Editor's note: Had your fill of year-end and end-of-decade lists? Here's something you probably haven't seen yet—a list of favorites from the first 20 years of the current century. That's right, we're a fifth of the way through the 2000s, so to mark the occasion (and because we're between print issues of Las Vegas Weekly at the moment), for the next few days we'll highlight some of our favorite books, albums and TV shows from 2000-2019, a period that roughly coincides with the history of the Weekly itself. Enjoy, and look for our new issue on racks around town starting on January 9.

GEOFF CARTER

Atlanta (2016-present, FX). Just plain brilliant. This show will cast a long shadow, both for its acting (Bryan Tyree Henry, Lakeith Stanfield and Zazie Beetz) and its behind-the-camera firepower (director Hiro Murai, writers Stefani Robertson and Stephen Glover, and naturally, showrunner Donald Glover). "Teddy Perkins" deserves to be recognized as one of the best scripted and shot episodes in television history.

Barry (2018-present, HBO) I could happily watch disillusioned hitman Barry Berkman (Bill Hader), glib acting teacher Gene Cousineau (Henry Winkler) and upbeat mobster NoHo Hank (Anthony Carrigan) navigating their way through Hollywood for 10 more seasons.

Better Call Saul (2015-present, FX). Initially I didn't believe that a prequel to Breaking Bad, based on that show's slick lawyer Saul Goodman (Bob Odenkirk), would amount to much. Then Michael McKean happened. Jonathan Banks happened. Rhea Seehorn happened. And Odenkirk himself happened, in ways I completely failed to predict. Everything about this show confounds your expectations.

Big Mouth (2017-present, Netflix). Can't talk to your kids about sex? Put on this raunchy but good-hearted animated Netflix show starring Nick Kroll, John Mulaney, Jessi Klein and Jason Mantzoukas. Then flee the room before the questions kick in. The show explains everything, and I mean everything. And it'll make you laugh hard enough to pass out.

Breaking Bad (2008-2013, AMC) Its characters and setting are perfectly constructed. They fit into a part of our imagination that was seemingly built just for them, and impatiently awaited their coming.

Broad City (2014-2019, Comedy Central) It's had its ups-and-downs creatively, but few other comic duos have made me laugh the way Ilana Glazer and Abbi Jacobson have—and fewer still have had a televised friendship that feels this real. To watch this show is to become friends with it.

Community (2009-2015, NBC) Even with its dud of a fourth season—the result of NBC's poor decision to temporarily dismiss showrunner Dan Harmon—perhaps no other show has consistently demonstrated more imagination, more willingness to break the rules of what television is. Its veterans—Donald Glover, Jim Rash, the Russo Brothers, Alison Brie, John Oliver, Harmon—would go on to make even bigger footprints work in both television and film.

Deadwood (2004-2006, 2019, HBO) If all it had given us was Ian McShane as Al Swearengen, that would have been enough. This Shakespearean telling of daily life in a lawless western town contained enough grace to draw unexpected tears, and enough menace to knock Clint Eastwood's teeth out.

Fargo (2014-present, FX) Noah Hawley took only the barest bones of the Coen Brothers' 1996 masterpiece—strange, murderous things happen in the small-town Midwest—and made one of the best anthology shows of all time. Though they're reportedly indifferent to the show, the Coens should be proud that such perfectly formed characters as Lorne Malvo and Mike Milligan are even thinly connected to their work.

Game of Thrones (2011-2019, HBO) Yes, the ending disappointed. But perhaps no ending could have put a satisfying lid on so much spectacle, shock and epic storytelling. And every person who acted on that show deserves an award for taking its abuses, guarding its secrets and ultimately selling even its most batsh*t-crazy plot turns.

Last Week Tonight With John Oliver (2014-present, HBO) Oliver's hilarious weekly newsmagazine draws much of its efficacy from the Jon Stewart-era Daily Show, which produced a bumper-crop of great comedy-news programming (Full Frontal With Samantha Bee, Stephen Colbert's two late-night shows, Larry Wilmore's The Nightly Show and, of course, the current Trevor Noah-led Daily Show). That old Daily Show was the comic salve I needed to get me through recession and political upheaval. Oliver's show is doing the same, only with a level of engagement and commitment that borders on public service. He gets my vote.

Letterkenny (2016-present, Hulu) The wordplay of this Canadian import—available exclusively on Hulu—is so densely laid and contains so many fun twists and turns that I've often had to rewatch episodes immediately to catch all the good stuff. So many of its jokes and idioms have embedded themselves in my daily speech that I probably owe it royalties.

Mad Men (2007-2015, AMC). It scans like a novel—a complex, heart-rending and deeply satisfying work. Nearly every episode contains a textbook's worth of storytelling know-how.

The Mandalorian (2019, Disney+). The first Star Wars television show is simple, weekly Western melodrama—and it's hard not to love it for that. Sometimes you just want to cheer the good guys, boo the bad guys and watch A-list actors and directors interact with the cutest puppet ever made.

The Office [U.S] (2005-2013, NBC). Season after season, this American remake improved on its (also terrific) British cringe-humor antecedent until it reached a kind of comic nirvana. It ended a season too late, but its highs more than compensate for its lows.

Review (2014-2017, Comedy Central) Black comedy doesn't come any darker than this Comedy Central mockumentary series. There's a twisted glee in watching host Forrest MacNeil (a transcendent Andy Daly) level one-to-five star judgments at such real-life experiences as "eating 15 pancakes," "having the perfect body" and "killing a person."

Rick and Morty (2013-present, Adult Swim) Dan Harmon and Justin Roiland's gut-busting animated black comedy is one of the few shows on television that feels like it could tear loose and wreak havoc. Nothing about it can be predicted; little about it can be explained. Just admire it, and try not to get Cronenberged.

The Thick of It (2005-2012, BBC) I'm a sucker for larger-than-life characters, and this British political comedy made one of the biggest in Malcolm Tucker (Peter Capaldi)—a quick-witted, acid-tongued Godzilla who levels bureaucratic incompetency with his profane and poetic tirades. Showrunner Armando Iannucci would go on to create HBO's equally funny Veep, but there's something about Tucker that feels self-made, and unstoppable.

The Venture Bros. (2004-present, Adult Swim) What began as a goof on Johnny Quest became a hilarious, ongoing chronicle of hubris and male inadequacy, and still later a clever refutation of the kind of toxic fan behavior that has ruined genre entertainment for everybody. Even in its seventh season, it can still surprise you.

Watchmen (2019, HBO) Another thing I couldn't predict: How could a "remix" of Alan Moore and Dave Gibbon's Watchmen comic achieve a level of brilliance and brutality that so closely approximated the source material? Yet it did, and it stuck the landing. There's not an ounce of fat on this self-contained season.

KEN MILLER

Arrested Development (2003-2006, Fox; 2013-present, Netflix) Yes, there have been hiccups in Seasons 4 and 5, but this still stands as the funniest show of the past 20 years. It could be the most-quoted television comedy of all time ("We finish each other's sandwiches," "Well, that was a freebie," "Her?") and the smartest. Tobias' license plate alone is a sight gag that will have you laughing for the rest of your life.

Barry (2018-present, HBO) A master class in black comedy, courtesy of a career-defining performance by Bill Hader as an assassin who would much rather be a method actor. Way too many unforgettable moments to count, including all of Season 2's Episode 5.

Battlestar Galactica (2003-2009, Sci-Fi) If I ever decide to make an all-time top 10 list, this will be in the top 5. One of the best casts ever creates a microcosm of the world in space better than Star Trek ever could. A show that rewards your attention to detail and never dumbs down its message.

Better Call Saul (2015-present, FX) I'll admit it, I was one of many who scoffed at a Breaking Bad prequel featuring Walter White's skillful attorney, Saul Goodman. But not only does this show not disgrace its progenitor, it stands on its own as one of the best shows of the 2010s. As Jimmy McGill gradually descends into the persona of Saul, we're glued to every moment. Funny, heartbreaking and at times exciting, this is a spinoff done right.

Breaking Bad (2008-2013, AMC) Hard to see how this wouldn't be on everyone's list, but that's no excuse. The best show ever made, Breaking Bad told its shattering morality tale perfectly over five seasons, and gave us some of the most indelible characters ever. I have a feeling they could make a spinoff of Skinny Pete and Badger and people would watch—and love—it.

Chernobyl (2019, HBO) For those who can make it through some of the most horrific imagery ever televised, this is a miniseries to shape a generation with its indictment of the cost of secrecy and lies. HBO can't win enough awards for this.

Deadwood (2004-2006, 2019, HBO) It's a testament to the mind of David Milch that he could make a show with such vile characters and some of the saltiest language ever and somehow create something absolutely fresh and profound (given the show's dialect, repeat screenings are practically mandatory.) Unfortunately, Milch somehow decided to abandon this show so he could give us John From Cincinnati. The world is sometimes a cruel place.

Fargo (2014-present, FX) If you're a Coen Brothers fan, this FX series is an absolute treat. While its storylines don't replicate any of the movies (including Fargo, amusingly), the show plays like a "greatest hits" version of the Coens' directorial touches, from certain camera shots to dialogue (and dialect) to editing. But it's far from just a Coen tribute; Fargo stands on its own as an exceptional crime series.

Hannibal (2013-2015, NBC) The darkest series you'll ever see on network television, Hannibal pulled no punches in bringing the tale of serial killer Lecter's exploits to the small screen (courtesy of showrunner Bryan Fuller, who was not allowed to complete his vision due to low ratings). Some of the show's visuals and other content would be considered too strong even for HBO. A (short-lived) triumph of vision over profit margins.

Horace and Pete (2016, louisck.net) If Eugene O'Neill wrote a script for a '70s tragicomedy, the result might be something like Horace and Pete, Louis C.K.'s devastating look at the most dysfunctional family ever to hit the small screen. This isn't easy stuff to watch (you'll feel like you need a hug after every episode), but it's absolutely unforgettable and features world-class performances from Steve Buscemi, Edie Falco and Alan Alda.

Last Week Tonight With John Oliver (2014-present, HBO) OK, so this man does not know how to end a show. But lucky for him, the rest of this weekly half-hour is comedy gold, especially when he goes outside the box (and the studio) to seriously f*ck with some of the people he covers, including an absolutely legendary musical number in honor of coal mining bigwig Bob Murray.

Louie (2010-2015, FX) Louis C.K. produced and starred in one of the most unique and unpredictable half-hours of television every week for FX. For an opening segment alone in which he and his poker buddies talk to a gay friend about the use of a particularly horrible slur, the show deserves a place in the TV Hall of Fame.

Medium (2005-2009, NBC; 2009-2011, CBS) One of the most inventive and well-acted dramas of the past 20 years, Medium stood alone with its cryptic intros and "aha!" reveals, not to mention its amazing depiction of a normal family doing normal-family stuff. At times terrifying, at times cry-your-eyes out emotional, this is a show that many have still to discover. I envy them.

Making a Murderer (2015-present, Netflix) Forget Stranger Things, Black Mirror and Orange Is the New Black; this Netflix documentary is one the best things to come out on any streaming service in recent memory. It paints an incontrovertible picture of how quickly the justice system can fail any one of us. Anyone who saw this and wasn't scared sh*tless doesn't have a pulse.

The Mentalist (2008-2015, CBS) As police procedurals go, this one benefited from one of the best star turns of the past 20 years. Simon Baker was magnetic as a charlatan mentalist employed by the California Bureau of Investigation so he can track down the man who killed his wife and child. His effortless charm worked perfectly as a foil to the cesspool of humanity he encountered on a weekly basis. His supporting cast wasn't too shabby, either. I want a spinoff with Cho. Make it happen.

Rick and Morty (2013-present, Adult Swim) I think the best television makes you look at the world differently, and no show has changed my viewpoint more than Rick and Morty, which didn't just ask whether there's an alternate universe, but how many. Its cast of characters seemed tossed off at first but has become as vital to the show as … well, Pickle Rick.

Survivor (1997-present, CBS) The only reality show that matters, Survivor continues its social experiment into its 40th season next year, and it never gets old. Unfortunately Season 39, with its #MeToo events, put a bit of tarnish on the whole enterprise (this from a network still reeling from Les Moonves), but nothing will ever be better than Russell vs. Rob from Heroes vs. Villains. For all kinds of reasons my go-to show now and for years to come.

The Office [U.K.] (2001-2003, BBC) Yes, the NBC series had more than its share of memorable moments. But Ricky Gervais' groundbreaking series gave us all we needed in just two excruciatingly awkward seasons. The character arcs felt real and earned, and love or hate Gervais' blowhard David Brent, you felt his pain and confusion in the series finale as he reaps what he sows. "Don't make me redundant" is one of the most heartbreaking lines ever uttered in a TV show. NBC never reached that moment once. Not even close.

The Shield (2002-2008, FX) I feel sorry for Kurt Sutter and Michael Chiklis. Sutter because he'll never create a better show than this look at a Los Angeles police unit headed by a terrifyingly corrupt cop. And Chiklis because he'll never be remembered as anything but Vic Mackey, that corrupt cop. A savage show that created some of television's most defining moments.

Watchmen (2019, HBO) I almost stopped watching this HBO series after Episode 1, because I was completely confused, not to mention it didn't seem to have much connection to my favorite graphic novel of all time. Luckily, someone who had received screeners told me to stick with it. Thank Dr. Manhattan I did, because it became one of the most addictive and spellbinding shows I've seen in the past few years. Hands down my favorite show of 2019.