This article is part of our 2019 Rewind. Follow along as we explore the best and most interesting movies, shows, performances, and more from 2019. Every bit of TV makes me happy. There are great series and great seasons, each of which rewards investment and plays a long game with our emotions. There are great episodes, exercises in creativity that tell satisfying, often self-contained stories all their own. Then there are great scenes, well-executed tidbits that come and go so fast that you could be left wondering if anyone else who saw them felt that distinct punch in the gut that you did. These morsels are worth digging for, and luckily, the surplus of content available at our current programming peak ensures that there were a lot of great scenes to be found on TV this year. These are the scenes that shocked, moved, or thrilled me most this year. They communicated ideas, executed concepts, and imbued feelings in new and interesting ways I'd never seen before, or they represented experiences I'd never seen represented on screen before. Above all else, they punctuated, like the best scenes do, and more often than not their punctuation was an exclamation mark, a moment that screamed: "This needs to be talked about!" Read on for 19 of the best scenes the small screen had to offer in 2019. 19. GLOW, "The Libertines" Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch’s ‘80s-set women’s wrestling comedy took its sky-high concept to new heights with a third season that saw the team take on a Las Vegas residency. I loved every minute of it, but the ninth episode ender brought home the series’ throughline of inclusive chosen families and the threats they face with more impact than ever. A not-so-underground charity drag show makes up the bulk of this largely joyful episode. The show is meant to end with Geena Davis’ Sandy donning a full showgirl outfit, but it’s cut short by a fire that turns out to be arson perpetrated by a hate group. The crime has far-reaching implications for several characters, but it’s perhaps most thematically resonant for a character who wasn’t there: closeted Bash (Chris Lowell) is at that very moment engaging in a three-way involving another man, a moment of timid self-acceptance that’s undercut by this very real materialization of his unspoken fears surrounding his place in the queer community. It’s Arthie (Sunita Mani), another character who is coming to terms with her sexuality, who first sees the homophobic language spraypainted on the ground as she runs from the fire, and the camera creates maximum impact by cutting first to her face, then to an overhead view of the graffiti, all while Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill” plays in the background. The episode ends with drag performer and event host Bobby (Kevin Cahoon), who put everything he had into making the show a success, staring in resignation at violent hate speech and saying, “I guess we got the word out.” 18. The Mandalorian, "Chapter 1" The Disney-Lucasfilm-Marvel-industrial complex is a hotbed of strong opinions, and it would pretty much take the eighth wonder of the world to unite everyone on anything related to the company and its content. Enter Baby Yoda. The Disney+ flagship series The Mandalorian was kept under wraps for months, and it pulled off one hell of a surprise in the pilot episode’s last few moments. After traveling far and facing several obstacles that establish the series’ space Western ambitions, a Mandalorian bounty hunter (Pedro Pascal) discovers that the target he’s been tasked with putting down is actually a pint-sized lookalike of the wise old green guy. Episode director Dave Filoni makes the wise choice of tamping down the usual Star Wars fanfare for a short but memorable moment of truth during which the baby is revealed, holding out its cute-as-hell tiny hand to touch the bounty hunter’s hand like an aww-inducing Michelangelo painting. In an instant, the whole world realized we’d absolutely kill for this precious little bean, with his fuzzy puppet head and endlessly shiny eyes, and apparently the Mandalorian did too. He quickly dispatches his droid companion, who is in favor of killing the baby, making a split-second decision that mingles humanity and mercilessness in true Western hero fashion. TL;DR: Baby Yoda is our god now. 17. Shrill, "Pool" For all of television’s recent strides in representation, there are certain areas in which we’re still in the stone ages, and the presence of realistic body types is one of them. With only six short episodes in its first season, Hulu’s adaptation of Lindy West’s book Shrill has limited screen time to work with, yet it manages to show us more self-described fat women whose experiences are unique and complex than perhaps any other series in history. Aidy Bryant stars as Annie, a woman who’s decided to start living her truth in ways that her coworkers, friends, and family often find unacceptable. One of her biggest moments of self-discovery comes in the episode “Pool,” which sees her attending a “Fat Babe Pool Party.” The pool party takes up the majority of the episode, but two moments in the extended sequence stand out. First, Annie sits poolside, dipping her toes in the water, and a series of micro-expressions cross her face. Bryant’s acting here is amazing; we get that Annie feels at once overwhelmed by the seemingly radical self-love the party represents, a display of confident bodies that both she and the audience may have never seen before. In contrast, she sits fully clothed, unable to jump into the water and be a part of the movement she’s witnessing. “Why not?” she seems to finally think. Moments later, several women are seen dancing to an Ariana Grande song, and they pull her into their group. She’s hesitant at first, but by song’s end, she’s shaking her head and moving her body in glee. Close-ups of dozens of bodies -- beautiful, joyful, and, yes, big -- are lovingly framed by episode director Shaka King, in a scene that shows how small moments of self-acceptance can be momentous. 16. Mr. Robot, "404 Not Found" Tyrell Wellick (Martin Wallstrom) has always been one of the most engaging characters on cyber-thriller Mr. Robot. He started off as a Scandinavian Patrick Bateman type, obsessively slapping himself in the face in the pilot and eventually confessing his love for hacker Elliot (Rami Malek) via a tearful William Carlos Williams poem. Tyrell faded from the narrative in recent seasons, but Sam Esmail’s bleak take on a Christmas saga in Mr. Robot’s last stretch of episodes gave him a well-deserved sendoff that emphasized the mystery and longing he brought to the series. After arguing their way through the woods on Christmas Eve following Tyrell’s botched takeout of a Dark Army agent, the two finally stumble upon the crashed van and dispatch the man once and for all. During the scuffle, Tyrell is shot, and despite Elliot’s offer to bring him to a hospital, he knows he’s done for. “I’m just gonna take a walk,” Tyrell says solemnly, in a gorgeously snowy, dark shot that’s nearly black and white. Mac Quayle’s melancholic yet wintery original score makes the understated moment all the more emotional, and the episode ends, surreally, with Tyrell stumbling upon a source of noise and light in the woods and staring at its glow, Pulp Fiction style, as the screen fades to white. Earlier, he heard that sound and called it death, but in the end, he looked to it as a familiar friend. 15. Unbelievable, "Episode 2" The first two episodes of the impeccable Netflix true-crime series Unbelievable serve as a perfectly executed study in tension and release. In the first, a young woman (Kaitlyn Dever) reports her own rape to a pair of male detectives and is systematically undermined, retraumatized, and gaslit until, in a horrific real-life twist, she herself is charged with false reporting. That first episode is a bleak and almost excruciating watch, meant to impress upon us the overwhelming feelings a survivor may feel when her case is mishandled. Then comes the second episode, directed by Lisa Cholodenko. Enter Detective Karen Duvall (Merritt Wever), who interviews a different rape victim, Amber (Danielle Macdonald), three years later. Duvall is calm and even, an active listener, and as the two sit in her car, she thoroughly explains procedures to Amber while consistently checking in with her about her comfort level. The scene is incredibly simple, yet I found myself with tears streaming down my face by the end, and other women I know reported the same reaction. The contrast between the two survivors' experiences is so stark and startling that Detective Duvall immediately becomes the hero in our eyes for her empathy-first approach to investigation. With this scene serving as the emotional linchpin, the two episodes are a plaintive and clear case for reform in the way America not only investigates rape but also in the way we talk to one another about it. Unbelievable is quietly revolutionary in every scene, but especially so in this one. 14. Sex Education, "Episode 5" I never thought that the best Spartacus reference of the 21st century would come in the form of a British teen sex comedy, but then again, none of us saw Sex Education coming. The brilliant and endearing Netflix original follows Otis (Asa Butterfield) as he acts the part of a sex therapist to his high school peers. What could've been a lowbrow comedy transforms into something surprisingly emotional thanks to an authentic cast of characters, and no scene shines quite like the one in which one of Otis' classmates is about to be outed for her leaked nudes. At a school-wide assembly, a blackmailer has threatened to reveal mean girl Ruby (Mimi Keene) as the owner of a private photo that's been circulating the school. Instead, the schoolgirls -- along with some male classmates -- stand up mid-announcement and declare, "It's my vagina!" First one shouts it, then another, until a torrent of students is taking responsibility for the photo, saving Ruby, who ultimately joins the chorus as well, from the embarrassment and shame that comes with being a victim of revenge porn. Despite the implied crassness of the name, Sex Education is a class act, and this scene perfectly demonstrates what the brave new world of sex-positive TV could look like. 13. Catastrophe, "Episode 6" Sharon Horgan and Rob Delaney’s Catastrophe has always been a bit meaner than one might expect, but it’s also more loving and gracious in its portrayal of marriage than it often gets credit for. The characters Rob and Sharon have considerable ups and downs across a span of four seasons that see them surprised by an accidental pregnancy and ultimately married with two children. Season 4 took on Rob’s alcoholism along with the relentlessness of tragedy, and in the final episode, the two have it out in a horrible fight after Rob’s mother (Carrie Fisher) dies. By episode’s end, the two have made up, but that doesn’t mean everything’s easy; Sharon’s pregnant again, and Rob wants to move to America. Abandoning these conversations, the two stop on the beach and, leaving their kids sleeping in the car, swim deep into the ocean. It’s a self-contained moment that offers us a glimmer of every big feeling the series has ever conveyed about marriage and parenting. There’s the certainty of following a partner anywhere, yet the massive uncertainty of leaning into a bad idea that could go wrong. There are tides pulling the couple in different directions, yet they don’t look scared, even as they drift further from the shore. Then there’s the water, cleansing and familiar all at once. For literalists, the ending is perhaps purposely unnerving, but as a metaphor, it’s nothing short of beautiful. 12. Stranger Things, "The Battle of Starcourt" The third season of the Netflix sci-fi juggernaut took more creative risks than ever before, and although some plotlines were more entertaining than others, the Duffer brothers stuck the landing as always. The most emotional finale yet had several standout scenes -- Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) psychically ripping a monster from her flesh and Billy (Dacre Montgomery) screaming and bleeding as he sacrifices himself are by far the two most metal moments in the series to date -- but none are as devastating as the final goodbye. As it becomes clear that Will (Noah Schnapp) really is moving and taking El with him, the childhood friends share tearful farewells, and after the tough losses they’ve experienced, it’s obvious that they’re saying goodbye to their innocence as well. As if the melancholy of youth’s end isn’t enough, Joyce (Winona Ryder) also finds a lost letter from supposedly dead Hopper (David Harbour) and shares it with El. The show will return for another season, but if it didn’t, his final lines would have given a beautiful ending to a series that was always going to be about growing up. “[Life]’s moving. Always moving whether you like it or not,” Hopper writes. “So you know what? Keep on growing up, kid. Don't let me stop you. Make mistakes, learn from 'em, and when life hurts you -- because it will -- remember the hurt. The hurt is good.” 11. Barry, "ronny/lily" Just like the vicious little girl at its center, "Ronny/Lily" came out of nowhere and bowled us over with its excellence. The HBO hitman series went fully surreal with this episode that saw assassin/amateur actor Barry (Bill Hader, also the episode's director and co-writer with Alec Berg) walk into what he assumed would be a simple hit, only to be beaten to hell by a martial arts champion and his supernaturally strong and fast daughter (Jessie Giacomazzi). Every highly choreographed action sequence in the episode unfolds in a mix of steadily building hilarity and awe, and they all lead up to Barry's second showdown with Ronny (Daniel Bernhardt) in a grocery store. The scene is at once funny and surprisingly high stakes; it begins with two half-dead dudes knocking tampons and medicine off shelves as Ronny and his broken windpipe attempt to kill Barry ("You're not a hundred percent right now," Barry deadpans when a disoriented Ronny kicks through a shelf), and ends with Ronny going down in a blaze of gunfire after literally one-hit-killing the season's presumed antagonist, Detective Loach (John Pirruccello). Meanwhile, Barry's getaway driver, hands super-glued to the steering wheel, puts the cherry on top of a botched night when he accidentally backs straight into a police car. The absurdity of the half-hour is almost deliriously palpable in the grocery store scene, a final face-off that elevates this unkillable family to something of near-mythical proportions. 10. Chernobyl, "1:23:45" HBO's near-flawless historical miniseries took one of the most terrifying events in recent history -- the Chernobyl nuclear disaster and subsequent alleged cover-up -- and gave it the horror movie treatment it deserves. Most scenes are knockouts, but early in the first episode, two cross-edited sequences reveal wordlessly and horrifically the extent of the fatal conditions that blindsided scientists and first responders on the scene. First, a series of firefighters arrive at what they assume is a fairly normal fire that happens to be at the nuclear facility. One picks up a shiny piece of rock that apparently came from the building; another tells him not to touch it. Moments later, the latter man passes the former again, and he's screaming in pain as the flesh on his hand is revealed to have seared off. Meanwhile, head engineer Anatoly Dyatlov (Paul Ritter) refuses to believe early reports that the nuclear core is gone and sends some men to check it out and set up precautions to prevent further issues. A series of horrors awaits these men, and in a few short minutes, two have faces that have burned red from a moment's glance at the area where the core should've been, while another begins bleeding from the inside out after touching a radioactive door. The scale of unprecedented real-life tragedy here is staggering, but our retrospective understanding as viewers that these men are unwittingly walking into a pit of poison makes the scene all the more upsetting. 9. Mindhunter, "Episode 5" Damon Herriman's hypnotic, frenetic portrayal of Charles Manson in the second season of David Fincher's FBI profiling series should put to rest any discussion about which actor does the cult leader the most justice on screen. In his single scene, Herriman transforms to look nearly identical to the real Manson, and he has his mannerisms down pat, too. This is more than just a good impression, though; the series writes a version of the infamous criminal that highlights his charisma and persuasiveness, intriguing and frightening aspects of his personality that tend to get (reasonably) overshadowed by his descent into madness. It's a wickedly funny scene too, as Manson not only deftly convinces deviant-personality-obsessed FBI profiler Holden Ford (Jonathan Groff) that he didn't commit any crimes but also talks Ford into giving him his sunglasses for no reason other than that he can. The perfectly written and acted tete-a-tete between the two hyper-fixated men, with occasional "damn hippies"-type interjections from Holden's partner Bill Tench (Holt McCallany), are more than mesmerizing enough to earn Herriman and the episode some future Emmy nominations. 8. Fleabag, "Episode 6" If you want to break my heart in two, the quickest way is to quote the series finale of Phoebe Waller-Bridge's phenomenal series Fleabag. "I love you," the protagonist (Waller-Bridge) says in a rare moment of vulnerability. "It'll pass," the priest (Andrew Scott) with whom she's formed a deep and instant connection over the past six episodes responds, as gently as he can. The two are seated on a bus bench at dusk, after a wedding at which they shared stolen kisses and secret smiles. The scene, like the rest of the season, is brimming with romance and the stomach-butterfly-inducing chemistry of the two star-crossed characters, but it's also an instance of incredible growth for the central character. As Alabama Shakes' "This Feeling" plays her out, she walks away not only from her great love but also from us, the camera to which the fourth-wall-breaking character has confessed and joked and that she’s never had to worry about losing over the past two seasons. Somewhere along the way, she found that she doesn't need us anymore. That's a happy ending in itself. 7. Succession, "This is Not For Tears" I imagine that somewhere in the world, viewers heard Kendall Roy (Jeremy Strong) say the word "but" in the last two minutes of Succession's second season finale and reacted like it was a game-winning Super Bowl touchdown, screaming and hugging and jumping up and down. If not, let's all get a head start on our Season 3 watch party planning, so we can inevitably lose our shit at whatever surprises the most inexplicably exciting series on television brings us next. But first, let's back up a little: the "but" in question comes into play about halfway through a press conference billionaire and actual devil Logan Roy (Brian Cox) pseudo-blackmails and psychologically manipulates his depressed son Kendall into putting on in order to take responsibility for a company cover-up he had nothing to do with. After a different tragedy was covered up on his behalf, Kendall spent much of this season as a shell of himself -- an addict without a strong enough fix, a boy without a father to hold him. Yet after a loaded conversation with Logan during which he agreed to be the family's blood sacrifice, Kendall decided to go off-book at the press conference. "It has been suggested that I would be a suitable figure to absorb the anger and concern, but...the truth is that my father is a malignant presence, a bully, and a liar," Kendall says, revealing that Logan knew about the cover-up and didn't give a shit. There are no winners in a show about billionaires whose playpen is all of America, or rather, it’s a rigged game they'll all keep winning no matter how much they lose. Still, Kendall's finale-ending public refusal to kiss the ring was a cheer-worthy moment of reckoning for a series that rarely puts its patriarch in situations he can't easily slither out of. 6. Euphoria, "And Salt the Earth Behind You" A dazzling, hyper-stylized series that might best be described as Skins on club drugs, Sam Levinson’s Euphoria gave us an intense first season that begged for a big finish. The one we got, though, was nothing short of indelible. After struggling through a period of sobriety for the sake of her girlfriend, self-destructive high-schooler Rue (Zendaya) finally gets her fix in a scene that also explains how she got her ever-present hoodie (from her dad on his deathbed). As Rue gets high, music swells in the background and her body begins to lift off the bed. As if possessed, Rue's nearly puppeteered body stumbles and crashes through her home. She connects tenderly with her mother, sister, and late father on the way out the door and, surprisingly, begins to sing. That's right, the finale of Euphoria doubled as an unexpected musical as Rue begins to dazedly sing along to "All For Us," a swelling, grandiose, endlessly catchy original song created by Zendaya herself and series soundtrack guru Labrinth. The DNA of the song had previously been running through the season like an undercurrent in other pieces of Labrinth's score, and this moment feels like an inevitable eruption into its final form. Before we know what hit us, a marching band and group of dancers, all dressed in Rue's hoodie, assemble in her suburban street. They soon form a sort of human mountain, which she stumbles up as the song crescendos, eventually falling over the ledge as one cold breath escapes her. Is this what an overdose feels like for Rue? Is this death, or rapture? An addict's high has rarely been portrayed with as much artistry or melancholic beauty, but it's a bold choice we should've expected from an already iconic series. 5. When They See Us, "Part Four" Ava DuVernay's humanizing look at the cost of wrongful conviction takes a familiar story -- the 1989 Central Park jogger rape case -- and rebuilds it from the ground up. DuVernay worked closely with the five men, then teenage boys, who went to prison for the crime, and the result is a stunning work of activist art. Each of the four miniseries episodes brings something unique to the table, but it's the fourth episode, which focuses on Korey Wise (Jharrel Jerome), that really cracks open the soul of the story. The oldest of the convicted group, Wise is sent to adult prison, where he endures unimaginable hardships that test his sanity. As portrayed by Jerome, he's also the most vulnerable of the bunch, a naive kid with a gentle heart. At one point, as he wastes away in solitary confinement, Wise imagines a version of that fateful day during which he decides not to go to Central Park and instead takes his girlfriend (Storm Reid) to Coney Island. The walls of his cell open up to reveal a sun-dappled amusement park, where the couple play games, snack on fair food, and share a chaste kiss. It's a simple dream, one that reveals Wise's heart, and it's also tragically, bitterly impossible. The scene shows not only the imagination necessary to survive injustice but also the obvious failure of a system that condemned a boy like Wise in the first place. 4. You're the Worst, "Pancakes" Few series have tackled depression and mental illness as gutsily as You're the Worst, a which embraces the rough edges of life at every turn. The original premise followed two nasty, self-centered people as they attempted to date, but Aya Cash's Gretchen and Chris Geere's Jimmy quickly grew beyond their archetypes into something much more interesting. Even after growing up some, the two will never be easy to love, an idea the fantastic one-two punch of the series' final scenes reiterates perfectly. After the two run away from their own wedding and make private vows to one another, we're given a surprisingly emotional glimpse into their future -- they end up being parents! -- set to The Mountain Goats' appropriately cynical "No Children." Then the scene cuts back to the two in a diner, still in their wedding dress and suit, as their pancakes arrive. "Hey,” Gretchen says at the last second, turning to Jimmy, “You know there’s always a possibility that someday I might leave my phone and keys at home and step in front of a train. You know that, right?" Jimmy answers her with a sweet joke that lets her know he knows, and the two dig into their pancakes. It's a moment that feels in some ways like a reversal of The Graduate's credits scene. The still-unmarried bride and groom sit side by side, knowing full well that love's a gamble, the end of which could be worse than anything you've ever imagined. They're aware of the worst things about one another and well aware of the huge risks they're taking, yet they still jump in, eyes open and plates full of breakfast food, because they also know it's worth it. 3. Watchmen, "This Extraordinary Being" This time last year, no one in the world could have guessed that Damon Lindelof's adaption of the classic superhero comic by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons would systematically dismantle the illusion of racial equality in America one episode at a time. And yet, here we are, still reeling from the sixth chapter of Watchmen, which saw Angela Abar (Regina King) relive her grandfather's memories and discover that the first-ever superhero was actually a Black man who survived at least two different white supremacist attacks. Hooded Justice (Jovan Adepo) was first a policeman named Will Reeves, the only African-American graduate in his academy class and a frequent target of racism of both the thinly veiled and openly spat varieties. The memory of his origin story is relayed in sleek black and white, with unnervingly beautiful period-era melodies in the background, all of which contrasts starkly with a sense of creeping dread. One day as he leaves work, Reeves is cut off by a car full of white cops who ask him to go out with them. He says no, they needle at him, and when they finally drive away, we see that two Black bodies are dragging behind their vehicle, the blood a reddish smear on a colorless landscape. Our stomachs haven’t even finished sinking when Reeves is cornered by the men yet again, and this time they capture him and hang him from a tree. It's a harrowing turn of circumstance with no root cause other than Reeves' skin color, and when he is cut down and gasping for air, Angela is momentarily shown in his place, experiencing the memory firsthand. Later, as Reeves walks home, he witnesses a mugging, and with a noose still hanging heavy around his neck and a mask still ready to be pulled over his head, he quickly intervenes and saves the day. This is Hooded Justice. This is inherited trauma. This is a radical and vital reassessment of who America chooses to call a hero. 2. Game of Thrones, "A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms" Before Game of Thrones broke our hearts six ways from Sunday, it gave us this one pure moment of payoff that was better than we ever could've imagined. Final episodes notwithstanding, Jaime (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) and Brienne (Gwendolyn Christie) were one of Westeros' most interesting pairs. He, a dishonorable knight whose heart is softer than he lets on. She, a supremely honorable woman whose knightly ambitions have always been curbed by her gender. Scenes between the two always crackled with a kind of kinetic energy, so when the pair -- along with fan favorites Tyrion (Peter Dinklage), Davos (Liam Cunningham), Pod (Daniel Portman), and Tormund (Kristofer Hivju) -- tipsily bullshit by the fire before a battle that means almost certain death, we know something vital is about to happen. A genial conversation quickly snowballs into a breaking of centuries of tradition as Jaime, Brienne's unlikely idol and partner, bestows knighthood upon her in a golden, glowing moment. It would've been easy for the group to make fun of Brienne's unladylike dreams, but as she flashes a teary, triumphant smile, they instead clap for her. It's tough to believe in fate in the cruel world of Game of Thrones, but it's also tough not to imagine that this moment of mutual understanding and joy between two wandering heroes, of Jaime's redemption and Brienne's recognition, isn't the reason the two met in the first place. Whatever else the show did, it's worth remembering that it also gave us this: a true night of the Seven Kingdoms. 1. Fleabag, "Episode 4" The most profound moment in television this year is also, somehow, the sexiest. Before the aforementioned priest (see number eight on this list) parts ways with Fleabag's titular character, the two engage in an intense encounter that lasts nearly half the length of the season's fourth episode, one that captured the zeitgeist along with viewers' hearts. After dwelling on memories of her mother's funeral and her late friend Boo (Jenny Rainsford), Waller-Bridge’s character goes to church and tries earnestly to pray. She's interrupted by the priest, who's feeling drunk and saucy, starting off a firecracker of a conversation by asserting, "Fuck you, calling me Father like it doesn't turn you on just to say it." The scene juggles tonal shifts expertly while maintaining a highwire of sexual and emotional tension, and at some point soon after, the protagonist ends up in a confessional booth. Her jokey listing of sins gives way almost immediately to a tearful plea for some basic type of guidance, and it’s Waller-Bridge’s most finely acted moment to date. Our hero may not want a god, but she wants intimacy, something she's clearly held at arm's length since the deaths of her mother and best friend. "Kneel," the priest insists (and listen, if you didn't get chills just thinking about that line right now, you should have your pulse checked). He's telling her what to do, which she just said she wanted, yet when he meets her, it's gently and with reverence, as if her honesty was the key needed to finally unlock the piece of him she'd been seeking. Four episodes worth of bated breath can finally be let go as the two finally kiss -- hungrily and clumsily -- in a shot that moves across the church along with the motion of their eager bodies. Suddenly, a painting falls down, breaking the momentum and indicating, according to the flustered priest, a definitive sign from God. This extended church-set scene is clever, propulsive, and profound, perhaps the emotional centerpiece of the entire series, but it's also stylistically unforgettable to boot. The camera moves and settles down in rhythm with the characters’ ever-changing energies, while Isobel Waller-Bridge's Catholicism-inspired score reminds us that the passion can be holy, and honesty divine. Even more great scenes: Teeth pulling in The Act, the hotel death in A Series of Unfortunate Events, Sally's brutally honest monologue in Barry, Renata's roadside blow up in Big Little Lies, the final pan out on the broads in Broad City, young Annie and baby Joy's bloody origin story in Castle Rock, the 90-second roof cleanup on Chernobyl, the ceasefire news/prom scene in Derry Girls, Rue and Jules' kiss and Kat's cold open in Euphoria, "There is no answer but the answer is Eleanor" in The Good Place, Villanelle's lovesick Amsterdam kill in Killing Eve, the SLAPP suit musical number in Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, a car on the bridge in Mindhunter, #MyDadFroze in The Other Two, the glass shard and the final scene in Russian Doll, the abortion clinic waiting room in Sex Education, Boar on the Floor and Logan and Kendall's blood sacrifice scene in Succession, the diner scene in The End of the F***ing World, two old men on a porch in True Detective, Alma's accident in Undone, Selena's death announcement on Veep, and the Black Wall Street massacre, squid attack, and Hooded Justice's massacre in Watchmen.