95 Best '90s TV Shows Ranked

We watched a lot of TV in the '90s. Can you blame us?  

In the '90s, the increased affordability of cable and the variety of channels included in a typical subscription package sent TV positively ballistic. Twenty-four-hour news channels emerged in conjunction with major celebrity scandals, including O.J. Simpson's murder trial, President Bill Clinton's infidelity with a White House intern, and Olympic figure skater Tonya Harding's alleged plot against rival Nancy Kerrigan.  

The relatively new concept of channels catering to very specific demographics — MTV, Nickelodeon, ESPN, The Nashville Network, Cartoon Network, The Learning Channel, etc. — provided a virtual new frontier of creativity in programming and an unprecedented era of TV. In other words — while a solid percentage are utterly timeless — a lot of the best shows of the '90s could never be made today.  

When given the choice of going big or going home, we went big, and compiled the following ranked list of the top 95 shows of the '90s, ranked according to their quality, ongoing relevance, and the indefinable but unmistakable quality of "90s-ness." As such, "The Sopranos" isn't listed, as it's essentially a 2000s show, much in the way "The Golden Girls" is basically a 1980s show. 

If you happen to disagree with how we ranked your favorite — don't have a cow, man. 

Before Eric Fogel solidified his status on MTV by creating "Celebrity Deathmatch," he summoned up "The Head," which aired on the same network for two seasons between 1994 and 1996. 

Roy is an extraterrestrial roughly as large as a medium-sized man who resides inside the head of Jim, a mild-mannered trade school student. Roy's living quarters demand a significant suspension of the audience's disbelief; if the show played by the same rules of physics that apply in reality, the weight of Jim's grotesquely enlarged skull would likely crush his neck.

As implausible as it may be, "The Head" is essentially about valuing others for their humanity instead of their appearance. There's a wholesome, heartfelt core of "The Head," visible to those who look past its routine displays of Cronenbergian body horror.    

Does anyone else remember when it was fashionable to just hate the ever-living daylights out of Barney? Why was that? What the heck was wrong with us? 

In production semi-consistently from 1993 to 2009, "Barney & Friends" consists of the eponymous purple tyrannosaurus rex dancing and singing about fundamental concepts including self-esteem, happiness, love, and cleaning up after yourself. Naturally, the show is intensely mindless; it's designed for literal toddlers. The fact that the Chicago Tribune published an article titled "The Barney Backlash" in 1993 detailing the notable efforts of the anti-Barney agenda proves that mean-spirited jerks with too much time on their hands were invented well before the year 2000. 

Fascinating side note — it just-so happens that "Barney and Friends" helped launch the careers of Selena Gomez and Demi Lovato during their early years as child actors.

Considering the impact the "Baywatch" franchise has had on pop culture, it can be easy to forget that NBC canceled "Baywatch" after its first season in 1989, as the Los Angeles Times reported. However, the show thrived in syndication and continued production until the early 2000s. Perhaps this program has something going for it besides eye candy, after all? 

Regardless, cable TV of the '90s would be entirely different without the beach-based action-drama co-starring and executive produced by David Hasselhoff. Without an opportunity to run at a camera in slow motion while wearing a swimsuit, Pamela Anderson might never have become famous enough for someone to steal her sex tape. The proverbial butterfly effect of that hideous violation ceasing to occur would disrupt the timeline in ways that profoundly impact the life and career of Kim Kardashian, not to mention preventing "Pam & Tommy" from existing. 

While certainly the teen melodrama sensation of its era, "Beverly Hills, 90210" can't touch its modern-day equivalents. When it comes to virtually any metric of creative merit, "90210" isn't in the same league as "Euphoria," nor does it convey much of the smirking self-awareness fans enjoy so much on "Riverdale." 

Even in the context of its own time, the Tori Spelling-starring soap delivers a glossy, opulent vision of teenage existence that scans like holdover from the 1980s. Nevertheless, we'd be remiss in our duty if we downplayed the influence of executive producer Aaron Spelling on television during the final few decades of the 20th century.

Spelling followed up 1980s smash hit "Dynasty" with "Beverly Hills, 90210," in which wealthy Californian teenagers cope with various social and personal dilemmas. The series premiered in 1990, ran until 2000, provided a basis for the spinoff "Melrose Place," and made celebrities out of Tori Spelling, Luke Perry, Shannen Doherty, and more. 

We suggest that whoever had the idea to splice American actors into "Super Sentai" episodes to create a whole new series about Californian teens who transform into sci-fi ninja superheroes deserves to have more money than Jeff Bezos. Anybody could've thought up selling books on the internet, but only a true genius could have conceived of "Mighty Morphin Power Rangers." 

The Fox Kids vanguard and afterschool staple arrived in 1992, and technically continued until 1996 when what would've been the fourth season of "Mighty Morphin Power Rangers" was rebranded as "Power Rangers Zeo." Subsequent iterations of the Power Rangers never managed to capture our imaginations quite like the first wave. It appears to be the only era of the Power Rangers franchise to inspire an R-rated short film serving as a series epilogue for its fanbase of former kids who are currently thirtysomething weirdos.

A lot of people really hated Tom Green in the '90s, which could not be helped. Overexposure tends to breed contempt for celebrity entertainers, and at least once a week throughout 1999, MTV made sure everyone in the country with a cable connection heard about Tom Green deliberately making some kind of terrible decision. 

"The Tom Green Show" actually started on Canadian cable access in 1994, so contrary to how it might've looked to American audiences, the author and performer behind "The Bum Bum Song (Lonely Swedish)" was no overnight success. Sadly, new episodes of the original "Tom Green" only aired on MTV for a little more than a year and a half before an illness forced Green to step away. 

During his late '90s/early '00s zenith of visibility and popularity, Green was known for subjecting himself — and often his family and close friends — to awkward, disgusting, humiliating public ordeals. You know how every sketch on Netflix's "I Think You Should Leave with Tim Robinson" is basically Robinson making all the other characters in the bit uncomfortable? "The Tom Green Show" does the same thing in real life, without actors. 

A normal man performing the comedy of "The Tom Green Show" would've been beaten to death by an angry mob, but Tom Green is still alive because Tom Green is a god.

Jane Seymour stars in "Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman," which aired on CBS from 1993 to 1998. While not a common favorite among the present-day generation of tastemakers, the story of an unaccompanied woman benevolently venturing into the American frontier – an environment often associated with the type of mayhem seen on HBO's "Deadwood" — probably belongs in the conversation about '90s-style TV feminism. Unlike Buffy and Xena, Dr. Quinn doesn't fight literal supernatural monsters. Instead, she pushes back against the metaphorical monster of misogyny. 

Not that "Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman" needs a stronger link to the '90s, but it just-so-happens that Orson Bean plays general store owner Loren Bray, and Bean also plays the confounding Dr. Lester in what is arguably the decade's greatest film, "Being John Malkovich."

Nickelodeon's aptly dubbed "Nicktoons" lineup includes more lucrative ventures, but "Rocko's Modern Life" is the only one we remember watching on purpose at any point after President George W. Bush took office. 

The four seasons of "Rocko" came about between 1993 and 1996. As the title strongly indicates, the program depicts a young adult wallaby and comic book store employee navigating the frequently perilous environs of his adopted home of O-Town. Unlike the dumb babies of "Rugrats," Rocko contends with adult problems like romantic inadequacy, financial distress, abusive giant frogs who are also homeowners and his neighbors, plus the insane dangers of laundry day.  

As noted by Variety, a not-insignificant fraction of the folks who worked on "Rocko" went on score to jobs on "SpongeBob SquarePants." If they resented not making those fat "The Ren & Stimpy Show" bucks in the '90s, it would appear they have been compensated by destiny. 

ABC broadcast the four seasons of "Doogie Howser, M.D." from 1989 to 1994. Maybe "Doogie Howser, M.D." is your favorite show; more than probably, it is not. Neil Patrick Harris plays the title character — a child prodigy who speeds through medical school and becomes history's youngest licensed doctor at 14 years old. 

Though its premise may be implausible, we owe "Doogie Howser, M.D." for introducing the world to N.P.H., without whom contemporary popular culture would be severely diminished. On a timeline where "Doogie Howser, M.D." never gets made, a lesser actor plays Thomas Anderson's therapist in "The Matrix: Resurrections" and "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog" probably stars Nicholas Brendon. 

"Salute Your Shorts" produced two seasons that aired on Nickelodeon between 1990 and 1992, and the summer camp-based kids' comedy has enjoyed remarkable cultural endurance despite its mere 26 episodes. Starring Danny Cooksey of "Terminator 2: Judgment Day" fame as Camp Anawanna's resident bully Bobby Budnick, "Salute Your Shorts" chronicles the off-kilter hijinks of Budnick, Donkeylips, Sponge, Camp Counselor Ug, and a handful of other characters who were not primarily referred to by degrading nicknames. 

The legacy of "Salute Your Shorts" reaches as far as contemporary combat sports, as All Elite Wrestling star Chuck Taylor uses a maneuver called "The Awful Waffle" — named after a brutal yet enigmatic "Salute Your Shorts" prank — to knock out his opponents. 

A cynic might observe its ominous, Burton-esque urban landscape and gothic overtones, then correctly determine that "Gargoyles," really wishes it was "Batman: The Animated Series." A more optimistic and equally correct take on Disney's darkest cult favorite is it's a program about a group of heroic humanoid monsters who live in secret as outsiders in New York City, known only to their one human friend who happens to be a conventionally attractive young woman. In other words, this show also wants to be "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles." 

The important difference is the "Gargoyles" gang routinely addresses moral and philosophical conundrums and contradictions that the slapstick Turtles of yore wouldn't touch for an extra-large New York-style pie with extra cheese. 

"Gargoyles" aired from 1994 to 1997 and inspired enough enthusiasm to sustain 13 years of "Gathering of the Gargoyles" fan conventions. Nowadays, some folks wonder how much longer we'll have to wait for Season Four.      

Originally broadcast in Japan from 1989 to 1996, the second series in the "Dragon Ball" franchise became, alongside "Gundam Wing," the cornerstone of Adult Swim's Toonami block of programming. Goku and his fellow Z-Fighters train like crazy and wage noble campaigns against global threats, including Frieza, Cell, and Majin Buu. "Dragon Ball Z" was the beginning of millions of previously socially ambitious American youths transformation into anime nerds, which means this nation owes the Toei Animation production studio a huge debt of gratitude.  

"Dragon Ball Z" is particularly noted for the magnitude and grandiosity of its fight sequences, and their relative awesomeness remains a topic of deadly serious debate to this very day. 

Starting with a straight-to-TV movie in 1993, "Babylon 5" carried on officially as a series from 1994 to 1998. Creator, showrunner, and future controversial "Spider-Man" writer J. Michael Straczynski mapped out his entire vision for what became the five-season story before he sold a studio or network on the concept. This was a highly unique approach, especially considering that long-term serialized TV drama was not as common as it is today.

As it features a diverse set of outer space denizens cohabitating a space station, there's some speculation that Paramount copied and pasted the basic concept of "Babylon 5" to make "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine." This would have been impossible, of course, as all television executives live by an ironclad code of honor against unoriginality. 

Based on a children's book series of the same name, "The Magic School Bus" transformed and traveled into bizarre situations for educational purposes on PBS between 1994 and 1997. Ms. Frizzle's field trips through space and time taught more than a few of us how human organs function, the number of other planets in the solar system, the environmental necessities of bees, ants, bacteria, and other disturbing and small forms of life. Best of all, the show conditioned us to become enthusiastic "Doctor Who" viewers in time for the 2005 relaunch. 

Hazy late-night memories of "The State" formed during its tenure on MTV from 1993 to 1995 gave some of us the impression that MTV executives really wanted their own "Kids In The Hall." Maybe that's true, maybe it isn't, but in the overall scheme of things, it doesn't matter at all. 

"The State" alumni have their fingerprints all over the subsequent 30 years of American comedy, with one or multiple "The State" cast members owning varying degrees of credit for "Reno 911!," "Wet Hot American Summer," "Viva Variety," "Search Party," "Party Down," "Stella," "The Big Sick," "The Other Two," "Childrens Hospital," and enough others to keep this list going on for quite a while longer. 

According to television mythology, "The State" would've stayed on the air longer if its stars hadn't made an ill-advised bid to move to CBS, but things worked out for the best. The cast members of "The State" clearly had better things to do than be "The State."

Hulk Hogan became a crossover megastar in the 1980s as the headlining act of the World Wrestling Federation (WWF, currently known as WWE), and left for the competing World Championship Wrestling (WCW) in 1994. After a few years of continuing to inhabit his familiar, passé superhero-style persona, Hulk Hogan betrayed the good guy wrestlers to lead the infamous faction known as the N.W.O. A star on Hogan's level turning heel came off as an unprecedented, shocking storyline swerve and left an impression that anything was possible in WCW. 

A brutal and historic ratings war between WCW Monday Nitro and WWF's Monday Night Raw ensued. WCW eventually buckled under a series of poor creative and business decisions, and Monday Nitro ended its six years on TNT in 2001. 

While the main events tended to revolve around the N.W.O., Sting, and Bill Goldberg, nowadays Nitro is notable for an undercard that introduced national audiences to Eddie Guerrero, Chris Jericho, and many other all-time great luminaries of the squared circle.  

Technically, "ER" aired more new episodes in the 2000s than it did in the '90s, as the quintessential hospital drama persisted on NBC from 1994 to 2006. However, George Clooney left the cast after 1999's fifth season. The fact that "ER" carried on for seven more years without its breakout star speaks to the elasticity of the soap opera format and the passion of the "ER" fanbase. Nevertheless, the foundational phase of "ER" is definitely an entity of the '90s.  

"ER" chronicles the struggles of the overworked staff at a Chicago hospital and was the longest-running primetime medical drama in network TV history until "Grey's Anatomy" surpassed its longevity in 2019, per The Hollywood Reporter. 

There's no getting around it. Right there in the theme song, it says, "In a '90s kind of world, I'm glad I've got my girls." The five seasons of "Living Single" that aired on Fox from 1993 to 1998 must be included in this list of top '90s TV shows if it is to have any integrity at all. 

In "Living Single," four young professional women cohabitate an apartment in Brooklyn. Combined with their pair of frequent male associates, "Living Single" comprises a group of, ahem, friends whose series premiered a year ahead of any venture starring Jennifer Aniston and David Schwimmer. 

"Living Single" is not the black "Friends." "Friends" is the white "Living Single." 

"Boy Meets World" appeared on ABC from 1993 to 2000. Throughout seven seasons, we watched well-meaning but unruly middle-schooler Cory Matthews — played by Ben Savage, younger brother of "The Wonder Years" star Fred Savage — evolve into an awkward college guy. Savage is a fine actor, but heartthrobs Rider Strong and Danielle Fishel – who played Cory's best pal Shawn Hunter and Cory's girlfriend Topanga Lawrence — probably had about as much to do with the show's popularity, if not a little more. William Daniels plays Mr. Feeny, who is implausibly always teaching at whichever academic institution Cory and his circle happen to be attending at the time.  

"Roseanne" ran for 10 seasons on ABC from 1988 to 1997 and was a profound ratings success. The legacy of the eponymous star has become embroiled in embarrassing controversy. Luckily, we can discuss the career of her costar John Goodman instead. 

Easily one of the '90s most significant and influential actors, the scope of Goodman's career extends well beyond his tenure as Dan Connor on "Roseanne." Goodman plays essential roles in "Barton Fink," "The Big Lebowski," and "The Flintstones" — that's two of the decade's most lauded pictures and one that's an example of a bizarre '90s Hollywood fad of making very average films based on TV shows from the '60s and '70s.

According to his IMDb, Kenan Thompson started his television career with Nickelodeon's sketch comedy series "All That" in 1994. Following his departure from "All That" in 2000, he joined the cast of Saturday Night Live — where he has remained ever since — in 2003. As a result, Thompson has been a major part of sketch-based comedy television for the better part of three decades.

Be that as it may, Thompson's costar Kel Mitchell's performance of Ed the Good Burger cashier feels more emblematic of the '90s. Perhaps that's partially because of Mitchell's comparatively limited time in the spotlight following "All That" ties him closer to the decade. It's also because Ed is a family-friendly version of the same basic concept as Jay or Silent Bob — an obvious stoner who strategically never mentions why he's always in such a good mood.

In most television shows about teenagers, the characters don't talk or behave like actual teens. Instead, they speak and act like idealized caricatures conjured up by professional television writers because actual teens are frequently unpleasant to be around, let alone watch. "Freaks and Geeks" — which successfully aired a mere 12 episodes before its cancellation and solidification as an underappreciated cult classic forevermore — depicts characters that are excruciatingly uncomfortable to watch because they succeed in portraying teenage awkwardness a little too well. 

The show's single season, which was helmed by future Hollywood big shots Judd Apatow and Paul Feig while featuring future stars like Seth Rogen and James Franco, only aired five episodes before 1999 turned into 2000. Then again, even though the '90s was a decade that valued authenticity, "Freaks & Geeks" was a little too authentic to stay on the air. Or was it?   

Taking a cue from the Philadelphia-based indie sensation Extreme Championship Wrestling, the company then known as the World Wrestling Federation ditched the kid-friendly approach associated with its late '80s heyday and leaped into grittier PG-13 territory. The resulting so-called Attitude Era marks a boom period in creativity and popularity the company presently known as the WWE has not experienced since. 

Where exactly the Attitude Era begins is a matter for some debate. However, two potential starting points are the debut of Dustin Rhodes' controversial Goldust character in 1995 or Stone Cold Steve Austin's infamous proclamation to the provisionally religious Jake "The Snake" Roberts that "Austin 3:16 just whipped your ass" at the 1996 King of the Ring. Between then at the Attitude Era's early '00s twilight, America got to know a brash young athlete nicknamed The Rock, who famously held the tag team titles as half of the Rock 'n' Sock Connection alongside Mankind. 

So maybe it's not a "good" show by traditional metrics of quality, but "Full House" — with eight seasons running from 1987 to 1995 on ABC, followed by several years in syndicated reruns — was inescapable throughout the '90s. 

Widower and morning talk show host Danny Tanner — portrayed by foul-mouthed standup Bob Saget, secretly playing against type — raises his three daughters with the help of his failed comedian buddy Joey Gladstone. Also in the mix is his failed musician brother-in-law, "Uncle" Jesse Katsopolis. Saget, Dave Coulier, and John Stamos all got relatively famous, but they were still nobodies compared to breakout stars Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, who played the youngest of the three Tanner sisters, Michelle. 

If you decide to rewatch "Full House," remember, Bob Saget isn't getting upstaged by babies who eventually grow up and realize they don't like acting. Bob Saget is making it look like the babies are funnier and smarter than he is, because he was talented enough to do stuff like that.

"Æon Flux" certainly isn't the first animated action program targeted at a grown-up audience, but if you were born in the '80s, it's probably the first one you remember. With new episodes airing sporadically on MTV from 1991 to 1995, the cerebral sci-fi show stands as easily the most influential section of MTV's "Liquid Television" lineup. Even three decades down the line, the evidently superhuman gymnastic abilities of the show's eponymous protagonist, extra-lanky designs of the human form, and unconventional sexual overtones all make "Æon Flux" entirely distinct from the pack of animated shoot 'n' slash 'em-ups. 

Not unlike "Cowboy Bebop," the visual presentation baked into its animation style makes "Æon Flux" a questionable candidate for a live-action adaptation, but Hollywood tried anyway. Whether or not anyone learned anything from the debacle of 2005's "Æon Flux" remains to be seen.

These days, plenty of genre television programs feature female protagonists. In the '90s, such a thing wasn't entirely unheard of, but it was enough of a rarity for "Xena: Warrior Princess" to instantly scan as a bold departure from "Hercules: The Legendary Journeys" — the far less imaginative and innovative series from which it spun off of. 

Lucy Lawless plays redemption-seeking ex-baddie Xena, who wanders the Earth seeking wrongs to right. Always at her side is trainee warrior Gabrielle, portrayed by Renee O'Connor. The pair's intense but platonic relationship marks an early instance of the phenomena currently referred to as "shipping," which often results in fanfiction that places two characters in a romantic relationship. However, contemporary "ships" generally aren't heavily implied in the subtext of their source material.

The "X-Files" spinoff that's even more disturbing than "The X-Files," "Millennium" maintained for three seasons on Fox from 1996 to 1999. Lance Henriksen plays FBI consultant Frank Black, cursed with a psychic ability to see into the minds of the evildoers. Black works with the enigmatic Millennium Group alongside Peter Watts, portrayed by future "Lost" star Terry O'Quinn — but is the Millennium Group what it seems? 

No. The Millennium Group is not what it seems. 

The first season consists of Frank hunting the serial killers of the week. It's quite well and good, but it might as well have been titled "Se7en: The Series." In Season 2, "Millennium" lives up to its title and explores anxieties and prophecies surrounding the looming year 2000. 

We suppose the show lost a lot of pertinence once the year 2000 came and the world didn't end, but we'd still rank the best "Millennium" episodes right up there next to the most triumphant hours of Mulder and Scully. As Peter Watts himself might say, this is who we are. 

Probably the decade's second-most beloved fish-out-of-water sitcom, "The Nanny" enjoyed a prosperous six season run on NBC that lasted from 1993 to 1999. Fran Drescher stars as Fran Fine, a stylish denizen of working-class Queens, New York, who stumbles into a job as the live-in caretaker to the three children of wealthy, stuck-up theater producer Maxwell Sheffield. While Fran hashes out the dos and don'ts of her new moneyed stomping grounds, butler Edward Niles constantly hurls merciless insults at Max's business partner, C.C. Babcock.  

While popular in its day, "The Nanny" wasn't appropriately recognized as its generation's answer to "I Love Lucy" until it landed in the cultural rearview mirror. The enlightened critics of modern times don't question the relative merits of "The Nanny" — rather, they fight over which parts are the funniest.   

It loses a little bit of its '90s cred for remaining relevant and very much in production long after its popularity went interstellar in 1997. Nonetheless, especially during its early years, "South Park" is entirely a product of the '90s. It's an irreverent cartoon about swearing children originally made with circles of multi-colored construction paper. It's transgressive, and it doesn't look like it cost anything to make — quite like '90s staples "Space Ghost Coast to Coast" and "Mystery Science Theater 3000."  

Later seasons tended to focus on current events, but the social commentary in early "South Park" is more generalized and subtly abusive towards its audience. The Season 1 finale leaves off on the cusp of revealing the identity of Cartman's biological father. The following year, the Season 2 premiere swerves into "Terrance and Phillip in Not Without My Anus," which in no way pays off the cliffhanger. Creators Matt Stone and Trey Parker also demonstrated how to manipulate large swaths of humanity into wearing t-shirts with the fundamentally gross Mr. Hankey on them.

A precursor to HBO's acclaimed crime dramas of the 2000s, "Oz" broadcast its first three seasons from 1997 to 1999, with the following three all hitting the airwaves in the 2000s. The timing is fitting, considering that if we must look back and point to a TV program that functions as a metaphorical bridge between the culture and politics of the '90s and the '00s, the only two good options are pretty much "Oz" and "Total Request Live."  

Not only does "Oz" predict the complex characters and graphic violence of '00s prestige cable standouts — specifically "The Sopranos," "The Wire," and "Breaking Bad" — cast members of the state penitentiary-based drama moved on to significant acclaim with remarkable consistency. J. K. Simmons, Edie Falco, Harold Perrineau, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, BD Wong, and Christopher Meloni all play regular or semi-regular roles on "Oz." 

You might recognize the title from a similarly titled recent Netflix endeavor, but there are plenty of differences between the original "Cowboy Bebop" and the John Cho starring project doomed to be sunk by bad reviews before audiences saw a single frame.

We're sorry, but even though professional critics and a vocal segment of fans hated it, there were still some folks from real life who didn't mind Netflix's "Cowboy Bebop." 

That said, the 2021 version of the story only works if viewed as an independent entity. The appeal of 1998's "Cowboy Bebop" lies as much in its visual style, soundtrack, and atmosphere as it does the semi-legal undertakings of Spike Spiegel and his fellow bounty hunters aboard the starship Bebop. Basically, "Cowboy Bebop" isn't just a show. It's a vibe — a '90s kind of vibe. 

Doubling down on science fiction following the rating triumph of "The X-Files," Fox unleashed "Sliders," in which a pair of quirky college kids, their professor, and a soul singer tumble through portals that drop them off on versions of Earth with alternate histories. 

In one episode, the sliders visit an Earth where America has joined the Soviet Union. Another episode has them checking out an America that never declared independence from England. On another Earth, instead of a patriarchy, society operates under a matriarchal paradigm where folks think men are too emotional to vote or hold political office.  

It's not the most sophisticated sci-fi show of all time, but there is practically nothing more '90s than an accidentally campy sci-fi series starring Jerry O'Connell that Fox canceled after three seasons.  "Sliders" managed a pair of additional seasons of Syfy before its second and final cancellation, and we'll probably never know if Rembrandt survived that bizarre last slide.  

In the 1980s, MTV was so racist they offended David Bowie, but the music network had started to get its act together by the '90s. From 1988 to 1995, "Yo! MTV Raps" aided hip-hop on its way to becoming one of the doiminant genres of popular music. During that time, the show introduced introducing middle America to quintessential acts like the Notorious B.I.G., Tupac Shakur, Salt-N-Pepa, Public Enemy, and countless others. 

By the mid-to-late '90s, a person could argue MTV's regular rotation included its fair share of rap videos. During the decade's first half, many viewers relied on "Yo! MTV Raps" to provide a reprieve from Aerosmith, Sheryl Crow, and Counting Crows — the only three artists MTV was allowed to air at the time, as far as we can remember. 

One of a handful of '90s spinoffs generally considered superior to their origin shows, "Daria" lifts a supporting character out of the flyover state wasteland presented by "Beavis and Butt-head" and sets her up in the affluent suburb of Lawndale. 

Through the perspective of its emotionally guarded pragmatic protagonist, "Daria" satirizes the high school experience without reducing Lawndale High to a collection of tired clichés. While Daria and her (usually) BFF Jane Lane are outcasts in the conventional sense, that doesn't make Lawndale's popular kids the villains. Kevin and Brittany might be the football team captain and head cheerleader, and boy, do they ever inhabit their respective stereotypes, but they've also got inner lives – kinda. 

"Daria" aired from 1997 to 2001 and wrapped up with the TV movie "Is It College Yet?" A spinoff of a spinoff centered on Daria's pal Jodie is appearing on Comedy Central – let's keep our fingers crossed "Jodie" leads to a Mystik Spiral reunion. 

Among the very few television programs that begin and end their tenures on the air in totally different genres, "Family Matters" is likely the most successful. Conceived initially as a boilerplate middle-class family sitcom starring Reginald VelJohnson, "Family Matters" concludes its seventh season as essentially a sci-fi comedy starring Jaleel White as the highly merchandisable "nerd" Steve Urkel. 

Despite joining the cast as a child, White channels enough heart and complexity into Steve to turn what was envisioned as a one-and-done gag role into one of the decade's most recognizable and longest-running characters in primetime comedy. On a more subjective level, "Family Matters" and other programs of a similar make include black characters who are not gang members or professional athletes, which probably played a small but important role in shaping the worldview of youths in overwhelmingly white American towns. 

Are we suggesting Steve Urkel helped make America less racist? Well, yes. He did do that. 

Technically it could be considered an '80s show, having completed its original run from 1987 to 1994. Then again, nightly reruns of "Star Trek: The Next Generation" kept the sci-fi tentpole part of many folks' daily entertainment diet well past the '90s midpoint. Decades after the conclusion of Captain Kirk's onscreen adventures, Captain Jean-Luc Picard, played by Patrick Stewart, helms a new Enterprise, charged with exploring the galaxy on behalf of the United Federation of Planets.

Because special effects had grown more sophisticated and adaptable in the 20 years separating the original "Star Trek" and "Star Trek: The Next Generation," Piccard and his crew face a wider range of cosmic menaces, including the fascist cyborg army, the Borg — basically Cybermen from "Doctor Who," except actually scary. 

For better or worse, the '90s might go down in history as the final decade in which guitar-based rock music remained a truly dominant cultural force. In those precious remaining years before Creed and Limp Bizkit came along to destroy any remaining credibility for the entire genre, MTV's "120 Minutes" provided night owls with their first glimpses at what were called "buzzworthy" videos in those days. The show also featured memorable live performances from the era's movers and shakers. 

At this point, complaints about the lack of music videos on MTV are significantly older than MTV's target demographic. However, during the '90s, record labels had seemingly limitless promotional funds, resulting in a few of the period's most iconic moments from any screen. If we close our eyes and someone screams "The 90s!" our mind's eye shows either Kurt Cobain slurring his lyrics in an unnamed school gymnasium flanked by demonic cheerleaders or a young girl spitting up ice cream in Soundgarden's "Black Hole Sun."

While the feature film segment of his career is a very different story, Aaron Sorkin's track record on television has taken a few dings since the '90s. "The West Wing" could have aged better; "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" is a legendary debacle; the Rotten Tomatoes sub-headline paragraph for "The Newsroom" cautions that the show is "preachy" and "self-satisfied."

Here in the 2020s, not everyone understands that Sorkin is actually good at doing TV shows because "Sports Night" is notoriously hard to locate on streaming services.

Very loosely inspired by the behind-the-scenes world of Dan Patrick and Keith Olbermann's tenure hosting the sports recap and commentary show "SportsCenter," as noted by The New Yorker, "Sports Night" contains some of Sorkin's sharpest comedic-leaning efforts. The series is buoyed by excellent performances by Peter Krause as Sports Night co-host Casey McCall and Felicity Huffman as his executive producer Dana Whitaker. It's a lot like what "The Newsroom" would be if it was really good and the characters talked about sports instead of current events. Or maybe it's more like an edgier "Ted Lasso?"

Kids today think "Law & Order" is all about Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson. Meanwhile, the couch potatoes of Gen X know television's definitive police procedural, "Law & Order," in its original form and are not exclusively familiar with the franchise's most enduring spinoff, or even the most recent spinoff of the aforementioned spinoff. 

"Law & Order" began in 1990 on NBC and continued for 20 seasons. Dick Wolf's brainchild innovated the concept of devoting the top half of episodes to detectives finding clues and arresting suspects, followed by a second half where district attorneys prosecute alleged criminals in the courtroom. "Law & Order" also cultivated a habit of, now and again, using a real-world current event as a muse for its fictionalized New York City criminal justice apparatus' crime of the week.  

Perhaps the Baby Boomer's narcissism has panned out as a net negative for humanity, but at least the Boomers will always have "Absolutely Fabulous" to make their self-involvement and inability to move on from the 1960s look harmless and charming.

The original batch of "Absolutely Fabulous" episodes aired on BBC One from 1992 to 1995, with a handful of revival and film projects appearing in the subsequent years. Patsy and Edina – played by Joanna Lumley and show creator Jennifer Saunders — are influential members of the London fashion and media industries. However, they mostly drink too much and get themselves into predicaments. 

Edina continually disappoints her already traumatized daughter Saffron — a studious Gen Xer futilely hoping for a quiet life of intellectual rigor and emotional substance to contrast her mother's vacuous ignorance and frequent shouting.   

Perhaps as far as the cold hard facts of history go, "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" is important principally for launching Will Smith as a household name before his seemingly inevitable ascension to blockbuster stardom. "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" places Smith's character at the center of a story that's one part fish out of water and one part coming of age which remained wildly popular in syndication well after its initial six-season network run from 1990 to 1996. 

However, if we're honest, when we think of "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air," the first thing we think of is Carlton's uncanny dancing abilities. 

If we want to see Will Smith, we can see him in "Independence Day," "Men In Black," and plenty of other movies. Carlton's dancing does not appear in any movies at all. If we want to see Carlton dance, which we often do, "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" is our one and only source.   

You can be a cynic and call it a "Seinfeld" knockoff if you insist, but the '90s was overflowing with "Seinfeld" knockoffs — only one of those knockoffs became "Friends."

Compared to life according to Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David, "Friends" presents a warmer, perhaps even friendlier version of existing in New York City. Ross has liked Rachel since high school, but even now that they've outgrown their awkwardness and happen to live in the same city, the matter of will they or won't they remains in question throughout much of the series. Meanwhile, Chandler's sarcasm, Joey's traditional version of meat-headed buffoonery, and Phoebe's modern version of meat-headed buffoonery cause frequent dilemmas and misunderstandings.

The cast all became mega-stars, but "Friends" itself is a force more powerful than virtually any individual performer. After all, despite Jennifer Aniston's considerable success outside of "Friends," Rachel's trademark haircut is colloquially referred to as "The Rachel," not "The Jennifer Aniston." 

It's been canceled three times but never actually goes away – "Mystery Science Theater 3000" premiered on Comedy Central in 1989 and closed out the next decade on the Sci-Fi Channel in 1999. Joel Hodgson and later Mike Nelson orbit the Earth and — like a hostile DVD commentary track — riff on the worst movies ever made alongside their snarky robot companions. 

Aside from timing, plenty of stuff makes "MST3K" distinctive to the '90s, such as its irreverence, the mash-up approach to creativity, and a thrifty approach to sets and special effects that are all decade-specific signifiers. None of the movies associated with the '90s indie film explosion look like they cost a ton of money to make, either — that's part of their charm. Perhaps MST3K converting the abysmal "Manos the Hands of Fate" into a comedy classic, for just one of many examples, is simply the inverse of Quentin Tarantino lifting a shot from "8 1/2" and sewing it into "Pulp Fiction" (via Insider). 

Launching in the 1980s, "The Kids in the Hall" set a precedent for absurdist, surrealistic comedy that demonstrably influenced the subsequent thirtysomething years of funny stuff on TV. 

"The Kids in the Hall" provide plenty of takes on bland suburban ennui and the self-important business world, but the show — which ran from 1988 to 1995 — departs from reality with much more frequency than other half-hour comedies of the era. Son of Flying Pig wouldn't really fit in on "Seinfeld," for example, nor would Satan, as portrayed by Mark McKinney, or even the Sizzler Sisters — a lounge act and not two clearly insane people — played by Dave Foley and Kevin McDonald.  

While we're not comedy historians here at Looper, we think we can reasonably state that "The Kids in the Hall" functions as a bridge between the heyday of "Monty Python" and the Adult Swim glory years of the 2000s. 

Misunderstood and awkwardly sandwiched between the '90s two other "Star Trek" shows, "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine" didn't fully get the credit it deserves until after its seventh and final season aired in 1999. In its day, some "Star Trek fans rejected "Deep Space Nine" because of their personal prejudice against the show's revolutionary depictions of characters of color, as discussed by Vulture. Others didn't like "Deep Space Nine" because of its serialized approach to storytelling and morally nuanced characters — both departures from the self-contained episodes and consistently righteous characters of "Star Trek: The Original Series" and "Star Trek: The Next Generation."

These days, public attitudes about serialized storytelling and morally conflicted characters have changed quite a bit. As such, "Deep Space Nine" looks wildly ahead of its time, and plenty of folks cite it as the greatest of all "Star Trek" series. Other folks say you're crazy if you think anything tops "The Next Generation." We'd suggest which program is "better" is a matter best judged on an episode-by-episode basis, but as far as this list goes, "Deep Space Nine" has the advantage of not premiering in the 1980s. 

Television's supreme manifestation of America's post-cold war paranoia, "The X-Files," delivered the supernatural mystery mainstream audiences liked about "Twin Peaks," without the surrealistic abstractions that some found confusing. On the air from 1993 through the rest of the decade, FBI agents Fox Mulder (David Duchovny) and Dana Scully (Gillian Anderson) investigate crimes with potentially paranormal attributes. This assignment brings them into contact with UFOs, deep state conspirators, human-parasite hybrids, ghosts, Satanic cults, and a plethora of other abnormalities. 

Not every "X-Files" episode is a classic, and the 2016 relaunch damaged the franchise's legacy. Still, the influence of Mulder's bizarre obsessions and Scully's crumbling pragmatism over '90s TV cannot be understated.

An apparent flash in the pan upon its Season 2 cancellation in 1991, "Twin Peaks" evolved into a franchise that exists outside of the '90s and outside of television itself. 

The sheer hypnotic oddness of Agent Dale Cooper's (Kyle MacLachlan) mission to uncover Laura Palmer's (Sheryl Lee) murder remained a topic of wide discussion decades after it left the air. The cult of personality surrounding co-creator David Lynch certainly couldn't have hurt the show's street cred, even while Lynch and Mark Frost's supernatural smalltown mystery contains a quirkiness not often present in Lynch's films. 

The finest hour — well, 18 hours, to be exact — of "Twin Peaks" arrives in the form of 2017's third season. Twenty-five years earlier, the initial eight episodes — plus the reality-annihilating finale — made a stronger case for commercial TV's potential for high art than virtually anything presented before or after.