Did you subscribe to Peacock in order to watch a single program and now want to get the most out of that subscription? Or are you a day one Peacock fan just looking for your next series to watch? Well, you’re in luck, because we’ve rounded up the best originals Peacock has to offer, all included with any paid subscription tier.
In comparison to its streaming peers, Peacock is fiercely middle of the road when it comes to original content. It doesn’t boast a sprawling library of ambitious originals like Netflix or feature long-running hits like Prime Video, but there are some real gems hidden amongst the smattering of stuff that comes with a Peacock subscription (WWE Premium Events, NFL games, and Five Nights at Freddy’s, to name a few).
From the critical and commercial gem Poker Face to the raunchy Ted, Peacock’s hits are almost as frequent as their misses, but when they work, they’re absolutely must-watch shows. We’ve waded though the wild Peacock jungle to separate out those misses from the undeniable hits so you don’t have to, and have listed out the best originals to watch on NBC’s platform.
The Amber Ruffin Show
The Amber Ruffin Show immediately established itself as one of the funniest shows in late night when it first launched on Peacock in 2020. It helps that the show is nothing but comedy—no guest interviews, no bands, just a monologue and comedy sketches featuring writer/performer Amber Ruffin. If you’ve seen her on Late Night with Seth Meyers, you know how charming and disarming Ruffin can be—she’s almost preternaturally cheerful, using that effervescence as cover for precision strikes against racism, systemic oppression, and the many indignities and traumas of the Trump age. That contrast works wonderfully during her brief appearances on Late Night, and she was able to scale it out for her half-hour show without undermining it at all. —Garrett Martin
Dr. Death
Whatever you think you know about the medical field will be upended by the series Dr. Death. And that after watching the show, you may never want to go to the doctor again. The series is more unnerving than any horror movie.
The first season of Dr. Death follows the true story of Dr. Christopher Duntsch (Joshua Jackson), a Dallas neurosurgeon who horrendously botched surgeries, leaving his patients heinously maimed or, in a few cases, dead. Among his transgressions: he sliced vocal cords, left sponges inside people’s bodies, cut into muscles and nerves instead of bone. Wanting to cover their own you-know-whats, his employers passed him on from hospital to hospital with letters of recommendations carefully crafted by their legal departments. Finally, two doctors—neurosurgeon Robert Henderson (Alec Baldwin) and vascular surgeon Randall Kirby (Christian Slater)—made it their personal mission to stop him.
The writing, directing, and performances combine to make a taunt eight hours of TV, one that you will most likely quickly binge your way through (so you can quickly begin watching Season 2). You’ll also be left with the unsettling knowledge that this is a true story, that this could and probably will happen again. That it could happen to you. You might even be inspired to suddenly start eating right, getting your eight hours of sleep every night, and making sure to drink water and exercise regularly…. —Amy Amatangelo
Saved By the Bell
A new Max is back, as the retro after-school hangout spot frequented by the latest Bayside High class—a class which includes not only a core trio of white kids from Bayside’s Pacific Palisades neighborhood (Zack, Kelly, and Jessie’s kids included), but also a trio of Black and and Latinx kids who are forced to bus in from a lower income neighborhood after their own school gets defunded following a $10 billion budgeting ruh-roh by that irascible bleach-blonde scammer, Zack Morris—these days better known as (sigh) Governor Zack.
Enter: Saved by the Bell. Well, Saved by the Bell 2.0. The original talent is (almost) all on hand—stars Elizabeth Berkley, Mario Lopez, Mark-Paul Gosselaar, Tiffani Thiessen and even Lark Voorhies all reprise their original roles (as does Ed Alonzo as the Max’s titular Max), while Berkley, Lopez, and Gosselaar join SBTB vets Peter Engel and Franco Bario as producers (the latter three as EPs). The dope af theme remix is here, too, rapper Lil Yachty putting a solid Gen Z twist on Scott Gale’s iconic surf-slacker jam. But while ’90s-era Saved by the Bell was a goofball sitcom of the sturdiest variety, Peacock’s Saved by the Bell is pure 2020. Gone is the old school multi-cam format, the live studio audience. In their place is a slick single-camera comedy that—barring a smart pivot back to the original theme song and tone for the Homecoming/reunion episode halfway through the season—will feel far more at home alongside Peacock’s other high school sitcom, A.P. Bio, than anyone trying to imagine a post-Peak TV take on Saved by the Bell is likely to believe.
To that end, it’s nearly impossible to articulate just how impressive the high wire act is that showrunner Tracey Wigfield (Great News, The Mindy Project) is walking here. Not only has she managed to split the difference between a love letter to and send-up of Bobrick’s beloved original, but she’s also succeeded at updating the show’s vibe to hew more closely to the politically progressive, wryly self-aware tone endemic to contemporary Teen TV. I can’t count the number of times I squawked so loud I rose half off my couch each episode. —Alexis Gunderson
The Traitors
In Peacock’s The Traitors, a varying group of contestants—many “Faithful” and a few hand-selected “Traitors”—come together in Alan Cumming’s incredible Scotland castle to vie for a cash prize that they have to earn along the way through physically and intellectually challenging competitions. And all the while, the Faithfuls desperately try to banish the Traitors at their daily roundtables before the Traitors meet at the witching hour to decide which Faithful they would like to “murder” next. The show is effortlessly entertaining and has been a smashing success, with the first season of the hit reality competition series bringing together 10 celebrities and 10 “regular” folks to battle it out for the cash prize. The second season already dips into the “all-star” game with an entirely celebrity cast that doesn’t work nearly as well, but this series is still a juicy good time filled with pitch-perfect reality competition drama. —Jay Snow
We Are Lady Parts
“Own your freakiness, before it owns you.” So rings the declaration of Muslim mother, fierce bassist, and indomitably sweet spirit Bisma (Faith Omole). While she serves it as a piece of encouragement to the perpetually nervous, stage fright-ridden, but dorkily charismatic Amina (Anjana Vasan), it could easily translate to a subheading for Peacock’s new raucous musical comedy series.
Documenting the accidental (but transformational) addition of the sometimes hapless, staunchly buttoned-up microbiology PhD student Amina to an all-woman, devoutly Muslim British punk band that takes delight in shredding the ears of its disapproving audiences, creator Nida Manzoor’s series revels in the same tone of cathartic outrage as its titular band’s riot grrl, punk, and heavy metal idols. With instantly lovable characters who practically bathe in anxiety around their interpersonal relationships, played by a cast of delightfully excitable performers who thrive in the series’ melodramatic, stylized interludes, the show is a combination of loud joy, anger, and terror that is especially well-suited for an audience facing the challenges of coming into their own, or coming out themselves.
In addition to a genuinely exciting soundtrack and brilliant bits of silliness in each episode, the series also sets itself apart by making the girls’ repeated screw-ups a necessary launch pad on the road to DIY stardom. In its Season 1 finale rendition of “We Are the Champions,” there’s little doubt that no matter how often they get knocked down, the girls will keep rumbling, and continue to fine-tune their freakiness through encouragement and raw enthusiasm of their sisterhood. —Shayna Warner
Mrs. Davis
Peacock’s Mrs. Davis, from Lost alum Damon Lindelof and starring Betty Gilpin as Sister Simone, is a complicated exploration of faith, belief, and the love that passeth understanding all wrapped up in a story that includes everything from jaded magicians, a ship-wrecked scientist, and jam-making nuns to a quest for the Holy Grail and a very literal relationship with Jesus Christ—this show is, no joke, like nothing you’ve ever seen before. In a television landscape fully stocked with procedurals and reboots of familiar IPs, it’s rare to find something that’s genuinely ambitious, a show that feels so bonkers you can’t actually believe a network somewhere actually greenlit it, that you know from the jump won’t be for everyone but that will deeply impact the people it connects with in unexpectedly meaningful ways. Mrs. Davis is absolutely that show—its heavy religious themes, non-linear timeline, and genre-defying narrative swerves are the definition of “high concept” and also “extremely extra” depending on who you’re asking. While the plot of this series is almost impossible to explain, its simultaneous ridiculousness and earnestness make for an incredibly fun, global romp that believes in faith, love, and humanity more than anything else. —Lacy Baugher Milas
A.P. Bio
Few shows illustrate the fundamental problems with broadcast TV in the 21st century better than A.P. Bio. Mike O’Brien’s hilarious sitcom ran for two seasons on NBC, and despite good reviews and a great cast (including Patton Oswalt, It’s Always Sunny’s Glenn Howerton, and SNL writer Paula Pell), it barely made a dent in the pop culture consciousness. It didn’t get the audience a network show needs to stay alive, but it also didn’t get the hype and word-of-mouth buzz that seems to be lavished exclusively on streaming or pay cable shows these days. It was a show stuck between audiences—the people who would most love it never saw it because they’ve largely tuned broadcast out, and the people who still regularly watch the legacy networks didn’t vibe with its slightly surreal tone or surface-level cynicism. That’s a shame, because A.P. Bio is one of the funniest, sweetest, and most charming sitcoms in years.
Thankfully, the show got another chance to win people over when it moved Peacock. And it lost nothing in the transition to streaming. There is a long list of reasons why this show is so good. Beyond obvious strengths like the cast and the writing, probably the two most foundational elements to the show’s success are its tone and its setting. A.P. Bio immediately established its own unique voice, one that trickily dances between seemingly opposite notes. And by setting it in a high school, a setting rife with comic potential that’s weirdly underexplored by sitcoms, it found a backdrop almost everybody is familiar with but that hasn’t been done to death. —Garrett Martin
Mr. Throwback
Mr. Throwback, Peacock’s newest mockumentary series, stars Adam Pally as Danny, a broke, divorced sports memorabilia store-owning father with a complicated relationship with basketball. While in middle school, he was the star of the team coached by his father, Mitch (Tracy Letts), until a scandal upended the rest of his life. Warming the bench for Danny was sixth-grade Steph Curry. In need of cash, Danny decides to visit Steph (who plays himself) after an NBA game. What ensues rekindles their friendship, but not without Danny having to sell a story that may or may not be true. At first glance, the premise of Mr. Throwback sounds a bit much—another poorly written athlete-centered drama at best, a glorified commercial at worst. But Pally and his co-creators—David Caspe, Matthew Libman, and Daniel Libman—give the show a self-awareness of the spectacle that plays to its benefit. While Mr. Throwback falls short of classics like The Office and Parks and Recreation, it is a warm, resonant, and funny show. —Will DiGravio
Rutherford Falls
Rutherford Falls has all the makings of a typical Michael Schur sitcom: a catchy little jingle of a theme song, with mirrored musical interludes sprinkled into the story; topical pop culture references; an endearing slew of quirky characters; workplace banter. If you’ve even remotely enjoyed the comedies that have come before it (like Parks and Recreation or Brooklyn Nine-Nine), you’re sure to enjoy Peacock’s addition to the bunch. The concept blends a traditional workplace comedy with deeper, more dramatic topics surrounding colonialism, Indigenous land, and, of course, “cancel culture”—all of which, when tossed around with clumsy humor, can land like a rotten egg on linoleum. Fortunately, with quick-witted writing and easy-going performances, Rutherford Falls opens unsuspecting, nuanced discussions on the once-fraught subjects.
The most controversial aspect about watching Rutherford Falls? You’ll have to subscribe to Peacock, although the NBC platform houses most of Schur’s other series. If that bounty hasn’t seduced you yet, let Rutherford Falls be the straw that breaks the camel’s back: it may not be perfect, but it’s more than worthy of a friendly stream. In other words, best to get started now, in case it hits the masses like a true protege of The Office or Parks and Rec might. —Fletcher Peters
