments (AKA anything involving Bill Cipher).

The Sopranos is considered by many TV aficionados to be the best television program of all time. But what distinguishes it from the multitude of crime-family saga’s on cable or the big screen? Rather than simply rehash the prototypical mob family tropes – or rely entirely on the machinations of a criminal organization to provide weekly drama (although there’s plenty of that, too) – The Sopranos flips the script by interrogating depression and generational trauma much more attentively than the day-to-day illicit business that surrounds the life of a gangster. The criminality and gangland maneuvering does occur acts as a catalyst for the much more interesting psychological interrogations that follow.

David Lynch’s Twin Peaks enjoyed massive mainstream success in the early 1990s despite its director's reputation for esotericism. The first season presents itself as a relatively straightforward mystery, albeit with a dash of folk mysticism and supernatural horror. It doesn't take long for the second season to lean entirely into the surrealist, heightened reality, turning into a character piece about the interconnected lives of the oddball populace living in the titular town. Fans didn’t necessarily respond with enthusiasm at the time, although the show has since reached certifiable classic status. Its influence can be seen in many modern prestige-TV shows that rack up plaudits and award show wins today, and the show's iconic imagery have been parodied and lovingly recreated by shows as far-ranging as The Simpsons and Sesame Street.

Amazon Prime’s adaptation of The Expanse has an initial pitched that's straight out of the sci-fi action playbook. And there’s plenty of futuristic, space-centric action, to be sure, but in reality, The Expanse is far more akin to something like The West Wing than a straight-up sci-fi shoot ‘em up. Revolving around the discovery of a massive conspiracy on the heels of the mysterious disappearance of a wealthy activist and set over the backdrop of a solar-system wide political conflict between Earth, Mars, and The Belt (habitations outside of Earth and Mars), The Expanse goes full Tom Clancy meets Aaron Sorkin. Despite the difference in content actuality and content expectation, the TV show has proved a massive cult favorite across a total of six seasons.

Taylor Sheridan has crafted a number of hit shows and well-received movies, all of which follow the denizens of various gritty underworlds or generally harsh environments. Yellowstone is no different, and has become something of a phenomenon in just a few seasons. In a move typical of the filmmaker/writer, Sheridan’s Yellowstone isn’t simply about cowboys in the modern day. Kevin Costner brings gravitas to a story that tracks a ranch owner and the shifting alliances, misconduct, and underhanded dealings that surround the industrial expansion and development of the land surrounding Yellowstone National Park. It's popular enough to generate two spin-offs with more to come.

It would be easy to mistake BoJack Horseman as a crass “adult” animated television show akin to Family Guy or a number of Adult Swim castoffs, judging solely on the advertising and its central premise. To be clear, BoJack Horseman is certainly crass, but it’s also a melancholy look at the Hollywood machine, a downbeat dissection of clinical depression and drug dependency, and a sharply observed portrait of recovery and relapse. Following the titular washed-up actor BoJack Horseman, the show follows the emotional rollercoaster as its dubious lead desperately attempts to regain relevancy. BoJack is compelling, and deeply sympathetic. He’s also self-destructive, narcissistic, and selfish in the extreme. It would be tough ground for a show in any style to cover, and BoJack Horseman’s ability to do so with absurd anthropomorphized cartoon animals is as unique as it is impressive.

Barry stars Bill Hader as a discount hitman who's down-on-his-luck and depressed. Ordered to make a hit in Los Angeles, the titular Barry joins an acting class and decides to reinvent himself as an actor. The premise of Barry promises plenty of cringe-comedy sitcom goodness, a style that falls right into Bill Hader’s admittedly expansive wheelhouse. In practice, Barry delivers a bitter, razor sharp and seething Hollywood satire populated by earnest dreamers in the rat races of Hollywood and its criminal underbelly. It’s an unexpected about-face thematically, but considering the praise lavished upon Barry by critics and fans alike, it’s one that works.

Fans of Adventure Time will attest to needing the qualifier, “I know it looks like a kid’s show, but…” before making recommendations to the uninitiated. What on the surface appears to be a willfully zany, obtuse, and hyperactive children’s fantasy subverts expectations with increasing consistency. There’s plenty of gonzo humor, psychedelic-tinged visuals, and purposefully weird bits for younger folks to latch onto, yes. But as the show progresses, it becomes clear that all is not well for the residents in The Land of Ooo. In fact, the entire world itself is the strange product of some apocalyptic event whose lore gets further fleshed out as the series goes on. Not to mention, the characterization and relationships between all of the wacky citizens that primary adventurer’s Finn and Jake come across are surprisingly emotional and heartfelt.

The title Cougar Town and its initial advertising campaign gives the impression of a comedic take on the sensationalist, soapy stylings of Desperate Housewives. Instead, Cougar Town goes against the trappings of its own zingy moniker. The show – starring Courteney Cox, Busy Phillips, and Christa Miller – trades steamy high-camp drama for much more heartfelt storylines documenting the lives of a compassionate and codependent group of friends. Audiences expecting something salacious get the opposite: a gentle tale about aging, rediscovery, and love.

Genre romance can often be a sure-fire heavy hitter whether in the literary, television, or cinematic world. Who doesn’t love a bit of sensuality with a side of fantasy world-building? Outlander seems, for all intents and purposes, to be another entry in the long line of amorous adventure tales. While it does have its fair share of steamy romance, Outlander leans far heavier on the adventure elements by flinging main character’s Claire and Jamie into the thick of several political revolutions across the world in the mid-18th century. The long-running show is yet another example of how a thematic switcheroo can hook legions of obsessive fans.

The Knick boasts an intriguing premise and an incredible creative duo at the center in actor Clive Owen and director Steven Soderbergh. It’s a hospital-set period drama that takes place at the turn of the century, a seminal time in the world of medicine. While that premise directs much of the story beats across The Knick’s two seasons, the show itself is less interested in House-style diagnosis of the week and much more fascinated by what leads to the kind of relentless drive and willingness to achieve career ambitions at any cost embodied by Owen’s Dr. John Thackery. The Knick still isn't considered a pillar of prestige TV like its backers may hope, but it is critically adored and maintains an impassioned cult audience.

Jane the Virgin gained rave reviews upon its release. Promoted as a prototypical romantic dramedy, Jane the Virgin’s real strength (and purpose) is its hilarious and acutely observed deconstruction of telenovela tropes by rattling through the most unbelievably twisted soap opera concepts with a relatably mundane lead. Jane Villenueva (the titular virgin) is the daughter of a (former) teen mom. Determined not to repeat that cycle, Jane has purposefully decided to avoid relations until marriage. Seeing as she’s engaged and her career is taking off, things are going totally according to plan for Jane. That is, until she is accidentally artificially inseminated at the doctor’s office. And if that weren’t bad enough, the prospective child belongs to her boss. Jane’s obsessively coordinated life and plans for her future are suddenly all-too-similar to the telenovellas she avidly watches. It's a great premise that leaves room for faked deaths, identical twins, and face-swapping criminal masterminds as well as affectionate parody and meta commentary on the telenovela form.