"I apologize. I know I left some of your favorite shows off this list. How do I know that? Because I left some of my favorite shows off this list. The happy and unfortunate fact is that there are far more than 100 great shows, and more created every year. Lists are incredibly important: they are how we define what matters to us, what we want entertainment and art to do, what we expect of our culture." —TIME TV critic James Poniewozik
Andy Rooney, Dan Rather, Ed Bradley, Mike Wallace, Morley Safer, Steve Kroft, Lesley Stahl
“You know I hate to miss 60 Minutes,” Elaine says in the “Puerto Rican Day” episode of Seinfeld. “It’s part of my Sunday weekend wind-down.” For nearly 40 years, 60 Minutes has been simultaneously confrontational and as comforting as a mug of warm milk. The show has been much imitated (where would your local-news’ Shame On You segment be without it?) and has had its embarrassments (the tobacco back-down chronicled in the movie The Insider, a good number of Andy Rooney segments). But it sticks to the ideal that a camera could be a crowbar to pry out truths. In a medium that depends on millions sitting and watching, it reminds us that TV can be most effective (or scary) when watching you.
This racy soap-opera parody was over the top of the top, with storylines ranging from Latin American revolutions to alien abductions to religious cults to demonic possession. Built around the saga of the upscale Tate family and the middle-class Campbells, the sitcom was unapologetically outrageous, but it wasn’t totally outlandish. Part of its appeal and daring was that it showed, at the tail end of the sexual revolution, that the real world was changing in ways that soaps could barely keep up with. Along with the wacky amnesia plots, there was also interracial marriage and prime time’s first un-closeted major gay character, played by Billy Crystal. Sure enough, the show was regularly protested by groups who considered it morally depraved. But, hey, it was the end of the ’70s. Who wasn’t depraved?