Why Are There So Many Good TV Shows to Watch Right Now?

Pedro Pascal arrives at a screening of "The Mandalorian," during PaleyFest, Friday, March 31, 2023, at the Dolby Theatre in Los Angeles. (AP)
Pedro Pascal arrives at a screening of "The Mandalorian," during PaleyFest, Friday, March 31, 2023, at the Dolby Theatre in Los Angeles. (AP)
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Why Are There So Many Good TV Shows to Watch Right Now?

Pedro Pascal arrives at a screening of "The Mandalorian," during PaleyFest, Friday, March 31, 2023, at the Dolby Theatre in Los Angeles. (AP)
Pedro Pascal arrives at a screening of "The Mandalorian," during PaleyFest, Friday, March 31, 2023, at the Dolby Theatre in Los Angeles. (AP)

Picture May 17, 2001. In the final seconds of the season seven finale of "Friends," Jennifer Aniston’s Rachel reveals she's pregnant — but who's the father? This was a classic May sweeps cliffhanger, luring viewers and reaping advertising dollars for NBC.

Most shows used to kick off in the fall, air big episodes in November and February, and go out with a bang in May. Baby announcements, marriage proposals and sudden deaths were just a few of the popular plot twists used in spring season finales to hook viewers and build anticipation for the fall season.

Network television still largely follows that model, but the streamers and premium cable competitors of the new guard tend to operate with different goals. Rather than angling for ratings, those companies are releasing new seasons of popular TV shows — "Ted Lasso," "Succession," "The Mandalorian," "The Last of Us," and "Yellowjackets" — with an eye to Primetime Emmy Award recognition.

Everyone wants to be fresh in the minds of voters, said Joyce Eng, a senior editor of the Hollywood awards-centric website Gold Derby.

"A lot of networks, streamers and campaigners will capitalize on recency bias," she said.

For a TV series to be eligible for a Primetime Emmy, it must air between June 1 and May 31 of the following year. Six episodes of a returning season need to air by May 31 to qualify for a series category. The cast and crew then cross their fingers for nominations, which this year will be announced July 12, followed by the Emmy telecast on September 18, when the awards are handed out.

Limited series have to air all their episodes by May 31 in order to be eligible for nomination. In March, Amazon Prime's highly anticipated " Daisy Jones & The Six " dropped its 10 episodes in four batches.

It can be a scramble for shows to finish by the end of May: "Ted Lasso" on Apple TV+ drops its final episode of season three, and maybe the entire series, on May 31. The fifth and final season of "The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel" returns on Amazon on April 14 and swiftly wraps by May 26.

If a returning series does not release six episodes of its season by the May 31 deadline, the remaining "hanging" episodes can be nominated in categories that only require a single episode to enter, such as guest actor.

Season three of "The Handmaid’s Tale" premiered June 5, 2019 — which was too late for Emmy eligibility that year. Rather than sit the year out though, "they found a loophole," Eng said. They submitted three episodes that had aired in 2018 during the previous season for individual achievement categories, and earned 11 nominations.

When it comes to scheduling, network and streamer executives maintain tight control over the release-date calendar.

"They choose when we go," said Rob Eric, chief creative officer and executive producer of Scout Productions. This year, he has four series premiering right before the deadline.

"We can make suggestions, but really they’re in charge of how that rollout looks," he said of the platforms.

Release dates are not always entirely about potential accolades.

"Sometimes a series is released because it's timely and speaks to what’s happening in the world," said Tony Phelan, who created "A Small Light" with Joan Rater. The NatGeo series tells the story of Miep Gies, who helped hide Anne Frank and her family.

"It's in direct response to what’s happening in the world, specifically in America in terms of division and the rise in nationalism and antisemitism," Phelan said of the show.

Still, to end the show in time for award eligibility, "A Small Light" will release two episodes each week on National Geographic, premiering May 1 and ending May 31.

"How did that happen?" Phelan asked in mock surprise of the reason behind the show's timeline.

It should be noted that shows released in late summer and fall can still garner attention from awards committees — just a little later. Netflix dropped all nine episodes of "Squid Game" in September 2021 — and it was still nominated for last year's Emmy Awards, including best drama series. Lee Jung-jae also won best actor in a drama series, making history as the first person to win in the drama category for a non-English speaking role.

The critically acclaimed and popular series "The Bear" debuted its first season last June, but it was too late for the 2022 Emmy Awards. By premiering in the summer though, the Hulu show shined and wasn't drowned out by competitors. And the Emmy Awards aren't everything: Star Jeremy Allen White cleaned up at the Golden Globes, where he won best actor in a musical or comedy series.

"There are just so many shows, so many streaming services, and people don’t have the time," Eng said. "From the studio and network standpoint, maybe you should pull something like ‘The Bear’ and drop it in the summer and build that momentum because that was a word-of-mouth hit."

Still, some award shows reign supreme.

Eric Korsh, the president of Scout Productions, distilled the value of award recognition: The Emmys, he said, "are about defining the best in television."



‘The Brutalist’ Doesn’t Work without Guy Pearce

 Guy Pearce poses for photographers upon arrival for the premiere of the film "The Brutalist" in London, Wednesday, Jan.15, 2025. (AP)
Guy Pearce poses for photographers upon arrival for the premiere of the film "The Brutalist" in London, Wednesday, Jan.15, 2025. (AP)
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‘The Brutalist’ Doesn’t Work without Guy Pearce

 Guy Pearce poses for photographers upon arrival for the premiere of the film "The Brutalist" in London, Wednesday, Jan.15, 2025. (AP)
Guy Pearce poses for photographers upon arrival for the premiere of the film "The Brutalist" in London, Wednesday, Jan.15, 2025. (AP)

Over the years, Guy Pearce has been good in most all things. But he’s been particularly good at playing characters with a refined disposition who harbor darker impulses underneath.

That was true of his breakout performance in “L.A. Confidential" as a squeaky clean police detective whose ambitions outstrip his ethics. It was true of his dashing upper-class bachelor in “Mildred Pierce.” And it’s most definitely true of his mid-Atlantic tycoon in “The Brutalist.”

“I’m really aware of how precarious we are as human beings,” Pearce says. “Good people can do bad things and bad people can do good things. Moment to moment, we’re trying to just get through the day. We’re trying to be good. And we can do good things for ourselves and other people, but pretty easily we can be tipped off course.”

That sense of duality has served Pearce’s characters well, especially his men of class who turn out to have less of it than they seem. His Harrison Lee Van Buren in “The Brutalist” may be Pearce’s most colossally two-faced concoction yet. If Brady Corbet’s film, which was nominated for 10 Oscars on Thursday, is one of the best films of the year, it’s Pearce’s performance that gives the movie its disquieting shiver.

Pearce’s Van Buren is a recognizable kind of villain: a well-bred aristocrat who, at first, is a benevolent benefactor to Adrien Brody’s architect László Tóth. But what begins as a friendship — Tóth, a Holocaust survivor is nearly destitute when they meet — turns increasingly ugly, as Van Buren’s patronage, warped by jealousy and privilege, turns into a creeping sense of ownership over Tóth. The psychodrama eventually boils over in a grim, climactic scene in which Van Buren pronounces Tóth “just a lady of the night.”

“What was great to discuss with Brady is that he is actually a man of taste,” said Pearce in a recent interview. “He’s a man of class and a man of sophistication. He’s not just a bull in a China shop. He’s not just about greed, taking, taking, taking. It’s probably as much of a curse as anything that he can recognize beauty and he can recognize other people’s artistry.”

For his performance, the 57-year-old Pearce on Thursday landed his first Oscar nomination – a long-in-coming and perhaps overdue honor for the character actor of “Memento,” “The Count of Monte Cristo” and “The King’s Speech.” For the Australian-born Pearce, such recognitions are as awkward as they are rewarding. He long ago decided Hollywood stardom wasn’t for him.

“I get uncomfortable with that, to be honest,” he says. “I’m really happy with doing a good performance. I can genuinely say within myself I’ve done a good job. Equally, I know when I’ve done a (bad) job. But I’m also well aware of how a performance can appear good purely because of the tone of the film. I might have done exactly the same performance in another movie with not such a good director, and people might have gone, ‘That was full-on but whatever.’ Whereas in this film, we are all better than we actually are because the film has integrity to it that elevates us all.”

Like F. Murray Abraham’s Saleri in “Amadeus,” Peace’s Van Buren has quickly ascended the ranks of great cinema villains to artists. The character likewise has some basis in reality, albeit extrapolated from a much different time and place. Corbet and Mona Fastvold, who are married and wrote “The Brutalist” together, were fueled by their hardships with financiers on their previous film, 2018's “Vox Lux.”

“We didn’t have a Van Buren but we certainly had our fill of complicated relationships with the people who hold the purse strings,” says Fastvold. “There’s a sense of: I have ownership of the project because I’m paying for it, and I almost have ownership of you.”

Pearce has been around the movie business long enough to shake hands with plenty of wealthy men putting money toward a film production. But he says none of his own experiences went into “The Brutalist.”

“There’s always this slew of producers at a higher level than us who come and visit the set,” Pearce says. “I’m polite and I go, ‘Hi, nice to meet you. Thanks.’ But I’m a little caught up with what I’m doing. Then three years later you’ll meet someone who says, ‘You know, I was a producer on “L.A. Confidential.”’ Ah, were you?”

Pearce, who lives in the Netherlands, has generally kept much of Hollywood at arm's length. In conversation, he tends to be chipper and humble — more interested in talking Aussie rules football than the Oscar race. “Any chance to have a kick, I'll have a kick,” he says with smile.

That youthful spirit Pearce tends to apply to his acting as well. Pearce, who started performing in the mid-'80s on the long-running Australian soap opera “Neighbors,” doesn't like to be precious about performing.

“If I’m hanging on to it all day, it’s exhausting,” Pearce says. “The thing that still exists for me is using our imagination, which is kind of a childlike venture. I think there’s something valuable about that even as adults. I think you can be all ages at all times.”

Pearce compares receiving the script from Corbet to “The Brutalist” to when Christopher Nolan approached him 25 years ago. Both times, he went back to watch the director's earlier films and quickly decided this was an opportunity to pounce at.

In digging into Van Buren, Pearce was guided less by real-life experience than the script. The hardest entry way to the character, he says, was the voice. “Thankfully,” Pearce says, “I’m friends with Danny Huston and he’s got a wonderfully old-fashioned voice.” He and Corbet didn't speak much about the director's hardships on “Vox Lux.”

“I know that it was troubled. Brady is going to have trouble on every film he makes, I reckon, because he is such a visionary,” says Pearce. “I know on this there were producers trying to get him to cut the time down. Of course, all those producers now are going, ‘I was with him all the way.’”

To a certain degree, Pearce says, he doesn't fully understand a performance while he's doing it. He's more likely to understand it fully afterward while watching. Take that “lady of the night scene.” While filming, Pearce felt he was saying that line to put Tóth in his place. “But when I watched it, I went: ‘I’m just telling myself. I’m purely telling myself,’” he says. “There’s something even more distasteful about it.”

It's ironic, in a way, that Van Buren, a man bent on control, is played so indelibly by an actor who seeks to impose so little of it, himself.

“There’s a performative element to Van Buren. He exhausts himself because he’s trying to dominate, to be the one in charge, be Mr. Charming,” Pearce says. “I don’t think he can ever enter a room without being self-conscious. That’s an exhausting way to be, I reckon.”