"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
The story of Archie Bunker and his working-class family in Queens arrived on American TVs as loudly and rudely as the “terlet” flush that broke TV ground in the first episode. Archie embodied the shift among blue-collar union guys from New Deal Democrats to what would become Reagan Democrats, clashing with academic lefty son-in-law Michael “Meathead” Stivic. Carroll O’Connor wrung humanity out of his stubborn, racist character, without excusing him, like a man sucking the last wisp of smoke out of a cheap cigar. And the show never let politics overwhelm its heart; it used one of the oldest setups in sitcomville (the locked-in-the-storeroom) to have Archie and Meathead bond over the story of how, as a poor kid forced to wear a shoe on one foot and a boot on the other, Archie earned his embarrassing childhood nickname. Good night, Shoebooty, and thanks.
Before reality TV involved writers, immunity challenges and Paris Hilton, there was the Loud family. A public-television crew spent hundreds of hours in 1971 with a “typical” California family that proved to be anything but. Midway through the twelve-hour cinema-verite series, paterfamilias and executive Bill Loud and wife Pat decided to split up. Their son Lance was casually introduced into the gay social scene of Greenwich Village, in what would remain one of the most matter-of-fact treatments of a homosexual TV “character” for decades. The series raised what seem like—in the Big Brother and MySpace era—quaint questions about how videotaping reality alters reality itself. But ethically justifiable or not, it remains one of the greatest documents of American life, American media and the steadily vanishing distinctions between the two.