Throughout December and January, the CAPC team has compiled a list of our favorite pop culture artifacts from the previous year. Unlike most year-end lists, we don’t claim that these are the “best.” Rather, these are the things that brought us the most joy and satisfaction in the last 12 months.
For 2024, our favorite TV included video game adaptations, fantasy epics, historical dramas, spy families, and more.
Fallout, Season One (Amazon Prime Video)
One of the most entertaining and stylish shows I watched in 2024, Fallout is a genre-bending (dystopian, sci-fi, mystery, romance, comedy) statement. Similar to my favorites pick last year (The Last of Us), Fallout’s zombie-riddled, post-apocalyptic narrative is based on a video game I’ve never played. But Fallout’s suave aesthetic, robust writing, and engaging commentary make it distinctive.
The audience is gradually introduced to a United States where nuclear war obliterated or mutated all life except those protected in underground vaults. Jumping timelines between a 1960s setting and roughly 270 years in our future allowed the production crew a wide pallet of beautiful colors, architecture, and technology, contrasted with barren landscapes, mutated monsters, and evolved civilization. Fortunately, the producers didn’t wane after gorgeous world-building but commissioned strong storytelling and an excellent cast.
The plot gives every major character a quest, believable due to superb acting by Aaron Moten, Ella Purnell, Walton Goggins, and others. Speculation on how Americana would morph in isolationist microcosms gives the freedom for an observational critique of human nature, corporate greed, religion, bureaucracy, and innovation without ever coming off as preachy. Thankfully, Amazon has already green-lit season two, otherwise the fan fallout would be explosive.
—Chris Fogle
Nobody Wants This (Netflix)
Netflix’s Nobody Wants This might just be the romantic comedy that puts the genre back on the map in 2024. A hot rabbi (Adam Brody) and an agnostic sex podcast host (Kristen Bell) seem like an unlikely match when they first meet at a mutual friend’s dinner party—but as their now-viral first kiss proves, their chemistry is undeniable. (In preparation for writing this, I may or may not have watched that scene three or four times. If you haven’t yet, do yourself a favor and hit play. You won’t regret it.)
What makes this show worthy of this recap, though, isn’t just the electric connection between its leads—though they have sparks in spades. It’s the ensemble cast that brings the show to life. Sasha, Noah’s brother (played by Timothy Simons), and Morgan, Joanne’s sister (Justine Lupe), forge an unexpected and endearing friendship that adds depth and charm beyond the central romance. Few shows have made me laugh out loud as much as this one, and even fewer have made me want to grab a drink and join in on community basketball games or adolescent wisecracking at a religious summer camp.
Lighthearted yet thoughtful, Nobody Wants This tackles love, faith, friendship, and the messy, meaningful stuff of life with levity and sincerity, a hard combo to hit well. The last episode may have ended on a cliffhanger, but one thing is certain: everybody wants season two.
—LuElla D’Amico
The Rings of Power, Season Two (Amazon Prime Video)
Amazon’s The Rings of Power came into the world with an Oliphaunt-sized amount of controversy—and not entirely without reason. The show’s first season provided a mixed bag of entertaining spectacle and strong production values alongside frustrating deviations from Tolkien canon. What was supposed to be a climactic revelation in Season One (“Sometimes to find the light, we must first touch the darkness”) turned out to be a head-scratching anomaly, like seeing a meme that drastically misquotes an historic personality. At the end of the season, hope for a rousing Middle-Earth adventure seemed to fade.
But we were, all of us, deceived, for a second season was made. While not without flaws (some of them significant), Season Two proved a vast improvement over the first, due in large part to the story arc involving Annatar (Sauron) and Celebrimbor, the Elven-smith manipulated into forging the titular Rings. These two characters were magnetic: Sauron as a Satan-like deceiver/accuser and Celebrimbor as a prince whose honor is slowly corrupted by the machinations of an angel of light (to borrow language from 2 Corinthians 11:14).
For all its faults, The Rings of Power has refused to cater to the actor objectification so prevalent in serious television dramas. Tolkien’s worldview can’t help but seep out of the narrative, exploring themes of morality with a distinctly Christian voice. (Even the “touch the darkness” gaffe from Season One is almost—almost—redeemed in Season Two.) And one absolutely stellar aspect of the show is its musical score: composer Bear McCreary has crafted a gorgeous and melodically rich tapestry that matches the high bar set by Howard Shore before him. Yes, there are plenty of ways The Rings of Power could further veer from Tolkien’s vision, but Season Two has given us some truly great television moments to enjoy and appreciate.
—Cap Stewart
Shōgun, Season One (FX)
Arguably 2024’s most acclaimed and rewarded series—it landed on numerous year-end lists and cleaned house at the Primetime Emmys and Golden Globes—FX’s Shōgun is a prime example of historical costume drama done right.
Based on James Clavell’s best-selling 1975 novel, which was previously adapted into a 1980 miniseries starring Richard Chamberlain and Toshiro Mifune, Shōgun tells the story of an ambitious English navigator who washes ashore on 17th century Japan, and finds himself in the midst of both a power struggle and a culture that he barely comprehends.
Featuring powerhouse performances by Japanese film legends Hiroyuki Sanada and Tadanobu Asano alongside Anna Sawai, Cosmo Jarvis, and Moeka Hoshi, as well as sumptuous production design and exquisite attention to historical and cultural detail, Shōgun grabs you from the very first scene—and its bracing storyline of political turmoil, religious conflicts, personal ambition, and conflicted duties never lets go for a single moment. Not that you want it to, mind you. It’s a rare pleasure to watch a TV series this assured and confident, and told with so much skill and conviction.
Not surprisingly, a second and third season have already been greenlit, making it clear that the struggle for 17th century Japan is far from over.
—Jason Morehead
Silo, Season One (Apple TV+)
Silo is a dystopian thriller, a post-apocalyptic “bunker story” that captures our conspiracy theory-laden zeitgeist. Ten thousand people live in a massive underground silo of 144 levels, bound by “the pact”—strict rules centuries old, designed to keep everyone safe. Their one unquestionable principle? To leave the Silo is to die. As the Silo’s sheriff says: “We do not know why we are here. We do not know who built the Silo. We do not know why everything outside the Silo is as it is. We do not know when it will be safe to go outside. We only know that day is not this day.”
The Silo’s life-preserving restrictions are inhumane. Contraception is mandatory; only lucky couples chosen by lot bear a child. Everything is recycled; every corpse is compost. Relics of the pre-Silo past are forbidden. Every (suicidal) request to go outside is granted, and those who leave must clean the camera aimed at the outside world in their final moments, so everyone can see the desolation.
Silo’s protagonists question the leadership’s intentions, the pact’s purpose, and the poisoned-world narrative. What if we can’t trust our own eyes, and it’s actually a paradise outside? What if this whole thing is a lie? Having grown wary of conspiracy theories (which grow like weeds on social media as our institutions falter), it’s a head trip to root for heroes who are, in fact, conspiracy theorists. I find myself asking: what if authoritarian lies are the only thing preventing mass death? As one leader cautions, “The truth is a dangerous thing.” I don’t know where Silo‘s story is headed. But sitting in the uncertainty and distrust it generates feels disturbingly familiar in our post-pandemic world. The choice between truth and life-preserving order, between knowledge and safety, is a terrifying one.
—Alisa Ruddell
Spy × Family by Kazuhiro Furuhashi
The world of Spy × Family is that of a spy thriller, with master of disguise Twilight and the competing nations of Ostania and Westalis. However, the political situation isn’t fleshed out very much, and there’s little in the way of overarching lore. We get only the vaguest of details about the two countries’ conflict, Twilight’s “missions” do not focus on any mysterious conspiracy, and the various plot arcs so far show little sign of having anything to do with each other.
Instead, the series’ core is actually a drama about a “found family” coming together—ostensibly for pragmatic reasons, but really for the way they find wholeness in each other’s brokenness. Twilight needs to get close to the influential and dangerous Donovan Desmond. The only way to do that, however, is not via disguise, but by becoming a family man. Twilight finds and adopts the precocious Anya, who unbeknownst to him is a telepath, and comes to an arrangement with a woman—the socially awkward Yor, secretly a deadly assassin called “the Princess of Thorns”—who herself wants a husband to fend off inquiries about her night-time extracurriculars.
Most of the series is focused on family drama and relationships. Escapades are hilarious and over-the-top, resembling a wacky ’90s sitcom more than a James Bond film. The cold and calculating Twilight, who has lived so long as a lying spy that he barely knows how to express his true feelings, is taken aback by the unpredictable Anya and the hopeless-at-housework Yor, but he unexpectedly becomes deeply attached to both (though he constantly assures himself that it is only “for the mission”).
Crucially, part of the artist’s point is that no family is truly “normal” or has everything perfectly figured out. When Yor confesses to the housewives’ group that she feels very unsuited to motherhood, many of the older and wiser mothers laugh and tell her that no one is “perfect” at being a mother. This family has some amazing talents, true, but they come up short in very basic and human ways—and that’s part of the charm.
In a culture where romance is often mythologized and family often overlooked, Spy × Family provides an atypical case of a family that comes together for pragmatic reasons, but grows to love each other through the day-to-day drudgery of life (in between achieving world peace, of course). It’s a hilarious and heartwarming anime.
Virgin River (Netflix)
When I saw that Netflix was releasing Virgin River‘s sixth season on December 19, it felt like an early Christmas present. Virgin River has always been about more than just romance; it’s about the beauty of small-town life, the way ordinary moments take on deep meaning, and the intergenerational drama that makes you feel like you’re part of the community. Based on Robyn Carr’s beloved novels, the show has mastered the art of making even the smallest milestones feel monumental.
Right from the first episode, I was thrilled when Doc Mullins visited the optometrist and learned that his eyesight had improved enough for him to practice medicine again. How often does a show make you care about doctor visits and anniversary cards from sewing circles? That’s what Virgin River does so well, reminding us that life’s simplest moments are often the most meaningful.
We saw bachelor and bachelorette parties filled with laughter, budding romances, baby announcements and news, and even an unexpected flashback storyline following Mel’s mother, Sarah, as she fell in love with her father, Everett, after meeting him as a hitchhiker. This parallel love story added a new layer to the season, showing how love—past and present—continues to shape lives in Virgin River. And of course everything culminated in Jack and Mel’s wedding. After all the ups and downs, their love story culminated in a ceremony set against the show’s signature mountain scenery. The ceremony itself was intimate and emotional, with vows true to the characters and a reconciliation between two old friends, Doc and Everett, that in the show’s imaginary world carries almost as much weight as the wedding.
As I watched, I found myself crying as if I were attending a real ceremony. Because that’s the main appeal of Virgin River—it makes you feel as if you’re celebrating with people you’ve come to hold dear. If there was ever a perfect way to close out 2024, it was with this long-awaited, deeply satisfying season. Here’s hoping 2025 holds another.
—LuElla D’Amico
Jamie Foxx: What Had Happened Was… by Hamish Hamilton (Netflix)
When a health scare left Jamie Foxx hospitalized for weeks in the spring of 2023, rumors immediately began swirling, in some outlandish ones that he’d died and been cloned. So on this Netflix special, the stand-up comedian, musician, and Oscar-winning actor sets the record straight, and in emotional fashion, as he talks—and jokes—about the stroke he experienced and his arduous recovery.
This being Jamie Foxx, What Had Happened Was… is often crass and profane. (In one bit, he recounts his anxieties over whether or not his body would regain its normal sexual function.) But it’s also deeply reverent, with Foxx breaking down on multiple occasions as he discusses his Job-like struggles with God as well as his profound revelations concerning his life, career, and family. (In one beautiful moment, he talks of the massive perspective shift he had upon entering his rehab facility, and seeing all of the other patients struggling with far worse conditions.)
The special culminates in something akin to a gospel revival, as Foxx leads his audience in a spirited round of “God is good/All the time/All the time/God is good,” which might just be the most spiritual moment that Netflix has ever streamed.
—Jason Morehead
Source: Christ and Pop Culture – christandpopculture.com
