Brooklyn Nine-Nine
I adore every character and every part of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. The cast has no weak links, and they work together as smoothly and happily as you could hope. The jokes come quickly, the tone is just right, the occasional emotional moment is handled well, and it rarely feels off. You can watch it over and over and enjoy it every time. All this, plus Doug Judy too. I love it. From the cold opens to the tidy resolution 22 minutes later, it offers me a complete escape from worries. Nine-nine!
—Lucy Mangan
Absolutely Fabulous
On her podcast Good Hang, Amy Poehler talks about how laughing physically can make you feel less hopeless. Watching Jennifer Saunders and Joanna Lumley, drunk on Bolly and tumbling out of cars, is my safe haven in an emotional storm. Absolutely Fabulous might not be soft and cozy (I’d argue its humor seems even sharper over time), but I know almost every line by heart. Rereading a beloved book is soothing because you know what’s coming next, but for me, it’s the sharp one-liners in Ab Fab. Oh, you little bitch troll from hell…
—Rebecca Nicholson
I’m Alan Partridge
How many times have I watched the first, brilliant series of I’m Alan Partridge? Enough to leave me helpless around big plates and farmers; certainly enough to instill a seemingly endless desire to take apart a Corby trouser press. The familiarity of each re-watch brings more comfort than I can express; every embarrassment (Alan knocked out by a dead cow), every crushing moment of self-humiliation (“Can I just shock you? I like wine”) is a synaptic Pringle of joy. Aha!
—Sarah Dempster
The Good Place
Mike Schur consistently pulls off a brilliant trick: creating comedy dramas that are clever and adventurous while also feeling as indulgent and comforting as a blanket and a hot chocolate. This gift reached its peak in this snarky yet redemptive afterlife epic. The Good Place is a dizzyingly inventive journey through the history of human belief systems that never forgets what makes life worth living—love, laughter, friendship, and hope. And the chemistry among the five lead actors is so cheerful and effortless that it feels like hanging out with friends without leaving your sofa.
—Phil Harrison
University Challenge
I know it might seem odd—and it probably makes many (most?) viewers feel less intellectual—but the deep joy I get from University Challenge is boundless. On Monday nights, I settle in to watch the great minds of tomorrow show off their brilliance, and I’m always left feeling that society might not be completely doomed. I laugh when I don’t understand the questions (every single math starter), and I love it when I know answers they don’t (pretty much any question about pop music or literature by women). These days, my daughter cheers when I get questions right. I’ll cheer even louder the first time she gets one.
—Kate Abbott
Great News
The finest comedy you will ever see…
—Tina Fey as Diana and Andrea Martin as Carol in Great News.I could happily watch Great News on a loop for the rest of my life. This absurdist, Tina Fey-produced cable news sitcom features at least two of the finest comedy performances you’ll ever see. Andrea Martin is breathlessly full-tilt as a retirement-age intern, while John Michael Higgins’s anchor, Chuck Pierce, is a blowhard for the ages. The show should be too broad to work, but every episode is so packed with jokes of every imaginable style that it soars. Every time I watch it, I get angry that only 23 episodes were ever made. After a couple of months, the anger subsides and I just start it over again.
Perhaps it’s the memory of my mum laughing on a Friday night, glass of red wine in hand, at the farcical antics of those two buffoonish intellectuals, Frasier and Niles Crane. But this sitcom always banishes the blues. From Frasier’s great injustices and ego trips to Niles’s descriptions of his absent wife, Maris, and the endless misunderstandings that land them in trouble, it cracks me up every time. More tender moments between the brothers and their ex-cop father, Marty—who has no time for their snobby ways—give the show a big heart, too. The jazzy theme tune I must sing loudly, the log fire in that dreamy Seattle penthouse, the coffee shop, Eddie the dog… Thank God there are 264 episodes.
I’ve used cookery programmes as a pacifier all my life, so enthusiastically that four of my daughter’s first words were Jamie, Nigella, and Mary Berry. Jamie Oliver, though, is the ultimate comfort TV chef. I would watch him cook anything. Seeing him tug aubergines from the gardens of his Essex mansion and hero them in a roast chicken is like a guided meditation for me. I can’t get enough of his knife skills. Every time he says “epic,” I feel my heart rate slow. And don’t get me started on my love for his dog, Conker.
It’s no coincidence that I started watching RuPaul’s Drag Race UK in 2020, when cozy viewing felt essential. Since then, it’s become my go-to for lazy Sundays, sick days, and cold winter evenings—an easy pop of feelgood fun. The repetitive structure feels reassuring; the baffling catchphrases are oddly soothing. And, amid a fair amount of shade-throwing, there’s always a smattering of touching backstories, an underdog to root for, and makeup to die for.
It is a central pillar of Netflix lore: a city woman (in this case, nurse Mel) moves to a rural town and meets an impossibly handsome local (bar owner and former marine Jack), and we all know what happens next. But the main draw of this incomprehensibly paced soap opera is Charmaine, a woman whose pregnancy seems to last longer than an elephant’s.The show “Virgin River” moves at a surprisingly fast pace. Over the five seasons it takes for her pregnancy to reach full term, we witness a fire nearly destroy the town, the local doctor go blind and then recover his sight, the mayor get ousted, replaced, and reinstated, and the local marijuana operation transform into a fentanyl pipeline—only to be shut down by the FBI. It’s glorious, wonderful trash.
I can’t remember the first time I saw Monica, Rachel, Phoebe, Joey, Ross, and Chandler. As a child of the ’90s, the seminal sitcom “Friends” was always on in my house. My memories of them are almost as old as those of my mother, their biggest fan. As a teenager, I watched the entire series on DVD, longing for adult freedom. As an adult, I rewatched it all on Netflix, longing to go back. Now, I watch it seeking something more intangible: familiarity, a reliable escape. The friends’ impossibly large New York apartments are a world and several eras away from my own. Yet something about Central Perk, Chanandler Bong, “Pivot!”, and those two purple doors across the hall will always, always feel like home.
From the very first note of its heartwarming ’90s theme tune, “Due South” puts me in a state of bliss. Don’t question me about this tale of a Canadian Mountie’s adventures with a loudmouthed Chicago cop. Yes, it’s silly that he solves crimes through sheer kindness and, somewhat troublingly, by licking random pieces of evidence. But it’s often hilarious, and the friendship at its core is genuinely touching. Plus, it featured early roles for Mark Ruffalo, Carrie-Anne Moss, and Ryan Phillippe, and its creator, Paul Haggis, later became an Oscar-winning screenwriter. It’s cozy TV with credentials.
It always makes me laugh that “Lovesick” was once called “Scrotal Recall.” Despite its unfortunate original title, this sharp romantic comedy has great fun with its premise: Johnny Flynn’s Dylan discovers he has chlamydia and must contact all his past partners. This leads to hilariously awkward encounters, endless antics with his friends (Daniel Ings as his best friend Luke is a comedic force), and a will-they-won’t-they romance between Dylan and Evie (Antonia Thomas) that burns even brighter than Ross and Rachel’s. It’s a beautifully written show that explores the messiness of love and the strength of friendship, and it’s a regular in my rewatch rotation. It’s perfect comfort TV—heartwarming, moving, and wrapped in a cozy blanket of non-stop laughs.
When I was an unkissed teenager, “Sex and the City” offered the thrilling promise of future dates and romance. When I lived in New York just after the show ended, it provided the only relatable reflection of the city as it was then (I miss those on-location Manhattan shoots). When I later lived in London, it felt like an old friend, a bittersweet reminder of a place and a life I missed. Now, back in New York, it feels more like a historical document, both of the city and of my own youth. The show ended long ago, but life always gives me new reasons to rewatch a series with such electric energy that, even years later, it still feels thrillingly alive.Pingu is thrillingly alive. You can’t beat a burst of Pingu on his YouTube channel. This mischievous, shapeshifting penguin—now stretched out, now flattened, now deploying that ferocious trumpet-like beak—is fabulously irritable yet cheeringly irrepressible. Each chilly escapade in this winter wonderland, from sleighing to fishing to snowball fights, is warmly observed. The episode where his little sister Pinga is born is a three-minute primer for growing families. Plus, as the ultimate comfort, there’s no dialogue to follow. Apart from Robby the Seal’s occasional honk, the story is mostly told in the nonsense language of Penguinese. Moot moot!
My severe case of eldest daughter syndrome—also known as type-A control freakery paired with a pathological sense of duty—has left me with a paradox: I can only truly relax when I’m doing something constructive, or at least when I can convince myself that I am. Enter the cookery show. Let me gaze absently upon Nigella’s sumptuously well-stocked larder, the pared-back perfection of Nigel Slater’s kitchen garden, or the serene order of Mary Berry’s countertop, all while feeling assured that I’m passively absorbing useful advice about preparing noodle soup or the perfect chocolate cake. What could be more productive?
I remember almost every major gag in Arrested Development—they’re too good to forget—and yet every time I watch it, I laugh as if it’s the first time all over again. The meta misfortunes of the Bluth family, which includes a banged-up patriarch, a son-in-law with a humiliation kink, a group of dysfunctional siblings, and, as we’re told, “the one son who had no choice but to keep them all together,” are frequently absurd but totally brilliant. Steer clear of the awful Netflix reboot, resist the urge to paint yourself blue like Tobias Fünke, and you’re bound to have a ton of fun.
Frequently Asked Questions
Of course Here is a list of FAQs about finding comfort TV shows to help you feel better
General Beginner Questions
Q What exactly is a comfort TV show
A Its a show you rewatch that feels familiar safe and uplifting Its like a warm blanket for your mindeasy to watch and guaranteed to improve your mood
Q Why do people rewatch shows instead of always watching something new
A Rewatching reduces stress because you know whats going to happen Theres no anxiety about plot twists or surprises allowing you to fully relax and enjoy the characters and humor
Q Im feeling really down Will this actually help
A While not a substitute for professional help comfort TV can be a powerful immediate tool It can provide a mental break reduce feelings of loneliness and offer a sense of stability when you need it most
Q What are the key ingredients of a good comfort show
A Look for shows with a positive overall tone beloved characters satisfying endings to episodes or seasons humor and a sense of warmth or camaraderie Lowstakes plots are also a big plus
Q Can you give me some classic examples of comfort TV
A Absolutely Popular choices often include The Office Parks and Recreation Friends The Great British Bake Off Gilmore Girls Bobs Burgers and Schitts Creek
Choosing Your Show Practical Tips
Q How do I find my personal comfort show
A Think about shows you loved in the past or genres you naturally gravitate toward The best test is to ask Does this world feel like someplace Id want to hang out
Q Are there shows to avoid when Im seeking comfort
A Generally avoid shows with intense suspense heavy drama graphic violence or unresolved bleak endings These can increase anxiety rather than soothe it
Q Is it okay if my comfort show is a bit silly or guilty pleasure
A 100 yes Comfort is personal If a reality dating show or a cheesy sitcom makes you
