But there's more to say that "girls rule and guys drool." What those female-centric comedies did, to various levels of success, was bring something fresh to the stale sitcom format: a sharp voice, an unseen character dynamic, a new kind of actress. The "mancession" maladies were throwback sitcoms in the worst way, relying on lazy cliches, telegraphed punchlines, and stereotypes for laughs. The women didn't win because they were women. They won because they were funny.
Sometimes, all shows need is room to breathe
ABC's whiplash-quick, pointedly quirky Happy Endings barely earned a second season after last year's ho-hum ploy to be the next Friends. But throughout its second year, the show blossomed, settling into its characters' hilarious neuroses, upping the zinging references, and tightening the dialogue. A loyal fanbase followed, making Happy Endings the unlikely new sitcom to beat. While New Girl, on the other hand, launched with massive buzz and strong ratings, Zooey Deschanel's odd lead performance was polarizing with critics. But throughout its debut season, it slowly overcame its "adorkable" crutch, becoming one of the most consistent, laugh-out-loud comedies on TV. On the drama side, Revenge embraced its high camp factor as it entered the middle third of its season this winter, producing deliciously fun soap antics that had been absent on TV for years.
Other established series, now in the heart of their runs, became the best versions of themselves after troubled beginnings. Parks and Recreation began as a lame The Office copycat, became the most-improved sitcom on TV, and now, with its touching, absurd recent season, is the smartest show on television. Parenthood, which was disappointing, tangled schmaltz when it first debuted, is no longer an overly earnest family drama, but deeply affecting.
The rules of TV are changing
Television is more daring, more creative, and more unexpected than ever, and this season the rules of convention were thrown out the window. Pivotal, beloved, lead characters were shockingly killed off Game of Thrones and Boardwalk Empire in the name of honest, good story. Ryan Murphy's American Horror Story simultaneously revitalized horror on TV revived the mini-series/anthology format with its commitment to ensuring viewers literally never expected what was lurking around the corner. Breaking Bad, which previously made monumental use of the anti-hero with its conflicted lead character Walt, turned that anti-hero notion on its head by making him more morally ambiguous than ever—and challenging viewers to still root for him.
On the comedy side, New Girl thrust the goofy sidekick into a leading role. Girls allowed its characters to be annoying and sometimes even despicable in the name of truth and comedy. Community traveled deeper and deeper into its rabbit hole of self-reference and meta structuring.
Shows in transition earned mixed report cards
Three of television's most celebrated shows were in transition this season. This was the year The Office had to prove it could go on without Steve Carell as Michael Scott. Sporadic doses of James Spader failed miserably at recreating the Michael spark, while morphing Ed Helms's Andy into Michael 2.0 malfunctioned worse. The addition of Catherine Tate as the odd-yet-charming Nellie at the tail end of the season showed glimmers of promise that this year's C- could be next year's A+. This was also the year that Glee had to force its characters to grow up, introducing rare stakes as it made the decision to graduate half of its lead characters. The whole ordeal was a PR debacle, with erroneous reports of firings leaving fans fuming, and causing lasting confusion over which characters will be returning next year. But while much of this season of Glee was messy and infuriating, the maturation of its characters, who believably and touchingly dealt with having sex, rejection, and saying goodbye, made for some of the finest television moments of the year.
And then there's Mad Men, which found itself this season transitioning into a new cultural era and a new Don. The time shift to 1966 introduced a new sociopolitical context, and with it an exciting reinvigoration—almost like the debut of Mad Men in living color. Don is 40 and subtly existential, while the addition of Megan as his wife Zou Bisou Bisoued unexpected shades from the typically brooding characters. While previous seasons slowly meandered to a climax, there's a palpable urgency to the new Mad Men, and big, important things are happening faster than ever before. It would've seemed impossible, but the show is even better than it's ever been.
The next generation of greatness is here
It's easy to mock the season's biggest failures, and bemoan what network's aren't doing right. But the fact of the matter is that television produced a lot of quality work this year. Led by transfixing performances from Claire Danes and Damien Lewis, Homeland was so riveting and so nerve-wracking that the act of watching it became an almost taxing experience. Lena Dunham may be comedy's next great auteur, speaking to both a new generation and a current moment with Girls. Louie proved that comedy can be as unsettling as it is hilarious, while Game of Thrones redrew the boundaries of scope that television viewers would not only handle, but desire.
Happy Endings's Max, Glee's Kurt and Blaine, Smash's Tom, and The Good Wife's Kalinda—not to mention Modern Family's Mitch and Cam—are the new wave of culturally important characters. Shows like Shameless and True Blood, are abashed in their sordidness, while Mad Men, Breaking Bad, 30 Rock, and Modern Family continue to raise their game—all but ensuring their eventual placards among the greatest of all time.