Babylon Berlin (Sky Atlantic) For season four, the most successful German TV drama ever made increasingly plunged the viewer into darkness. As the neo-noir crime show’s tale of Weimar-era Berlin grew ever closer to the advent of Nazi rule, lead detective Gereon Rath infiltrated the organisation in plots that became ever more menacing, while the wreckage of the 1929 financial crash destroyed lives all around him. More than ever, there was a desperate, poignant edge to the cabaret debauchery, as it became a refuge from the terrifying world outside, and this series served up 10 episodes of utterly gripping television. The Puppet Master: Hunting the Ultimate Conman (Netflix) This year there were no shortage of zeitgeisty Netflix documentaries about horrific crimes: The Tinder Swindler, Jimmy Savile: A British Horror Story, The Most Hated Man on the Internet – the list goes on. But for some reason, one of the platform’s finest pieces of true-crime storytelling largely flew under the radar. In three slick, pacy, often baffling episodes The Puppet Master: Hunting the Ultimate Conman leapt back and forth across four decades as it told the tale of the Britons who succumbed to the coercive control of a conman. From ex-students who spent years touring the country and paying to hide in “safehouses” due to a fictional IRA threat, to the mother who was turned against her own children, this was a show often too wild to believe. No wonder it’s being turned into a movie with Happy Valley’s James Norton as the titular villain. All The Way Up/Validé (StudioCanal Presents) Almost certainly the best French hip-hop drama that you will never see, this criminally underwatched show dropped not one but two series this year. The first one, following upcoming MC Clément (AKA Apash) was a gripping underdog tale packed with killer musical numbers – as well as a finale that is possibly the most jaw-dropping moment of TV to air in 2022. While the plot of a follow-up series focusing on female rapper Sara (AKA L’alpha) might have lacked the pace of its first outing, it nonetheless sent the head-nodding hookiness of the rap numbers into the stratosphere, while wrestling insightfully with the pressures on female artists in hip-hop. Then Barbara Met Alan (BBC Two) Spiky, funny, moving: this 70-minute drama about real-life disability rights activist Barbara Lisicki (Ruth Madeley) and her partner Alan Holdsworth (Arthur Hughes) had it all. The swaggering punk spirit the pair brought to their campaign to pass the 1995 Disability Discrimination Act – including disabled activists bringing central London to a standstill by handcuffing themselves to buses – suffused a show that was driven by Madeley’s fourth wall-busting monologues. As things ramped up, and the joyful anarchy that led to a piece of landmark legislation being passed reached a crescendo, we were presented with scenes that cleverly blended archive news footage with drama – a cracking way to really hit home the impact of an incredible movement. Floodlights (BBC Two) A feature-length drama about the Barry Bennell sexual abuse scandal in football might have seemed like a hard sell. And of course, Floodlights was gruelling, frequently upsetting viewing. But it was incredibly valuable too; documenting the remarkable courage of Bennell’s victim-turned-whistleblower Andy Woodward as he wrestled with his past and then, in his early 40s, found the strength to share his story with the world. Max Fletcher and Gerard Kearns do a remarkable job of bringing Woodward to life while Jonas Armstrong is startling and authentically repulsive as Bennell. A tough journey but one worth taking. Ramy (Channel 4) Just in case the first series of this razor-sharp, hilariously wry comedy about a feckless millennial US Muslim wasn’t distinctive enough, it added a multi Oscar winner to its cast for its second outing. Mahershala Ali’s comedically heavyweight turn as sheikh Malik saw him descend from a hugely charismatic presence with the patience of a saint to, ultimately, thrumming with barely restrained menace as he struggled to avoid physically attacking the infuriatingly self-centred titular character. It was the standalone episodes that took the focus off the main character that were the highlight, though. By putting the spotlight on Ramy’s mother’s quest to gain US citizenship, and his sister’s attempts to explore sexual liberation, it took a welcome, funny and moving look at something its first series needed more of – a female-centric perspective on life as a Muslim in the US. My Name is Leon (BBC Two) This feature-length adaptation of Kit de Waal’s novel was a heartbreaker, telling the story of a nine-year-old mixed-race boy growing up in care in Birmingham. Cole Martin gave such a mature and beautiful performance as Leon, capturing the confusion, hope and devastation of a boy who just wants to be reunited with his mum and baby brother. So real did it feel that you’ve never wanted to reach into your TV screen to give a character a hug so badly. The Baby (Sky Atlantic) This was such a bizarre concept that fully leaning into it was the only option. Natasha (Michelle de Swarte) is fed up with all her friends having babies – until, one night, a demon baby literally falls into her arms. It turns out that the baby is cursed and causes the death of people around Natasha, and so the baby had to die. Sounds pretty screwed up, right? But it turned out to be a black comedy that also boldly unpicked complex issues around motherhood that usually go unspoken – from the friendships between mothers and childfree women, to how so many women constantly think they’re “doing it wrong” when it comes to having kids. Station Eleven (Starzplay) This drama about the early days of a pandemic ravaging the planet had supermarket hoarders, extreme lockdowns and mass hospital panic – and yet it somehow wasn’t too trauma-inducing to race through. Based on Emily St John Mandel’s suspiciously prescient bestselling novel from 2014, it showed a vision of society rebuilding itself that was beautiful but still kept up the intrigue and pace of a thriller. Brought to us by Patrick Somerville of The Leftovers fame, it is right up there with some of the most thoughtful, hopeful and heart-rending television ever aired. Life After Life (BBC Two) Fans of Kate Atkinson’s time-loop novel had high expectations for this BBC adaptation, and it went on to exceed them. Thomasin McKenzie was perfectly cast as Ursula Todd, a girl who is born again in 1910 each time she dies. With each life iteration, we see Ursula get another shot, learning from a gut-feeling that she has experienced things before. In one life, for example, she is beaten up by her abusive husband, but in the next she embraces sexual liberation and doesn’t just settle. It’s a beautifully and thoughtfully produced drama, showing a whole library of great stories that one person has the potential to live. Paper Girls (Prime Video) Being compared to Netflix smash hit Stranger Things was always going to work against this sci-fi show with a high school cast – but it was still great fun, with ace performances from young female actors and the brilliant Ali Wong. Based on a comic novel, the story followed four teenage papergirls who find themselves transported to the future and accidentally involved in a time war. As well as embarking on an action-packed sci-fi adventure, the girls tackled personal issues such as race, class, expectations and starting their periods (the scene in which they discuss tampons is so, so good: “I don’t think you can quit your period.”) Minx (Paramount+) This wonderfully warm, 70s-set sitcom about Joyce (Ophelia Lovibond, fresh from having played Carrie Johnson in Michael Winterbottom’s This England), the wannabe editor of a feminist magazine who winds up running a porn magazine for women was not for the faint-hearted. The first episode alone saw more penises than a sexual health clinic shift worker, showcasing a no-nonsense attitude, that – even if it could have done more to take the magazine’s cocksure male publisher down a peg or two – was a breezy, feminist blast. And no matter how shocking all the male appendages might have been, at least they weren’t as offputting as something else Lovibond shared screen time with this year – a Boris Johnson impersonation. Ladhood (BBC Three) Any socially mobile millennial who has moved to London will have instantly connected with Liam Williams’ brilliant autobiographical comedy when it launched in 2019. For this third and final series, Williams really dug into reconciling his adult life with his working-class roots – and learning how to best shape his future. It also unflinchingly delved into male mental health and relationships, creating incredibly honest moments – all while using incredibly funny writing and brilliant characters including the philosophical Tinhead. Anyone Can Sing (Sky Arts) There was something so unexpectedly refreshing and sweet about this show in which a group of completely tone-deaf people learn how to sing an opera with the help of three vocal coaches. They weren’t in it for five minutes of fame, a pop at a new career or to up their Instagram followers – each person just really hoped to do something they could be proud of, such as Ellen the priest, who wants to be able to sing with her church, and Luke who has Tourette syndrome and yearns to sing for his fiance. They really were terrible vocalists, and yet the finale performance on stage in front of a full theatre was an absolute tearjerker. This article was amended on 26 December 2022. An earlier version misnamed the show Anyone Can Sing as “Anybody Can Sing”.