Did you subscribe to Peacock in order to watch the Wild Card game 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. 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’s been 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 Peacock series Dr. Death. And that after watching these eight episodes, you may never want to go to the doctor again. The limited series is more unnerving than any horror movie.
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. 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’s first season 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 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
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 Rec or Brooklyn Nine-Nine), you’re sure to enjoy Peacock’s latest 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
Killing It
Killing It, a sitcom from Dan Goor and Luke Del Tredici, might sound like a live action riff on The Simpsons’ Snake Whacking Day, but it’s actually based on a real competition in Florida to help reduce the state’s population of wild pythons. In a reverse of the sewer alligators of urban legend, Florida has a real problem with pythons bought as pets being released into the wild once they grow too large and unmanageable; without any natural predators, they’ve overrun the swampland and unsettled the state’s ecological balance. Enter Craig Robinson and Claudia O’Doherty as two well-meaning hunters struggling with debt and unemployment who see the prize money as the way to realize their dreams. If you’ve ever seen either actor before, you know how charming and hilarious they are, and they instantly establish the kind of chemistry every successful comedy needs. They’re joined by Scott MacArthur (of The Righteous Gemstones and The Mick) as an overly competitive YouTube hunting influencer also entering the contest, and stand-up comedian Rell Battle as Robinson’s criminal younger brother who hides his inner pain beneath an unflappable exterior. (Battle’s subplot as an assistant for a get-rich-quick hoaxster played by Tim Heidecker is one of the show’s highlights.)
As ridiculous as “the snake hunting sitcom with the guy from the Pizza Hut ads” might sound, Killing It quickly reveals a serious side in its exploration of class divisions, personal trauma, and economic disparity. It’s one of the few sitcoms I can think of that’s explicitly focused on how our financial system preys on the least fortunate and most at-risk among us, with the true life absurdity of a Florida python hunt as the jumping off point for that discussion. Many comedies with a message hammer on it with a heavy hand, but Killing It explores how difficult life can be for its characters without ever feeling like a lecture or sermon. It’s simply the world they live in and are accustomed to, the backdrop to all the jokes and character moments you expect from a sitcom, and the main reason Killing It is more than just a goofy comedy about killing snakes. —Garrett Martin
Bupkis
One wonders how many times a comedian/actor/writer can sell the same semi-autobiographical story successfully in a slightly different wrapping. But with Peacock’s latest 8-episode comedy series Bupkis, Pete Davidson is two for two so far. After 2020’s The King of Staten Island (which he co-wrote with Judd Apatow and Dave Sirus), the comedian doubles down on his “fictionalized” life in a meta approach that’s stuffed with Hollywood stars playing either one of his relatives or themselves. We follow Davidson (apparently playing a “heightened” version of himself) in Staten Island, living with his mother (played by ex-Mrs. Soprano, a charming Edie Falco) who’s generally worried about him. Pete’s just doing what the Pete Davidsons of the world do on a regular basis: hanging out with his boys, smoking weed, jerking off, taking pills, and having fun in between gigs. His worry-free lifestyle is somewhat interrupted when he learns that his street-wise grandfather, Joe (Pesci), is dying of cancer. This unfolds in a heartfelt conversation between the two, where Joe says that all he wants is to spend more time with his grandson and get to know him better. This serves as a sort of wake-up call for Davidson to change his life, stop being a joke, and act like a man instead of a child. This series shines in both its moments of levity and in its more dramatic elements, and it all works because Davidson has a keen understanding of drawing from his own experiences to dramatize them as both entertaining and meaningful at the same time. Bupkis nails a well-balanced mix of humor, self-awareness, and drama stemming from both reality and fiction, giving us a multi-flavored comedy that goes down easy. —Akos Peterbencze
Girls5eva
Meredith Scardino’s series, which is also executive produced by Tina Fey and Robert Carlock—her bosses from Netflix’s Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt—focuses on the four remaining members of a one-hit wonder ‘90s girl pop group. Thrown together then by a lecherous and demoralizing manager, they had nothing in common, no autonomy over their talents or their bodies, and no idea what they were getting into. They sang songs entitled “Jailbait” and “Dream Girlfriends” (which included lyrics like “We’ve got the kind of birth control that goes in your arm. And tell me again why Tarantino’s a genius”). Now Wickie (Renée Elise Goldsberry), Dawn (Sara Bareilles), Summer (Busy Philipps), and Gloria (Paula Pell) have all but been forgotten by anyone beyond a bored Wikipedia editor—until a chance at a comeback has them taking a second look at where they’ve been and where they’re going.
Girls5eva is a cautionary tale about the era of low-rider jeans and sateen “going out tops”; about a time when young girls were supposed to giggle when their boyfriends compared them to the women in Maxim magazine and didn’t flinch if their professors offered to buy them drinks after class. But it also has a special present for the Gen Xers, late Millennials, Xennials, and anyone else who groks with its commentary on aging and the frustration and rage one can feel over being ignored and underappreciated—especially the frustrations we have with ourselves for not being “better.”—Whitney Friedlander
A Friend of the Family
In constructing a case for how a sensational story could very well be plausible, A Friend of the Family showrunner Nick Antosca (Hulu’s The Act; Candy) attempts to humanize and redeem two overly gullible parents. Jake Lacy stars as Bob Berchtold, a serial predator in 1970s Idaho who became so obsessed with neighbor girl Jan Broberg (Hendrix Yancey as the younger version; McKenna Grace as the older version) that he kidnaps her—twice. Anna Paquin and Colin Hanks play parents Mary Ann and Bob Broberg, who were too sheltered by their insular community to realize that they, themselves, were also Berchtold’s victims. —Whitney Friedlander
Based on a True Story
Based on a True Story, from The Boys’ Craig Rosenberg, follows realtor Ava (Kaley Cuoco) and former tennis star Nathan (Chris Messina), a couple living in LA and struggling to make ends meet in the midst of their failing marriage—all with a baby on the way. However, when a serial killer begins tormenting the LA area, Ava and Nathan decide to take advantage of America’s obsession with murder and exploit their community’s woes for a podcast. Their idea to make their podcast stand out amongst the many true-crime shows flooding the internet? They aim to get the killer on their show, and make them explain why they do what they do. What follows is a series that skewers America’s obsession with true crime and our tendency to immortalize serial killers, and blends dark comedy and unshakable tension to create a high-anxiety series that is an impossible binge to put down. It’s eight episodes of heart-pounding tension, bleak dark comedy, and pitch-perfect lampooning of the true crime industry. Cuoco and Messina are wonderful together, anchoring the series’ more outlandish moments to the chemistry and bond between their characters. As Ava and Nathan fall further and further down the rabbit hole and into more and more dangerous territory, it’s easy to root for them, even when they’re forced to do despicable things. If you love true crime, you’ll love this show; if you hate true crime, you’ll love this show. —Anna Govert
Vampire Academy
Even though The Vampire Diaries universe met an unceremonious end on The CW, its mastermind Julie Plec and former TVDU actress Marguerite MacIntyre are bringing some more hot vampire drama to Peacock to fill the void. Based on a series of books of the same name by Richelle Mead, this is the series’ second chance at adaptation after the spectacular failure of 2014’s Vampire Academy film. The show follows half-vampire Guardian Rose Hathaway (Sisi Stringer) and vampire royalty Lissa Dragomir (Daniela Nieves) as they fight to keep their world protected against Strigoi (a type of feral, unhinged vampire driven only by bloodlust). Reveling in royal intrigue, high school drama, and classic vampire shenanigans, Vampire Academy is the perfect show to sink your teeth into. —Anna Govert
Lost Symbol
The tales of Robert Langdon and his hyper-specific expertise in deciphering ancient symbols captured movie-going audiences in the early 2000s with the The Da Vinci Code, a book-turned-film from author Dan Brown. In it, Langdon, a fictional Harvard University professor, becomes the prime suspect in a murder that only he can solve due to an unusual symbol on the dead body; escapades ensue. Fast forward to 2021 and the Langdon character is back for a new adaptation in The Lost Symbol on Peacock, this time investigating the disappearance of his mentor at the hands of a mysterious tattooed villain. The show, written and co-showrun by Dan Dworkin Jay Beattie, stars Succession’s Ashley Zukerman as an attractive, somehow younger version of the role that Hanks originated.
The series is your typical caper: after being summoned to Washington D.C. under false pretenses, Langdon is thrown into a mystery that requires his specific knowledge and skill. Previous Dan Brown stories have relied heavily on interpretations of ancient Christianity and Catholic tales and symbols while injecting the story with a time-sensitive treasure hunt, and The Lost Symbol is no different. Episodes are fast-paced and engaging, making the series’ new adventures with a familiar character freshly entertaining. —Radhika Menon
Ted
Set in the ‘90s as a prequel to the films of the same name, Peacock’s Ted is a surprisingly delightful watch. Following the titular bear in the aftermath of his Hollywood stardom, Ted showcases the blossoming relationship between Ted and a 16 year-old John Bennett (once played by Mark Wahlberg, now by Max Burkholder) as they navigate high school, family, and the pains of growing up. Coming from creator Seth MacFarlane, the series is filled to the brim with inappropriate humor (of course), an exorbitant amount of weed (naturally), and a walking, talking teddy bear that has the voice of Peter Griffin and the personality of your parents’ worst nightmare (what else did you expect?). But, when Ted allows its heartfelt moments to shine, especially when scene-stealer Blaire (Giorgia Whigham) is on screen, the series balances its juvenile humor with a beating heart, all culminating in a series that is ultimately a breezy and fresh binge watch perfect for those that have seen the original films, while still being accessible to a new audience. —Anna Govert
The Resort
The Resort concocts an ambitious vacation adventure that provides both fast-paced escapism and a meditation on the languid effects of time. For their 10th wedding anniversary, Emma (Cristin Milioti) and Noah (William Jackson Harper) book a stay at a picturesque resort on the Mayan Riviera. Their relationship’s in a lull, and the trip offers the perfect opportunity to reconnect. But while Noah’s content to weather this out, Emma’s crisis has deepened into something more existential. When she stumbles upon a dusty Motorola that belonged to a college kid who disappeared 15 years prior, she decides to investigate the strange case. Part old-fashioned adventure à la Romancing the Stone, part love story, and part off-kilter comedy, the show cuts across two timelines as it unravels the mystery. Not all of The Resort’s ambitions quite land in its short runtime, but to its credit, the show’s confident trek forward also smooths down loose threads. The rapid twists and likable cast make the mystery a diverting watch that doesn’t take long to get into. —Annie Lyons
Poker Face
The deck is heavily stacked in the audience’s favor with Rian Johnson and Natasha Lyonne’s Poker Face, a case-of-the-week “howcatchem” that feels less like an ode to Columbo and more like a gleeful, excited squeal of adoration. Johnson writes and directs the pilot, giving us a welcome return to the darker, restrained type of genre filmmaking he showed in Brick and Looper, which provides an impeccable introduction to the world of Charlie (Lyonne), a nobody who can sniff out when anyone is ever lying. Our perceptive idol still has to slum it across America’s backroads, seemingly drawn to impractical, impossible murders being staged in regional theaters, crummy punk bars, and a militant old folks home. There’s a great deal of texture to the world that a team of capable writers and directors explore, and despite some repetitive structure issues, Poker Face makes us wonder why procedurals like these aren’t on TV year-round. —Rory Doherty
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