"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
In 1989, Michigan housewife Terry Rakolta organized a boycott against this family insult comedy, deeming it offensive, raunchy and sleazy. Curious viewers tuned in, agreed with her—and kept the show on the air for over 10 years. Shoe salesman Al Bundy (like the show, he spent his career stooping as low as possible) was crude, saddled with an oversexed wife and disappointing kids, and Ed O’Neill—one of the best character actors on TV—played him to whiny perfection. Like the Simpsons, the Bundys were really a twisted mirror of TV’s instant-gratification culture, an illustration of deadly sins—lust, sloth, greed—suitable for a medieval morality play. Zestily lowbrow and sex-obsessed, Married was dedicated to the classical ideal that unhappy families were more interesting than happy ones… and a lot funnier.
“Ahead of its time” is a cliche for cult shows, but it may also be an understatement in this case. I’m not sure the time will ever quite come for Norman Lear’s fantastically weird, deadpan parody of soap operas and consumer culture. A nightly comedy-drama, set in a small town in Ohio, its stories involved country music, a murder mystery and the title star, played by Louise Lasser in her iconic pigtails, a housewife obsessed with waxy buildup on her kitchen floors. Following the binge of the ’60s and the purge of Watergate, Lear’s unsettlingly sardonic show captured a hungover America, wandering in a Valium-like haze, morally adrift, and addicted to—you guessed it—television.
It’s Fashion Week in New York City and Manhattan is crawling with eccentric designers, stylish socialites and hungry models looking for next season’s big trend. It seems that our invitation to Marc Jacobs’ show got lost in the mail, so to console ourselves we’ve put together a stylish Spotify playlist.
TIME remembers the legacy of Don Cornelius by looking back at the TV shows that brought — and still bring — a rich trove of music into the living rooms of America
In light of the Material Girl performing at Super Bowl XLVI, TIME takes a look at her life and career, both of which have been lived firmly in the public eye.